Turing Evolved

by David Kitson

Smashwords Edition.

Copyright 2010 David Kitson

Shared under Creative Commons Licence - Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivatives

CC BY-NC-ND

Discover other titles by David Kitson at wewritefiction.net

You can find this title at http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/34627

Chapters -

Prologue

Chapter 1 - First day on the job

Chapter 2 - Bad Trip

Chapter 3 - Back to base

Chapter 4 - Take a break

Chapter 5 - Someone for Everyone.

Chapter 6 - Angel

Chapter 7 - Turing Evolved.

Chapter 8 - Alone in Heaven

Chapter 9 - Best Laid Plans

Chapter 10 - Down Time

Chapter 11 - Choices

Chapter 12 - After the party

Chapter 13 - Still Life

Chapter 14 - Half a soul

Chapter 15 - Absence

Chapter 16 - Fallen

Chapter 17 - Descent

Chapter 18 - Where Demons Come From

Chapter 19 - The Wrath Of Angels

Chapter 20 - Ascension

Chapter 21 - Transcendence

Chapter 22 - Afterlife

Chapter 23 - Resurrection

Epilogue

Comments from the author.

* * * *

Prologue

I was certain that everyone on the base hated me. I’m surprised they tolerated me long enough to deliver me somewhere else. The pilot made his feelings clear when he ignored me during the preflight as though I wasn’t sitting in the cargo area.

Persona Non Grata. Isn’t that what they call it?

Their feelings towards me extended far beyond the razorwire and chainlink fence that separated the base from the town. My actions had brought scrutiny to the district, affecting many locals who worked there too.

As I left the hangar to walk out to the transport, I turned to take one last look at the quarters. A pickup truck was parked just outside the base. Three civilians sat in the tray while one leaned against the side with a bat sitting next to him. It didn’t amount to much of a threat but it explained why the base commander didn’t want me making my own way out of here. I guess he figured I caused enough trouble already.

I thought the airfield would have been as deserted as the hangar, but as I rounded the corner it was hard to miss the row of DEMONs. The entire mobile armor squadron, bar one, lined up in formation along the path to the transport. It might have been a show of strength, demonstrating I had no power to stop them. It might have been some form of ritualized acceptance of my leaving, recognizing the choice I made to go quietly.

Except that they mostly had their backs to me. That was where the true message lay.

Only one stood out of formation, standing at the end of the line like a steel sentinel, facing me as I approached. It watched as I made that final walk to the Fatpan transport. It was cleaner than I remember. Unit three seven two. It used to be mine. Then it too turned its back on me as I walked past, just to make sure I knew exactly how they all felt. The pilot who replaced me had taken everything. My Demon, my career, even Susan. It was as though replacing me wasn’t enough – they wanted to erase me altogether from their memory.

There were no lights turned on in the cargo area of the Fatpan. All the crew positions in the forward cabin were filled. They left the transport controller seat down so I knew where I was expected to ride.

So there I sat in the darkness of the cargo hold for three hours, struggling to breath. These transports don’t usually fly too high but the lack of oxygen told me they managed to climb much higher than they should have. The hold wasn’t pressurized and there were no oxygen masks or feed lines here.

It wasn’t enough to kill me or make me lose consciousness yet, but it was enough to make this last trip very uncomfortable. The bitter cold of altitude had no difficulty finding ways through my uniform. It was never designed to keep such low temperatures out and my skin was numb at its presence. The lack of air I could tolerate. I was trained to withstand uncomfortable positions for extended periods but the coldness just seemed to drag this final trip out and reflected the loneliness I felt.

I pulled my jacket closer around me and tried to find some comfort through meditation, but the words that ended my career only seemed to echo through its silence.

“Jonathan Carlson, it is the finding of this tribunal that you acted lawfully however your obvious contempt for the chain of command cannot be ignored.”

I tried to stifle the anger that surfaced as I thought about what they said but it kept me from focusing on what I needed to do. I still believe I wasn’t the one in the wrong. They tried me in a court martial and found nothing to convict me of, not for lack of trying. Demoted to Lieutenant and asked to leave. There’s no justice in that. After what happened I’m glad to be leaving. At least I keep telling myself that.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing. I intended to survive this and rebuild my life somewhere else. I did what I had to and I can live with that but now I was tired – more than I ever recall being. I just wanted to sleep and let the past slip away into the darkness.

I didn’t hear the footsteps or the sound of the cargo door opening though I did feel the light pressure of a hand on my shoulder. I opened my eyes to see goggles staring at me, the eyes within too dark to discern. They had an oxygen mask on. A small light was flashing in and out of my face.

“My god, you’re shivering,” a soft female voice spoke to me, distorted through the mask.

I opened my mouth to respond, uncertain of what to say but all that escaped my lips was a groan.

“You’re blue too,” she said, pulling my hood to one side a little.

The light was small but it was bright. Flooding into my vision, it was all I could see now. She pulled my hand out from beside me and pressed something hard into it. I looked down, suddenly aware that my teeth were chattering. A green cylinder with a rubber mask at one end and white writing on the surface.

She waited for me to do something with it then pushed both it and my hand up to my face. Sensors within the mask detected what little body warmth remained and flooded the mask with oxygen. Pain returned and I felt my mind clear. I must have been hypoxic. I tried to speak but my teeth were chattering too much and before I could try harder she pushed a gloved hand up to hold the mask to my lips. She looked around furtively as she held it there.

“I shouldn’t be here. We’re landing at Angel City soon and you need to leave before we take off again. The pilots have full oxygen systems for all of us onboard and they’ve disabled the hold cameras.”

Even through my cold numbed mind I understood exactly what that meant.

“Take this with you when you leave,” she shook the bottle in my hand. If I left it here, they might realize she had helped me. I guess she didn’t want to see me dead or perhaps she simply didn’t want to be a party to murder.

She kneeled before me for a moment and I felt the glove move around the side of my hood. It let the cold in but the small warmth from her fingers at my temple felt like heaven. She took my other hand and pressed a piece of plastisheet into it before pushing it into my pocket. I could feel it shaking now. Then she pulled my face to hers and looked directly into my eyes.

“As soon as we land, you leave. Understood?”

I managed to nod my head.

When I looked up again, she was gone and I was sucking greedily on the bottle, terrified of what had almost happened to me. At the realization of just how much they hated me.

Tears are cold too, even if they’re not frozen.

--

Walking away from the Angel City airport towards the city itself, I didn’t mind the cold wind as much as you might think. The activity was warming me up now and I was able to appreciate the city lights dotting the horizon. A few of them were climbing up into the stars as air traffic made its way through the region.

I hadn’t really been thinking clearly when I got off the transport. I was still suffering from altitude sickness when I walked through the back of the airport and into the terminal. My uniform, though stripped of insignia, was unmistakable and no one stopped me, not even for questioning. Then I was out through the entrance, walking away from the airport and the life I never intended to leave.

Thinking it through I questioned whether the woman who saved me existed at all or if I was just going crazy. I squeezed my fingers around the cold metal of the small oxygen cylinder that weighed down my coat pocket. I still couldn’t believe that they were willing to murder me. Thinking of it brought another hazy memory to the front of my mind.

I reached into my pocket and fished out the piece of plastisheet she handed me. I expected a harsh note. Perhaps a don’t-come-back written by someone to make sure the message got through long after they couldn’t express the sentiment anymore. I moved under a solar streetlamp that provided light at the city outskirts so I could see it in the darkness.

It was a part of a job ticket, like the ones they provide you with if you were seriously unemployed and needed to show up somewhere for an interview. There were some marker notes on the reverse side, real ink by the look of it, the sort they use to mark faulty equipment with. The words were hastily scrawled and I was forced to read through them slowly to sort the letters from the background clutter.

“Not everyone disagrees with what you did. Please forgive me that I didn’t stand with you. These are good people. They need someone like you...”

I turned the sheet over and looked again at the advertisement. I caught the words fully haptic Mindspace neuro-implants amongst the suitability criteria. The logo seemed familiar too – I twisted it in the dim light until I could see the words more clearly.

I had heard of the Mindspace Samaritans before.

“Thankyou,” I said to the torn plastisheet as though the woman who wrote these words could hear me. When you’re convinced that you don’t have any friends, it is far too easy to start believing that anyone who doesn’t stand openly with you is against you.

Continuing on towards the city, I felt my lips start to split from the cold as the tension in my cheeks increased, but I couldn’t stop smiling. I didn’t know who she was, but I owed her my life. I knew what she expected from me in return.

* * * *

Chapter 1 - First day on the job

Everyone else was moving about, working on the scaffold. Deep within the cradle, suspended at the center, lay my first patient. A lifer. That’s what Jeremy referred to him as. Someone who lived inside the virtual world of Mindspace like the rest of us live in the real world.

I dive the haptic world of Mindspace with just my implants and a cot, but with a scaffold I could stay there forever. Scaffolds like this one can keep a lifer online until their body fails from age or infection, perhaps even without one of those limitations. I glimpsed a face through the small view window but I was too far away and it was too covered for me to make out any detail out at this distance.

It wasn’t my time yet so I waited, feeling the pressure of having my first patient to retrieve. Jeremy was my new dive technician and partner. He seemed comfortable here, like he did this every day. He probably did. He darted around the small room as I watched, hooking cables into different sockets and checking displays for something I assume was important. There were paramedics here too, checking the lifer’s vital signs and stability or something like that. I should have paid more attention during the briefing.

It looked like they should be getting in each other’s way in such a small space but they didn’t. Each move seemed almost rehearsed. Each handoff clean. Amongst these veterans I was now the new guy, the rookie. It’s been a while since I felt this way.

The sound coming from my fingernails sounded loudly in my ears, reminding me my fingers were drumming nervously on the cot frame. I clenched my fist to stop them moving and wished I could get away with closing my eyes. Just watching these people work brought back memories of when I too worked with such choreographed precision. It was more recently than I wanted to admit, scars of my failure still fresh and painful even if they weren’t visible to anyone else. Was that why I felt so intimidated?

My eyes wandered to back to the scaffold at the center of everything. There was something about it that seemed out of place. It was old. Very old. The style was eerily different to the modern ones I knew from the base. Self Contained Active Feeding Facility and Online Life-support Device. I don’t think I’d seen the words printed on the side of a scaffold before. I had almost forgotten what the acronym stood for.

A small plasticard display just beneath the lettering was updating with new information. A paramedic wearing orange coveralls with fluorescent striping retrieved it then looked it over. He reached behind his ear and retrieved a thin stylus, touched the plasticard in three different locations and scribbled something on the bottom. When he turned around and looked straight at me I knew it was almost my time. Did he expect me to do something? For a moment I wondered if I should respond, then he shifted his gaze and walked over to a big guy who was here when I arrived.

“So he’s stable then?” the big guy asked him.

I had been wondering what his part in this eviction was. As he turned, I saw a glimpse through his open jacket of a sidearm sitting in the holster on his belt. The sort regular civilians don’t often carry. He was probably the bailiff or court officer.

“As stable as they ever are, although the atrophy is a little worse than we expected. Given a more time I’d wait until his muscle has rebuilt. Are you sure this has to happen today?”

The bailiff turned his head and looked me over. It felt like he was sizing me up. I guess he liked what he saw because he smiled.

“The Samaritans are here so we proceed.”

The Samaritans. The Mindspace Samaritans. My new job. It’s what I do now. The bailiff nodded to me as he spoke.

“Judge signed the order this morning, so we’re taking him off life support and bringing him out,” said the bailiff, taking the smart stylus from the para and making his own mark on the sheet.

I felt my stomach move unsteadily when he said that and swallowed hard to keep it down there. One of the paramedics, a lady, looked over at me and met my gaze. From the expression on her face, I think it might have been obvious to her that I wasn’t confident.

“First time?” she asked.

“Sorry?” I stammered, not fully understanding what she was asking. I glanced around for Jeremy. He wasn’t in sight at the moment.

“I haven’t seen you here before. Most of the Samaritans tend to have their local zones of responsibility and you’re new to this one. I’m Janet, by the way.”

She held out a hand towards me, twisting it over at the top so I had to take it from underneath. It was a power move but it didn’t make me uncomfortable. I took it as offered. She looked to be in her early twenties, like me. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized me at first, then her gaze softened. I relaxed a little and smiled back at her. She had dark skin and even darker eyes, but her smile shone brightly from between her lips.

“Jon Carlson,” I responded trying my best to make it sound professional. It came out awkward.

Why was I so nervous? I’ve faced small-arms fire before without feeling this uncomfortable. Things had changed for me since I left the military and I didn’t have a lot of confidence lately. Perhaps she sensed it.

“You’ll be fine,” she said. “And we’re here anyway so nothing really bad should happen.”

“And him?” I asked, nodding in the direction of lifer.

Her focus shifted and became harder, critical. “Yeah, I was talking about him.”

That wasn’t the best start to a first conversation given that I was likely to run into her on a regular basis.

“Sorry, I meant him, I’m just,” I said, but the words caught in my mouth before I could finish my sentence. I looked away from her. I felt like I shouldn’t be here. Just a year ago I would have laughed at people who did this kind of work. When I looked back, her hard gaze had softened again.

“It really is your first time isn’t it?”

“No, I mean, I’ve been working the virtual for some time, but it’s just,” I got stuck once again, the sentence trailing away before it left my lips.

“It’s your first time doing this particular job out here right?” she finished it for me.

I nodded, trying not to think about it too much. She was trying to help.

“Just relax OK? All you have to do is go in and let them know what’s happening. Don’t force them to leave and don’t put yourself in any danger,” she said as she checked the progress the other paramedics were making.

“Sure, I’ll be fine.”

I tried to make it sound confident. It made me feel better too. She kneeled down amongst her kit then and began looking through it.

“I think you’re going to be on in a few minutes. Like a coffee first?” she asked without looking up.

“Thanks, that would be great.”

She reached into her bag and retrieved a small white container a little larger than my fist. Her head came up and she smiled as she tossed it to me in a gentle throw. My hand snapped out from my side, plucking the canister from its mid-air trajectory as soon as it was within reach. I might have been nervous but my reactions were still perfect. She smiled at that.

I flipped it around several times in my grasp and realized I hadn’t seen one of these before. It was a cylindrical container with a plain white drinking spout on one end, but no tab. I looked at the lightly stenciled letters on the top. Coffee-B-Z. Nothing else.

“How do I activate it?” I asked.

Janet made a motion with her hand that looked like she was hitting her fist. I didn’t get it. She walked over and took it back off me without asking. Holding the canister upright with one hand, she slammed her other palm down on the drinking spout cover. It made a loud click then popped out again. As she handed it back to me, I could hear a soft hissing noise.

“No tabs,” she said. “Just pop the top and give it fifteen seconds to heat.”

Fifteen seconds? I suspended the cup from the very ends of my fingertips as if it was going to burn me, which I was pretty sure it was. I needed somewhere to put it down fast. Janet frowned at my actions and seemed to recognize my fears.

“It won’t go above seventy degrees inside and stays roomtemp on the out.”

I gingerly wrapped my hand around the cup and felt it for heat. From within I could hear the occasional sizzling or pop but realized she was right - I couldn’t feel the heat that much. It was very different to the ones we got issued with rations. I listening to the sounds it made until they stopped, then de-capped it and slowly lifted the container to my mouth so I could take a swig.

It was hot all right and it felt slightly scalding on the way down. There also wasn’t any milk in it which wasn’t what I expected. I coughed involuntarily as some of the coffee worked its way down the wrong path.

“It’s black and unsweetened,” I said as I covered my mouth with my sleeve, wiping away a little liquid that had dribbled down my chin.

“Just like me,” said Janet, giving me a forced-looking smile at the comment.

“It’s perfect, thank you,” I lied, not wanting to further insult the person who had just offered me the drink.

She must have approved, because she smiled more genuinely at that. Then she lost it again as another para held a document in front of her. Her eyes scanned over it before she looked back to me.

“So, Jon, looks like it’s time to get in and do your thing.”

I looked down at the cot near the scaffold. A frame-suspended light-mesh chair sitting in the middle of a thin web of hastily connected wires. Power cables and console links snaked around, connecting it into the world where I had to do my work. I took another mouthful of the slightly bitter beverage and nodded, walking over to the couch. It didn’t taste all that good and I didn’t want to finish it, but just drinking it made me feel better.

Anyway, she was right. Now it was time for me to do my thing. I looked around for Jeremy, unsure where he was. It was his job to monitor me for anything that might suggest I was in danger and pull me out quickly. Although I didn’t know him that well yet, I hoped he knew his job.

“Looking for me Jon?” he came up behind me. I wasn’t sure how he got there but I found myself suddenly gripping the coffee canister tighter as if it was my only link to reality.

“Is this thing safe?” I asked. It didn’t look strong enough to hold my weight. I regretted the question as soon as his expression changed.

“The pdu cot? With me driving? It doesn’t get much safer than this,” he shot back. I hoped that was all but he obviously felt I needed a brief lecture.

“Why do you think we use these things? Do you really want to hook in directly, no firewall, to what could be an unregulated private server? You want your implants fried? Then the unprotected terminal is over there by the wall.”

“No, It’s just that I’ve never gone in on a portable before,” I said slowly, not sure how to voice my concerns.

“Virgin diver then, No problem, I’ll be gentle.”

I chaffed at the implied insult before I noticed the grin spreading slowly over his face. He was working me up and evaluating my response, testing me to make sure I wasn’t going to react badly when I went in. It was sly, but it gave me confidence that he knew his work.

I moved over to where the cot was set up and put the coffee down on one of the control consoles before jumping up on it. Jeremy darted over and snatched the drink from the console, giving me a harsh look as he did so.

I could have said something by way of an apology, but after two insults I figured he deserved a little something back so just returned the smile he gave me earlier. I sat all the way back on the cot and swung my legs around until my implants were aligned with the whitespace transmitters located on the cot’s headrest.

“You have thirty minutes at the most,” the bailiff walked over and stood besides the cot, “Then we’re pulling this one because I have another eviction dockside at two.”

I nodded while I maintained eye contact, “Got it.”

Jeremy came around the head end of the cot and activated the whitespace transmitters that talked to the neuro-implants in my head. I expected the transition then and there like it was with the Demons. When it didn’t come, I twisted to see what he was doing. From behind my head, I could hear the faint sound of tapping as he keyed something in manually on the console beneath the headrest.

“You want a slow transition? First time and all?” he asked. He sounded serious now but I wasn’t sure if he was still toying with me.

“Just cut me in,” I asked, starting to feel the adrenaline building as I willed myself past the fear. This is what I came here for.

“Good luck,” Janet called and then she was gone.

I jumped at the sudden disappearance of everyone and looked around. All the people were gone from my sight, but the cot and equipment were still here. This definitely wasn’t the same as a military transition. It was as if everyone who had existed in my world just a moment ago had disappeared and only I was left, laying back on a cot that I knew shouldn’t exist here either. I sat up on the cot and looked around, realizing with the sudden onset of nausea that I wasn’t fully synchronized. Jeremy’s disembodied voice startled me.

“You jumped,” came Jeremy’s voice, “You sure you’re all right?”

“I didn’t jump,” I said back calmly.

“You damn near jumped off the table before the dampers kicked in and shut down your autonomous nervous system. Paras’ had to hold you down to stop you falling off the table.”

I winced, although my face wouldn’t move at all in the real world. If they thought I was startled by the transition before I was damped, they would consider it unprofessional.

“I’ve only got thirty minutes, Jeremy” I reminded him.

I looked around the room that had replaced the one I had come from. It appeared much the same in Mindspace as the one I had left although the scaffold here had an open cradle. In the real world the pod was still sealed with the body of the lifer inside. There was no additional equipment or people here though. The Mindspace network didn’t know about them yet, so it wasn’t able to paint them in for me.

“Am I live yet?” I called out, swinging my legs over the edge of the virtual representation of the cot.

“Almost, local sync yeah, but the data’s been out for a while.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but I took it Jeremy wanted me to wait. With only thirty minutes, that didn’t seem like a good idea to me. I jumped up from the cot and moved over to the door. Trying to grab the doorknob caused a wave of nausea and left me disoriented. When I reached out a second time it seemed like the doorknob didn’t want to turn and my fingers penetrated through its surface before the haptic feedback kicked in.

“I’m limited on time and I’m experiencing lag. This isn’t so good,” I called out.

“Yeah, we got some slight firewall problems, local node is a bit screwed up by lack of synchronization… or something. It’s an older server than I thought and we’re having some issues.”

“Just shut down the firewall then if it’s causing issues,” I called back, not sure if it was a wise thing to request.

Impatiently, I closed my eyes and grabbed for the doorknob. It felt real now, solid and it resisted my hand. Removing the feedback from my eyes minimized the loss of synchronization. Grasping it tightly, I twisted until I felt it catch then pulled lightly and the door came open.

“Whoa there, Jon, you’re going to screw up your proprioception if you keep on doing that before you’re fully synced. Just hold back for a moment.” Jeremy warned.

Keeping my eyes closed, I fully opened the door and felt the de-synchronization occur between my hand and the material fabric of Mindspace. This world was always like this when you came in obliquely as I had. Normally there would be transition effects to block the perception of differences until you synced fully with the artificial reality. It’s mandatory for most although I have an exemption because of my line of work and my former experience. All Demon pilots do.

Moments later the nausea passed. I opened my eyes and looked out into the hallway beyond where I was standing. This section of the building was still public Mindspace and the virtual reflected the real here. I looked around and confirmed that everything here looked just as I expected it to.

I walked up the hallway towards the entrance to the lifer’s private server, trying to remember what he looked like. It’s not certain he was still going to look the same but my trainer told me it helped if you appeared to recognize the person you were sent to help. Little things like showing you knew him and using his name were important things to convey when you first met him.

His name was Peter Roberts.

Peter Roberts had been contained within his own Mindspace scaffold for slightly more than twelve years. That would make him one of the first lifers to enter a scaffold permanently. He must have been pretty wealthy at one time to have been here that long. Even with the improvements in technology now, I still couldn’t have afforded anything remotely like a full cot, let alone a scaffold.

According to the briefing Jeremy provided en-route, Peter Roberts hadn’t returned to reality at all in the last twelve years. His scaffold was also one of those rare few that also contained a private server. If the brief was correct it housed a complete MIND node but that wasn’t likely. MIND nodes are prohibitively expensive and tend to be owned by corporations or governments.

The brief also said that Peter Roberts also owned the server. Server’s aren’t as expensive as MIND nodes, but it went some way to explaining how he stayed in here so long with the bandwidth costs as they are. But no one ever owns the connection and bandwidth costs a lot. His real-world money dried up. His access to the server, as impressive as it was, was being repossessed and his life support contracts had run out.

My job was to be the lifer’s, in this case Peter Roberts, friend. It was my responsibility to go in and let him know it was time to come out. That he needed to activate the disconnect sequence for his scaffold before power was cut.

My induction trainer told me that’s important with repossessions. When your consciousness has been overridden for a long time in one of these older scaffolds, nothing short of an emergency like a power cut will trigger the release back to the real world. Sometimes with these older implants, they simply failed if not disconnected willingly. That caused all kinds of secondary problems like shutting down the organs. Losing your heart during recovery would be fatal, which was why the para’s were usually called in too.

Even without all of the things that could go wrong, the other issue with sudden disconnections was that the mind sometimes didn’t resynchronize with the body. Neurological pathways aren’t nearly as stable as people used to think and the shock of being ripped from an alternate reality can affect your mind in more conventional ways.

I still wasn’t sure what I was going to say to Peter when I found him. What do you say to someone whose life is about to change so drastically? He could always choose to be uncooperative, but it wasn’t going to change anything. Disconnection times were enforced by law.

I walked down the hallway towards the end where Mindspace no longer resembled the real world as I recalled it. In the real world, the hall ended with wall with a small window. Here there was a widening into an octagonal shaped room with seven doors attached to each of the seven remaining faces. It was what they often referred to as a dimensional addition, or more technically, a gateway interface.

A small plaque on the door read “Roberts.” I reached out for the handle when the voice in my head sounded out a warning.

“If you touch that handle before you’re fully synced, I’ll report it to Gibson.”

Laurence Gibson was the branch manager and one level above Steve Littlewood, my shift manager. Jeremy sounded serious too. I think he was already pissed off with me moving out of the room before syncing. Since he was responsible for my safe return, I didn’t doubt his threat.

I couldn’t afford to aggravate the relationship. I was going to be working with him for a while – unless I did something that got me fired. I tried to think of a suitable excuse or diversion to make without apologizing.

“You mean to say that I’m still not synced Jeremy? I thought you’d have it sorted by now.” I said quietly, evenly.

“Ah, yeah, there’s a problem. Hold still for a moment.” Jeremy said, his tone changing immediately.

I smiled at his response, hoping he couldn’t see my expression yet if the sync wasn’t complete. He was right though. I shouldn’t have taken the risk with something that could screw up my sense of proprioception. If it was severe enough, the neural pathways might never resync, leaving me a vegetable.

Or worse.

Still, It served the purpose of putting him in his place. He was here to support me and what I needed to do, not the other way around. He might be a veteran, but I was the one with a full set of implants. I was the one doing the diving.

Something shifted and the world seemed to solidify around me. I reached out and touched the rough frame of the door and felt the feedback where I expected it.

“All right, You’re synced,” came the Jeremy’s voice.

“Thank you,” I said back, grasping the handle of the door.

This time everything felt real, almost like something you couldn’t simulate. As I twisted the handle, there was a click that I felt as much as I heard and the door moved in slightly. There was no key required here as there was no need. If you weren’t authorized to enter, you simply couldn’t activate the door.

The firewall took care of the negotiations here between the door and me. The direct interface Jeremy had wired up had bypassed the security and spoke directly to the server. The act of opening the door was transferring control from the public world to Peter Robert’s private server. I was inside his world now so I pushed the door and it swung the rest of the way open into a beautiful virtual apartment.

“OK, Jon, you’re in. Wait there for a moment while I scan for anything you’d be better off avoiding,” Jeremy said.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“It’s the age of this server. I needed to bypass all of the Mindspace connections and get in behind the security processors within the scaffold,” Jeremy said.

That didn’t sound like how I was told it was supposed to happen. The process was well established. Isolate the Mindspace server and maintain a shunt between the server and the cot. Otherwise you were entirely at the mercy of the server for the duration of your visit. That could turn out badly too.

I stopped in the threshold and gave Jeremy time to make sure everything was all right. It was the first virtual server I had entered since starting this new job so I used the opportunity to look around. What I saw left me wondering just what kind of place this virtual abode was.

Inside there was more space in just the atrium than in the entire building it was attached to. Above me a high glass ceiling looked onto real-time mapped images from the real world of the sky above. Virtual light rays filtered down through the panes of glass into a large swimming pool and entertainment area that sat centrally in the huge room. Slate and stone covered everything near the ground and mosaic tiles lined the upper walls. Marble mapped statues stood silently on either side of the walkway like sentinels, as though waiting eternally to protect this place from intruders.

I stepped forward without thinking and moved out of the shadows. Sunlight fell on my forearm and I felt warmth, just as I would in reality. I felt a brief lag in the connection as the cot processor struggled to present the environment to me and wondered if something was wrong. Then the feeling passed and I realized just how detailed the world inside of this server was.

With each step I could feel the minute detail in the floor beneath me as the sensation of uneven bricks came through my virtual shoes. I brushed my fingers over a tall column that stretched up towards the beams supporting the glass ceiling. Feeling them I couldn’t help but marvel at the rough hewn-stone surface that pulled on the skin of my fingers as I drew my hand across it.

“Wow,” I said under my breath as I slowly pulled my hand back and saw scratch marks on my skin.

In my time, I’ve seen some detailed simulations but this one, just this room, seemed far in advance of anything I had experienced to date. It was as close to reality as I think I’ve ever experienced. This place was incredibly realistic with simulated haptic data giving it an ambience that made me wonder if I really was in Mindspace.

Walking through the virtual home it was easy to imagine how someone might want to spend their entire life here. It wouldn’t take much more than this to escape the real world into the perfect virtual environment. I wanted to spend more time looking at the fascinating design and build of this place but it simply wasn’t possible. My time here was limited and the job that I came here for still needed my attention.

Getting back to it, I followed the walkway around past the far end of the pool and through another door. It felt almost as if I had entered another Atrium here and once again I was forced to take everything in just to get my bearings.

“This place is huge,” I said quietly to myself, although I expected Jeremy would hear it at least as well as I did. I thought I heard him murmur in agreement though.

At either side of the new room I had entered, there were two large staircases spiralling upwards. Following them with my eye, I could make out three other levels. Looking through what was a virtual mansion I wondered if I would spend all of my available time here just searching for him.

“Mister Roberts?” I called his name hoping he would hear me.

I didn’t want to scare him now that I was inside his house. He might not understand my being here at first and react badly. They told me to be wary of that. There was no response. I moved towards one of the staircases to start my search and was halfway to taking a step when I heard the sound of steel on china. It came from a doorway that was on the ground floor, just beyond the staircase.

I stepped back down and walked towards the doorway, peering through it before I entered. Beyond, there was a kitchen and I could make out the smell of something that had been recently cooked here. I took a sniff. Bacon. The air was thick with fat fumes that hit the back of my throat when I breathed in. Just beyond the stoves and the cooktop there was a long, long table outlined with pots and pans that hung above it from a rack on the roof. Then sitting at the end of the table by himself, behind a large plate of recently cooked breakfast, was an older muscular man with short cropped black hair.

He must have noticed me mid-cut and he stopped there, holding a knife in one hand and a fork in the other with just a small piece of bacon sticking out from his lip. I don’t know why he didn’t hear me calling him but from the look on his face, he was surprised to see me. At sight he stopped eating and just sat there, looking at me as I walked further into his house. I felt as though I shouldn’t be here. He probably felt the same.

“I’m really sorry to interrupt you, Mister Roberts, but I need to talk to you.” I said, not moving any closer to him at the moment.

The small piece of bacon still on his lip disappeared as his throat moved whatever had been in his mouth into his stomach. He chewed once more than swallowed again before responding, his eyes never leaving me. Then he patted his lip dry with a napkin and spoke.

“How did you get into my house?” he demanded, “This is a private server.”

I looked nervously down at the knife he held then regretted it. Showing fear isn’t something you’re supposed to do, but inside I knew I was bothered by it. Pain exists in this world. In the public Mindspace, the regulated area, there are rules regarding it and you can always be pulled out. You can’t just be pulled out of a private server however, even when you’re firewalled which right now I wasn’t. Any pain I felt in this server would be as real to me as it was in the real world.

I sometimes wondered why they made this world like this. I couldn’t die in here but I could be hurt and I really didn’t want to know what would happen if he used that knife on me. Jeremy could pull me out but it would still be agonizingly slow if the person I was here to help decided to attack me for invading his space.

“Easy, Jon, we’ve got crossover on your signs. Don’t go desyncing on me,” came Jeremy’s voice in my head.

His voice was tinged with concern and the audio was breaking up for some reason. I made a mental note to let him know that when we’re done.

“Mind if I take a seat?” I asked before I pulled a chair out from the far end of the table.

I didn’t sit down on it though. I just remained standing beside it.

“I’m with the Samaritans. I’m here to help you.”

His eyes changed with recognition of the situation and he slowly put the knife down on his plate.

“Thank you,” I said, and then realized it was another mistake to acknowledge his action. I was off to a bad start here.

“I’ve already received the notices. I had hoped that it was a mistake. I wasn’t expecting you foreclosure for another month,” He said quietly, still looking at me with an expression that said he was terrified. Perhaps he had reason to be.

I shook my head in response to his words.

“The judge signed the papers this morning. The Bailiff is waiting to pull the connection even as we speak back in the real world.”

“I don’t even remember what the real world is anymore,” he said, looking over at a bench at the side of the kitchen. I followed his line of sight and saw he was looking at a small parcel there.

“You’ve been online for nearly thirteen years,” I said, “It’s time to come out.”

Peter Roberts just nodded. His attention was still on the bench. Not yet seated, I walked over to where he was just looking. It was a small parcel, carefully wrapped and tied with a ribbon. The wrapping looked like it was paper. Real paper and not just plastisheet made to look like paper. Simulated paper wasn’t all that common in Mindspace since it was very hard to make look right. I resisted the urge to touch it, which he might have taken offence at, but even from here I could guess that there was some serious data inside just the wrapping of this parcel.

I took it to be important to him. Looking at the top, there was a small pink envelope under the two ribbon-bows with the word “Staci” written on it. The words also looked to be handwritten in simulated ink. Some of the lines were thicker than others, yet the overall appearance still seemed to have purpose. That would have been rare now, even in the real world. There was a word for it, but it didn’t come to mind.

“She’s going to be twelve years old,” Peter said.

“Who?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know.

“My Daughter,” he said.

That got my attention. The brief didn’t mention any family and even if it had, I didn’t think children were allowed to be fully immersed in Mindspace.

“Your daughter?”

“From my own virtual loins, so to speak,” Peter said slowly, dejectedly. “It’s her birthday soon. She’s at boarding school at the moment.”

“Don’t ask me,” came Jeremy’s voice in my head, “Nothing on the cheat-sheet about it.”

Jeremy must have been paying attention to both sides of the discussion.

“You’re married?” I asked, maintaining the conversation. Conversation is good. It establishes trust and opens the lifer to consider what you’re asking them to do.

“Since just before I came here,” said Peter. “Our anniversary is coming up in a few weeks also.”

I questioned within my mind as to whether there was anything real to his words. There was no way a lifer online for as long as he had been could have been both married and with such a young daughter. Then again, was I being limited in my consideration of what he could have achieved? There were, after all, medtechs that had attended to his body for more than a decade. They could certainly have collected sperm and even impregnated another. Did they both live in Mindspace?

These were questions that I really didn’t have time to consider at the moment. I needed to get down to what it was that I was here for.

“Mister Roberts, do you know why I’m here?”

He slowly put his hands in his lap and looked down.

“You’re here to kill me aren’t you?” he said slowly and evenly.

I turned to face him then, crouching a little, not so much defensive as to bring my eyes to his level. His answer threw me a little.

“No. Why would you think that?”

He slowly raised his face and I could see wetness in the edge of his eyes.

“Please, just a few more weeks so I can see my daughter’s birthday and then you can have my server in compensation. I won’t cause any trouble and I’ll do whatever you ask. Just let me have that time with my wife and daughter.”

“He doesn’t have a wife, Jon,” came a cautious warning from Jeremy in my earpiece. It was crackling now and sounded flat as he spoke. Something was definitely wrong with Jeremy’s microphone.

I think he might have known that because he felt the need to warn me.

“Jon, we have a slight problem. I’ve lost the surveillance feed and only have audio. I can’t see what’s happening so you’re on your own. You’ll have to tell me if you want me to pull you out. Just the word pull is enough. Otherwise if you either go silent for more than thirty seconds and you don’t respond to my first question, I’ll pull you anyway.”

Jeremy’s concerns weren’t something I wanted to concentrate on at the moment, but in a way it put my mind at ease. He hadn’t pulled me yet so he still must have considered the situation safe. Still, the lack of visual feedback had me worried.

I wondered how long Jeremy had lost video for before he decided to warn me. Did he know about the knife? I really couldn’t say anything about it at the moment. Besides, I’ve faced people with guns before who I knew wanted to kill me and I was a lot less nervous than I was now. I reminded myself that even if he did have a knife, I was probably still more of a threat to him than he was to me.

“Mister Roberts,” I said slowly and evenly, pacing the vowels for effect.

“Peter,” he responded equally slowly, “My name is Peter.”

“Peter then. I’m sorry but I can’t give you what you want.”

“You mean you’re choosing not to help me,” he accused.

I avoided responding to it directly.

“No, I mean I can’t do that. Here, I have a few minutes to explain it to you, so please, don’t stop eating while I tell you a little about what’s going on.”

I pulled the chair I had taken out earlier closer to him and sat down on it, facing the back towards him. The knife still bothered me, so I kept the corner of the table between us. I could use the chair back as a shield if I needed to. We weren’t supposed to hurt our patients, but if he came at me with the knife, I would still stop him with force.

“You’re payments to the medtechs who look after your real body and maintain your connection have ceased. They’ve gotten a court order to terminate your life support systems and that’s going to happen in.”

I paused, suddenly realizing I didn’t know how much time I had left in here.

“Twenty three minutes,” whispered Jeremy into my head.

“Twenty three minutes.” I relayed. “It’s not something I have any control or influence over. That’s between the bailiff and the paramedics. I know that you know the background because my notes say you’ve been communicating with them by correspondence.”

Peter Roberts nodded. I continued.

“They even conducted your court hearing in Mindspace so you could attend and I’m told you did,” I continued. “And you’ve received your eviction notice and you know you have to go back.”

Peter put his hands back on the table as his face shifted slightly with anger. His right hand was still worryingly close to the knife.

“Just one more birthday was all I needed. I begged them for just a few more weeks. Was that too much to ask?”

My eyes flicked from the weapon to his face but I kept my voice calm.

“No, I think it was pretty reasonable.” I said evenly.

He picked up the knife. I got ready to safeword my way out of there.

“Is this making you nervous?” he asked, twisting his hand around.

I didn’t respond while I tried to maintain eye contact but I could feel my eyes flicking back to the knife. It took all my willpower to overcome my instinct to respond as I had been trained to. He spun it around and pointed the handle end to me. “Perhaps you’d feel more comfortable if you had it.”

I hesitated at the sudden change in the tension between us and reconsidered my response. I had been nervous coming in here and it must have shown. I tried to look at it from his perspective for a moment and it occurred to me how he must be seeing things right this moment. I leaned back and took a deep breath, then smiled.

“You’re going to need it to finish your breakfast aren’t you? We still have time and even if it’s not real, it probably tastes pretty good.”

Peter Roberts frowned, then placed the knife very carefully on the unfinished breakfast, lifted the fork to it and then slowly and deliberately pushed it away.

“I don’t have much of an appetite at the moment,” he said as he pushed it far enough across the table that I saw he wouldn’t try to hurt me.

“Thankyou,” I said, this time acknowledging his act directly.

“So why you? Why have you been sent to bring me out? Are you with the courts?” Peter asked.

“I’m with the Mindspace Samaritans,” I repeated.

“Catchy name,” Peter said, slightly facetiously I thought. I took no offence.

“It’s what we do,” I continued. “I’m here to help you return to the real world.”

“Can’t you tell them I’m not coming? That they have to drag me out of here?” he asked.

There was a trail of water leading down his face where a falling tear left a signs of its passage across his cheek.

“They’re going to,” I almost said pull then. I paused as I thought of another word.

“Cut your support whether I finish here or not. About the only latitude I get is thirty minutes to let you know what’s happening.”

“Twenty minutes,” said Jeremy.

“At least the twenty minutes left of it,” I relayed.

“We don’t want you to go into transition shock so I have the rest of that time to help you come to terms with leaving here. You need to move to your transition point which will initiate the release of your implants and start your return to the real world.”

I waited for a moment so he could take in what I was saying before I continued.

“Then I’m going to come out with you and I’ll be there when they bring you out. If you need to, you’ll stay at our centre for a short time so you can rehabilitate and fully resynchronize with your real body. Then we’ll see if we can find you some remedial work while you get back on your feet.”

I waited for his response.

“Leaving here is death to me,” Peter said, “My entire life is here. All I get to take with me are the memories.”

“You can still come back here. You can still visit.” I suggested gently.

His face shifted with sorrow. It was clear that he thought I didn’t understand. It was even clearer that he thought I should.

“My interface is a very early design and it doesn’t track proprioception like the newer ones. I might not ever make it back and I doubt I can connect to newer terminals,” he said.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. For someone who had lived here for so long, he suddenly knew a lot about interfaces. It intrigued me.

“You seem to know something about that,” I said.

He nodded slowly in a way that suggested there was more to the answer than a yes or no would give.

“What kind of an interface do you use?” he asked.

“Subliminal haptic,” I answered slowly. “With restructured senses and visual hallucinatory stimulation.”

“So you’re really in here. You feel pain, you feel everything.” he said.

That worried me. That’s not the sort of conversation fork I expected to have. The knife was still out of his reach but Jeremy was having trouble with the audio. I started to wonder whether he might not hear the safe-word and I would have to defend myself physically.

“Yeah, something like that. I don’t really understand the technology,” I lied.

“I do,” he said, “I helped design it a long time ago when I used to work at Arilssman. Do you know why they look for people with your skills in the Mindspace Samaritans?”

That surprised me, although it did explain how he had access to such advanced technology at such an early stage in its development. I don’t know why he asked me that question. When I hesitated he continued on before I could answer.

“So why not just use the access terminal?” Peter asked, not waiting for me to answer, “Why not use an audio visual connection like the public terminals have?”

At first the questions were confusing, but then I realized how upset he was. Would I have been any more coherent in similar circumstances?

“I don’t know.”

I must have looked at him strangely, because I didn’t understand what he was asking. I think he noticed too because he smiled a little, then swallowed and looked at the parcel once more.

“Then what are you doing here?” he asked, his face slowly turning from me towards his parcel.

The question took on a profoundness I didn’t expect. What was I doing here? For a moment I thought back even further to what had driven me since I left the military. I was already over the attempted murder but the thing that still hurt the most was the memory of Susan. She had left me for my replacement as though she was just a part of the job. That kind of pain didn’t heal easily.

I caught myself before I thought any deeper and cut my answer back to what I knew was expected. I needed to wrap this up now.

“Peter, I’m here to help you as best I can. I can’t change things, but I can be there in case you need a friend during your transition. I’ll do what I can to help you through this but I can’t help you avoid or stop it. That’s all I can offer.”

He returned his gaze back to me.

“What do you need from me then?” he asked, his shoulders slumping forward. To me it was the sign that he realized he needed to leave now. I breathed out slowly, trying not to make my relief at his acceptance noticeable.

“Unlock the return codes so that we can resynchronize your mind with your body,” I asked.

He looked back at me and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t remember how to do that, even if I did design most of it at one stage,” he said.

I nodded in the direction of the front door but didn’t take my eyes off him or lose track of where the knife was.

“Just enter the cradle in the scaffold that you came in through,” I said, “That’s all you need to do according to the external recovery data. The systems handle the rest.”

He smiled at that.

“You would think I should remember something like that,” he said, then looked at the gift parcel again.

“Can I take that with me?” he asked.

I looked at the parcel also. The name Staci was still clear, even though I was sitting down. I remembered the word for that type of writing now. Calligraphy.

“Does it have a real-world analogue?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, but it’s not any less important to me,” he said.

I shook my head.

“Sorry, but when this server goes down, everything inside it goes too.”

“I built this home,” he said, lifting his hand as if to show me.

“Every item. Every screw and every panel. Every brick in this place is individual, even the mortar is calculated as individual particles down to the sand level. Do you have any idea what’s involved in that?”

I shook my head once again. He seemed disappointed by the response.

“I guess you don’t. Anyway, that small package is the only thing that’s important to me anymore.”

It wasn’t large, perhaps only the size of a small shoebox. I reached out and touched the paper gently, feeling it flex a little. It might have been something like that. Perhaps just a shoebox. Even though it was small, I knew looks could be deceiving. Something that small could even take up most of the data in this server.

“What kind of memory does it need?” I asked.

He grimaced a little. “I’m not sure. I stopped working with real-world figures a long time ago, but it’s going to be a lot.”

I picked it up. It wasn’t heavy either.

“Can you hold it for me until her Birthday?” he asked. The moisture in his eyes glistening as he did so.

I did have some capability to take things with me in the cot, but it wasn’t a good idea and I had been told not to do it. Here it was just a virtual object but in the public Mindspace it could be a virus or something worse.

“I don’t know.” I said.

“It’s important to me. Do you have a daughter?”

“Not even a wife,” I answered, still holding his parcel as I struggled with his request.

“If you had someone more important to you than everything and you knew they were going to lose you forever, wouldn’t you at least want to leave them something to remember you by?” he begged now.

Susan came to mind, but I pushed her memory away. After she left me all I felt was hurt. I didn’t have anyone else that was important to me that hadn’t either died or abandoned me. But I understood what he was asking and for a moment, as I thought of it, I almost pointed out to him that his daughter didn’t really exist. I’m glad I didn’t, because he clearly didn’t feel that way. She might even be an older person choosing to relive their life as a child. It wasn’t legal in public Mindspace, but in a private server? It was possible.

“Time Jeremy?” I called back to Jeremy.

“Thirteen minutes,” came the response.

“I’ll tell you what.” I offered, attempting to make this as simple as possible. “You take this out to Mindspace with you and I’ll get it measured out there. If it’s within limits, I can hold it for a day or two and pass it on to another user if you have their address.”

Relief moved across his face and for a moment I wondered what I was agreeing to.

“Thank you, Thank you,” he said, almost looking like he was on the verge of crying now, visibly appreciative of my offer.

We were done now. I wanted to get him back to the scaffold before we did run out of time.

“Let’s get a quick start then,” I said. “If we have to measure this, I need to make sure it’s small enough to transfer to the cot before we’re out of here.”

Peter Roberts stood slowly, took the parcel from me and then stepped back, waiting for me to lead. I pushed my chair in crookedly then paused to straighten it as it caught.

“Don’t bother,” he said, his voice somewhat melancholy, “It’s all going to vanish once we leave here and they shut it down.”

“It still isn’t a reason to disrespect this work,” I said, running my finger across the chair back, feeling the sensation beneath it. It felt like wood, really felt like wood.

I held up my hand to indicate Peter should lead the way out. He nodded and turned, leaving the kitchen the way I had come in. He walked me slowly towards the door, pointing out different items that had been important to him and with each description, I slowly did begin to feel like death come to take him away. I wondered briefly if the grim reaper, were he to exist, would have been likely to have conversations like this with those he came to collect.

“That skylight might not seem like much, but each piece of glass is individually tracked,” he said. “Each one has separate optical characteristics that affect the way it refracts virtual light.”

Each description told a story of pride, but something was missing from his voice as he spoke of his achievements.

“Isn’t that a load on the server?” I asked.

“The server is an early MIND node and is probably bigger than you think,” he said, “It was state of the art when I was given it.”

Given a MIND node? He did say that he was one of the original developers. Perhaps the cheat-sheet was correct after all.

Finally we reached the door, he walked out ahead of me, then as I walked through he closed it behind us, pulling it shut with a solid thump. There was a tangible shift in the fabric of virtual reality as we ventured through the gateway and I knew we were back in public Mindspace.

He still didn’t let go of the handle for a moment and I wondered briefly if he was considering bolting back in there. Forcing them to take him out the hard way. I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. Then he let out a quiet sigh and released the handle, shutting the door on his former life online. I knew I was trying to help him, but I still felt like an asshole evicting him. It made it difficult for me to understand why he wasn’t angry with me personally.

“OK, you’re back,” came Jeremy’s voice. “Time to bring this one out.”

“What’s up?” I asked, noticing the relief in Jeremy’s voice. It was clear once again.

Peter looked at me strangely so I twisted my head and tapped my skull. He nodded when I did so and I assumed he understood. Afterall, if he was one of the original developers of this place, he should know I could have an audio tap.

“Ahhh, well, we did have a minor issue then. We lost audio as well for a while. Janet and I were debating on whether to pull you out.”

That didn’t please me. If something had have happened, I wouldn’t have had a quick escape route. I tried not to let my concern show. More training. Never let the subject know if there were any other issues. Keep the focus on them.

“Jeremy,” I said firmly as we stood there in the CGI room. “I need you to prep some dataspace for an external transfer to storage.”

“Why’s that?” came the reply in my head. Peter’s face locked onto mine now, eyes hopeful. I believed him now that this was the only thing that mattered anymore.

“Because I have some personal effects coming with us,” I said.

“Not a chance, against the rules.” Jeremy said bluntly. It echoed loudly in my head and even though I knew better, I was worried that Peter might have overheard what he said.

“We have some leeway there.” I pointed out.

“No, we don’t,” Jeremy said. “That’s what public storage is for. The ‘space can’t hold private data at all. We can hold a link, but that’s about it.”

Links were what was exchanged when you gave a personal gift to someone else. They represented real-world property or a reference to stored virtual property. I assumed this was far more than just a link.

“I don’t have any online storage, Jeremy, but I know you have a server in the cot. Can you please accept the link and I’ll sort something out when we get back to the office?” I asked.

I remembered the earlier conversation about Gibson. I hoped I wasn’t destroying my career on the first day.

“Jon, the cot server doesn’t have much storage. Even if it did, the storage and transfer charges alone for anything significant are going to wipe out most of your paycheck. Are you sure you want to do this?”

I wasn’t sure. Not at all. I think Jeremy was thinking the same thing. I looked once more at Peter’s face. He didn’t try to persuade me further, even though I was sure he wanted to. I think that’s what made me decide then to help him.

“Jeremy, doesn’t the cot have a transfer buffer to catch any stray data? We can send it there and transfer it off at the office. We don’t pay transfer fees then because it’s all local for us.”

I heard what sounded like a low hum and wondered if Jeremy was making the sound.

“You can’t go doing this every time you pull a lifer. You’ll spend you entire salary on remote storage and the Samaritans aren’t going to cover it.” Jeremy warned.

That meant he was going to help me, at least as far as it didn’t get him in trouble also.

“What do I need to do at this end?” I asked.

There was a silence on the end of the link and I could hear him tapping keys. I wondered how close his microphone was to the keypad.

“The buffer’s waiting. Accept the link and it will initiate the transfer.” Jeremy said quietly, almost whispered.

I looked at the small box I was carrying. It didn’t seem all that large and I hoped that whatever was in it was reasonably sized.

“How do I activate the link?” I asked peter.

“Just unwrap it,” said Peter, “Just the first bow. That was for the courier and just links back to my server.”

“Would you like me to rewrap it again later?” I asked. It was, after all, intended as a gift.

Peter shook his head.

“It’s double wrappered. I anticipated someone else might need to carry it at some point, but didn’t expect it to turn out this way,” he said.

“All right, I’ll accept the link as soon as you’re clear,” I said.

Fear shot through Peter’s eyes. He clearly didn’t want to leave this here and didn’t trust me.

“I need to make sure it’s safe,” he started to protest, his eyes flicking back to the door as he did so. I put a hand on his shoulder again. It was as much to stop him from trying to return as it was intended to comfort him.

“Peter, you’re trusting me to look after this right? So you also need to trust that I’ll do what I said I would. I need to know you’re out before I do anything else or I can’t transfer it. Let me do my job first and a favor second all right?”

He looked down at the gift I was carrying in my hands then back to my face twice.

“Four minutes,” called Jeremy.

“We only have four minutes,” I relayed on, “That’s enough time to get you out of here then I can transfer your gift to a holding buffer.”

“Why not online?” Peter asked, clearly worried.

“Because I don’t have any transfer capability yet,” I said, “It’s just not something I’m able to do.”

Peter looked down the hallway now towards the door where he knew the scaffold sat waiting to take him back into his real body. That was a good sign, perhaps the best I’d seen so far.

“Please take care of this for me Jon. It’s all that’s important to me now.”

I wondered briefly what would happen when he realized he didn’t have a real daughter as he walked to the scaffold room. That was a problem for another day. I followed him into the room and put the parcel down on the window sill as I held open the cradle cover and helped him in. He looked briefly at the PDU cot next to the scaffold, then back at me.

“My access point,” I said, anticipating his question.

“They’ve changed a lot,” he said as he climbed into the scaffold, locating himself within the cradle at the centre.

It must have seemed like a lifetime ago that he went through the same action to come into this world. He moved briefly around to get comfortable then looked back out at me through the scaffold as the cradle lid closed around him.

“Are you really going to be there when I get out?” he asked.

I could see his face through the viewing window as it closed shut so I nodded my head.

“Count on it. I’ll be there until you’re recovered. It’s a promise and I tend to keep my promises.”

I felt myself say tend there as I considered some of the promises I had broken in the past. Still, I never made them lightly. Peter took my word for it as he looked on nervously from within the cradle.

“It’s been a long time since I was in the real world,” he said, his voice somewhat muffled.

“It’s just like this one,” I offered, “Nothing to get used to.”

He shook his head slowly.

“No, my wife and daughter don’t exist there,” he said as he looked away from me.

“You can still visit them from the real world you know,” I said.

There were tears once again trickling down his face as I saw the activation lights on the cradle and knew that they mirrored the operation in the real world.

“You’ll be there when I arrive?” he asked once more, this question even more muffled as the cradle went through the motions of sealing even if it was virtual.

“Shortly after. I’ll still need to transfer your gift.” I said, loudly enough for him to hear.

With that I saw him close his eyes and remembered his words on dying.

“All right, the lifer is transferring out as we speak,” came Jeremy, relief clear in his voice, “Good first day Jon.”

I walked to the only window and looked outside. The street beyond looked just as it had in the real world when I walked into this place just a few hours ago. The detail was incredible and even now caught my attention. Mindspace had come a long way in the past decade with all the extra nodes they added.

“Thanks Jeremy, I need you to let me know when I can transfer this link,” I said.

“Guy’s out,” Jeremy said, “Leave the fucking thing and just bail.”

I looked at the parcel on the window ledge and considered it, wondering if Jeremy might have thought it was an act to get Peter to leave. I could make an excuse later. Not enough memory, corrupt transfer or any one of dozens would do.

“I can’t do that, Jeremy, I gave him my word.”

“Yeah, well, don’t expect me to go funding your stupidity,” he retorted.

Down below I saw that Mindspace had updated the street with the ambulance I had arrived in. It might have done that in real time, but I didn’t look when I first got here.

“I don’t expect it at all,” I said, feeling the pressure of the day’s events slowly unwinding.

“He’s unlocked, you want to get this over with and come on out?” Jeremy called.

I moved my fingers to the ribbon on the box and grabbed it. It was soft and deformed to my touch, crushing under the light pressure of my fingertips.

The haptic feedback data within the link alone was huge, far more than you would normally expect of a link in any circumstances. Whatever it was here, it was of high quality or at least the wrapping was.

I pulled the two loose ends of the bow and watched as the code distorted and reformed the visual image so that it looked just like ribbon being pulled open.

And then the loops fed themselves through the knot.

“Hell, Jon, what the fuck is that thing?” came Jeremy’s voice almost immediately. I hadn’t actually unwrapped it so I didn’t have any idea, but Jeremy would have seen the transfer to the buffer initiate as soon as the knot opened.

“What are you seeing?” I called out into the empty world around me.

“You didn’t say it was three hundred and forty exabytes,” Jeremy spat the words into my mind, “Where the fuck are you going to put this shit?”

“What do you mean three hundred exabytes?” I asked.

“It’s your fucking link, don’t ask me,” Jeremy said, “I don’t even know if this is going to transfer across the firewall port before they shut down the scaffold.”

I looked down at the parcel as the outer ribbon fell away. It seemed to scatter and dissolve, exhibiting some unusual code as it did and leaving the parcel held together now with just one bow.

“I don’t think this is going to transfer,” came Jeremy’s warning, “It’s just too large. It’s going to stall in the buffer and error out once the scaffold comes down.”

I looked back at the scaffold behind me. Things would be happening differently in the real world right now. Peter was back there already and I was still here, waiting to keep my part of the hastily agreed bargain. I regretted my actions now. I could have lied to him, but that just wasn’t something I was willing to do. If the buffer crashed though it would need rebuilding and although that was only some tech time, it meant that it would show on the report. At some point someone was going to investigate and question my judgment.

I leaned on the window sill beside the gift that was still transferring and looked out again. What I hadn’t expected to see was someone out there looking back at me.

Not far from the parked ambulance, there was a solitary figure in the middle of the street that appeared to be looking up at the window between us. The window was a little bit dirty and it was difficult to see through but from up here it looked like a woman. She shouldn’t have been here. They closed off public access to this section of the server just for the eviction.

“I didn’t think any access points were public until we’re through,” I said to Jeremy.

“There aren’t,” came back his still-annoyed response before he rattled off another brief lecture.

“We can’t afford for anyone to go accessing the local node while a scaffold shutdown is in progress. If they tried to transfer data to or from the scaffold while it’s shutting, it could crash the local nodes. That’s also why I’m questioning your sanity and choice of options right now,” he threw at me.

“So why am I looking at someone just outside the building?” I asked.

There was a pause and a slight sound of scuffling in my head.

“They’re not showing on the system,” Jeremy said. “Maybe they were within the node before it was evacuated. You better make sure they don’t access the server additions.”

I headed out of the room and ran down the corridor before heading out through the stairwell at the far end. There was no one in the foyer so I continued out onto the street to warn whoever it was to stay away. They might have property in the server and be trying to retrieve it which wasn’t going to be allowed at the moment. Better that I warn them than they make the attempt.

I stopped in the middle of the street and I looked around but I couldn’t see anyone.

“Jon, you’re off visual,” came Jeremy’s voice.

“What’s causing that?” I asked.

“No idea, but I can trace the logs when we get back. It might just be lag from the transfer, which by the way still isn’t finished and we have less than a minute to go.”

I walked behind the ambulance and opened the rear door, nearly falling over the bumper of the car behind it.

“Someone’s parked up right behind the ambulance,” I called to Jeremy.

“Have… when we get… something… you all right?” The audio was artifacting severely now.

“Your breaking up, Jeremy,” I said, “Yeah, I’m all right.”

“….halu…. over… lock…,” came the unintelligible response.

I got up into the ambulance and checked where the computer thought everything was. It looked correct, but I could be wrong. There was a possibility of a real-world update occurring so I might have seen a ghost or simulated real-world addition. I stepped back out onto the street and looked up and down the row of cars.

“I can’t see them now. I don’t think they entered the building though or I would have run into them,” I said to Jeremy, “Might have just been a ghost.”

“… back… wrong,” The response came through.

Damn. That sounded like something went wrong with the transfer. That wouldn’t be good for either of us and I’d still have to explain it to Peter. I ran back around the ambulance so I could make it into the cot before returning and almost collided with the woman I was looking for. She walked right up to me, forcing me backwards as she stepped forward.

“You shouldn’t be here, there’s an eviction in progress and one of the servers is being shut down,” I warned, backing into the ambulance.

She looked up at me with tears in her eyes. Something about them reminded me of Peter. She was slightly shorter than in flat shoes without any real shape. Her clothes were similarly nondescript and seemed to be fashioned after something like cotton, wide and ruffled with simple patterns as the only decorations. Her hair was almost black and there were few highlights in it as it hung over her shoulder. Eyes of radiant green that almost seemed to extend into the higher dynamic range of color saturation looked back at me.

She continued forward and I tried to step backwards but had nowhere to go. Not waiting she pressed up closer to me and I saw the look of concern on her face.

“Peter, where is Peter?” she demanded.

I never got to answer her. The ceiling flew up at me before several pairs of hands grabbed me and held me down.

* * * *

Chapter 2 - Bad Trip

“Don’t fucking move, don’t even think about moving,” Jeremy screamed at me.

The room in the apartment was complete chaos as Janet and Jeremy held me down. Janet’s hand came into my view holding a large syringe which she pushed towards my arm. I had no idea what was in there and I didn’t want to know. I tried to knock it away and ended up punching Janet hard in the side, knocking her sprawling.

“Don’t fucking move, you’re not synced,” Jeremy screamed at me once more.

I felt the pressure on my shoulders ease up as I relaxed, then felt my own arm come over and punch me in the chest as I tried to lift it.

“Don’t move idiot, you’re not resynced. Your proprioception and kinaesthesia senses are all fucked up. Just relax OK,” Jeremy yelled once more, his face as close to mine as he dared come.

Something was syncing because I could feel my legs. There was a set of straps at the bottom of the portable cot that could be used to restrain me if my senses were out but they must have pulled me out before they latched them all over. Relaxing my upper body to stop myself moving, I managed to hook my feet under the main strap and throw my arms forward to lever myself up. Without a full sync, it was fairly effortless even though Jeremy was still holding me back. I knew I would pay for the effort later though. Muscles remembered exertion like that.

“Stop fucking moving,” Jeremy was running out of patience with me. He came running around the side of the cot and grabbed me to stop me falling as I flopped forward.

“Just hold my head,” I struggled to make the sounds come out of my mouth.

Can you imagine making sounds with your mouth when it doesn’t have any idea how to form shapes? It didn’t sound like me at all but Jeremy must have understood because he put his hand under my forehead, being careful not to get anywhere near my teeth. I felt him lifting my head around until I could see the scaffold.

The remaining paramedics were moving all over and around the cradle and I could hear alarms. Something was wrong.

“What happened?” I asked.

It came out garbled. Jeremy must be a master of understanding ridiculous sounding words, because he tried to answer my question.

“I had to pull you out. Something was stopping us from communicating and fucking up your sync. Sorry for the lack of warning. I tried sending you the details, but I don’t think anything was getting through.”

He shook his head although I only just saw it in my peripheral vision.

“Fuck, man, I really am sorry,” he said as he held me there.

I don’t know why I couldn’t hear him before I was pulled. The details of what I had just done were foggy and dreamlike, but I still remembered that the voice channel was breaking up just before I came back out. I was supposed to be back on the cot so that when I resynced my body would be in the same relaxed position.

“What happened to him,” I asked.

“The lifer?” Jeremy asked.

I went to nod my head and ended up shaking it so hard I thought I was going to give myself whiplash.

“Easy, easy, don’t move,” Jeremy said, putting one hand either side of my head now.

“Yes,” I tried to say.

“That’s fucked up too. Something desynced with him as well and he’s vegetative. No sync at all. It happened when they pulled the server right on the dot. The Paramedics aren’t too happy about it because now they have to stabilize him.”

I remembered Peter’s comments about his older interfaces. I should have said something when he mentioned it to me. I never considered that Jeremy would miss important cues like that with the audio problems. I twisted my head as gently as I could using my vision as feedback and felt the skin twist under Jeremy’s hands until I was looking right at Peter. The cradle in the middle was cracked wide open and I could see a pasty-white body laying there, covered in skin support jelly.

He had been clean shaven when we spoke in the virtual but now he was out here, his face was covered with hair and I could see other differences as well. He carried a lot more fat in this world as well, which made me wonder why he looked the way he did in the virtual. Adjusting your appearance without adding tags in a non-mod approved server is considered a crime now, yet it was clear he was at least this size when he first entered. The scaffolds tended to keep your physical condition stable while you were online.

Looking down at my hand to provide guidance, I moved it to the side of the cot and grabbed the handrail, then twisted my body around to swing off the cot.

“Hey, stop, now, fuck it,” Jeremy yelled at me as he ran around. I still had enough lower motor control to heave myself off the bed and onto the floor. My spinal nerves must have been resynchronising with my implants, because I found I could stand straight now and lift my head with a little control.

Jeremy came running around the side of the cot and almost knocked me over as he grabbed at my upper torso to stop me falling.

“I can walk all right,” I said.

The words came out correctly, if a little slurred still. It was good to hear my own voice again because it meant that my muscular control was starting to return once more. Jeremy let go cautiously and stepped back but I remained balanced. Even when my proprioceptive senses are messed up, I can still compensate with my eyes as long as I can see.

My arms hadn’t resynced at all and just hung limply. Every so often I felt them twitch against my side as the muscles spasmed and I reminded myself to relax. I carefully staggered to the scaffold and looked directly in at Peter. He might be vegetative with a much worse version of what I was suffering from, but he could still hear me. Ears never desynchronized. At least, I’d never heard of them desynchronizing, ever.

“Jeremy,” I shouted without looking at him, “Did the link transfer?”

“What? I don’t know, it’s not important right now,” he yelled back even though he was standing right beside me.

“Did it transfer or not?” I asked again, this time more quietly and put an edge of demand into my tone.

Jeremy walked back to the console near the cot and tapped a few keys and the screen a couple of times. I leaned over Peter a little so I was close enough for him to hear.

“Hey, Peter,” I called out as paramedics began the process of stabilizing him, “It’s Jon, I’m here as I promised. You’re suffering a lack of resynchronization of your proprioceptive senses and your implant has gone into failsafe mode until it reconnects your existing neural paths back together.”

There was no response.

Janet came over and put a hand on me, none too gently.

“You need to keep out of this now sir, you don’t have authorization to interfere with this process.” She said.

I turned my head almost a little too fast, worried she was about to sedate me. Damn it all, Peter was my first lifer to talk out of the virtual and there was no way I was going to lose him. Janet wasn’t about to let me stay there though.

“Seriously sir, the patient is safe and you should allow me to sedate you. It will aid in the resynchronization process and I still need you to step back from the scaffold.”

I wanted to yell at her as well but I had already hurt her once. I hoped she knew enough about synchronization illness to know I wasn’t in control of my arms at the time. Her arm was starting to come up purple where the bruise was forming. It must have been bad to show like that. Jeremy called out to me from the head-end of the cot.

“Yeah, it’s there,” Jeremy said, “Transfer came through maybe ten seconds before power was pulled. There’s all kinds of crap in the buffer too. It looks like we had some kind of backdump from the server when it went down which might explain what was going wrong while you were in there.”

I called out to my patient.

“Peter, did you hear that? Your parcel is safe.” I called out to the motionless figure in the cradle, then stepped back as Janet pushed me.

There was a shift in the scaffold then as it drove the cradle mechanically forward and out of the life support systems area. As it did so, I thought I saw Peter’s eyes open and they seemed to focus on me momentarily, although I knew such activity wasn’t likely.

“Mister Carlson, I’m telling you to leave now,” Janet said more forcefully as she pushed me further back towards the exit.

Jeremy was there beside me in a flash, grabbing me by the arm.

“Woah, not without me. We can send someone else to pick up the cot once we have the patient back in recovery.”

He pushed his hand under my shoulder to make sure I was supported and then continued on behind me so that if I started flailing around, he wasn’t going to get hit. He led me from the room towards the exit before I could protest. I stopped once on the way out, just to make sure the corridor ended in a wall and not with the CGI bubble, but everything was normal - this was definitely the real world. I allowed Jeremy to help me down the stairs and out to the ambulance where he pulled open the passenger side door and leaned me back against the seat.

“Fuck it all,” he said as he spat backwards towards the fence alongside which we were parked.

“That didn’t go so well did it?” I asked.

“You?” he questioned.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Fuck no, you did good. You were on your own for a while in there and I don’t think they expected we’d talk this one out. Actually, you did pretty damn well.”

“He’s a vegetable, Jeremy,” I said.

“Yeah, but that’s just a fuck up or something, I don’t know. It’s nothing you did. You took your time in there and talked him out just like a pro. Hell, I don’t know, it’s like you’ve got a knack or something. People just listen to what you say.”

I gave Jeremy a skeptical look.

“Jeremy, this is the first time we’ve worked together.”

He nodded at that.

“Look, they said that in your file after your induction evaluation and for what it’s worth, I agree. You did pretty well, but I’m still fucking pissed with you. What the fuck was that download-this-link shit?”

I thought about the world inside. I had started to empathize with Peter and suddenly I understood what he was going through, what it must have been like for him. The gift? That was really just like a dying man’s last wish, at least to him.

“It was important, to his wife and daughter,” I said.

“He doesn’t have a fucking wife and daughter. Didn’t you hear what I said?” Jeremy half-yelled back at me.

Yeah, I had heard him. And I read the brief.

“He believed he did,” I said, “How different from real is that in Mindspace?”

Jeremy pushed his palms up against his forehead.

“We’re in for all kinds of shit when we get back. This one went badly and it’s not our fault but we’re probably going to get reviewed. You’re going to have to store that linked data somewhere or I have to dump it. I don’t want that around if they take samples of logged data. We could get into all kinds of problems if he veges out permanently and it turns out we have some property of his.”

I went to put my own hands on my face and ended up punching myself in the lip. My reaction to it slammed my head back into the doorframe of the ambulance with considerable force. It hurt and I couldn’t help moaning as I tried not to do it again.

“Hah, serves you fucking right, you idiot,” Jeremy said to me. “You should have just ridden that out in the cot while your body resynced.”

“It will come back eventually,” I said, looking at my arms, still avoiding the instinct to reach up and feel the lip. I was sure I could taste blood in my mouth.

“Yeah, why did you freak out anyway?” Jeremy asked.

I shook my head gently. “Not under control.”

“Don’t they teach you to wait it out in the training?” he asked.

He was referring to my original military training. Of course they did. But it doesn’t always work like that.

“Yeah, but they don’t tell you that you’re going to be all freaky when someone pulls you straight out of one world into another with your sync all messed up. They say that you just relax on the cot to deal with that but I had no warning. Last I remember I was just on the other side of this ambulance talking to that girl.”

Jeremy furrowed his eyebrows at that mention and walked around the other side of the ambulance, making a full circuit.

“No one there,” he said.

“You expected there to be?” I asked.

“Yeah, well, you could be hallucinating, which can happen, but then you did see the ambulance so I figured it might just be a live feed. Just someone walking by and you happened to see their ghost.”

“I walked right around the ambulance and then talked to them,” I said.

“Not possible. The server was locked down,” Jeremy said, shaking his head.

“Did you trip over the bumper at the back too, the idiot who parked really close to the door?” I asked.

Jeremy moved his head to one side and I knew he was looking at the sports car parked behind us.

“Damn good hallucination then, but yeah, it’s a bit close. We can have them fined later since I’m gonna have to move this forward so we can load your friend when he gets down here.”

I looked carefully up and down the street. “What car did the paras come in?”

“There’s a hospital around the corner. The bailiff contracted them out and they just walked around here, why?” Jeremy asked.

“Because I owe Janet an apology,” I said, “I think I hurt her.”

“Her own fault,” said Jeremy. “She should have made sure you were locked down before she tried to sedate you or done it outside of your field of vision. Either way, not smart.”

“I still feel bad.”

“Yeah, I think she’s going to bruise up something terrible as well,” Jeremy agreed.

I looked back at the window I knew was attached to the room we had been in. There was no parcel in the window but even inside Mindspace, the parcel would have dissolved by now.

“So how’s Peter going to be?” I asked.

Jeremy put his hands up in the air in front of him in a sign of confusion.

“I don’t know, man, I just don’t know. I’m not up there with what’s going on.” he said defensively.

“You do this all the time,” I countered, “What’s going to happen?”

“Oh, you mean like where to from here? Well, they stabilize him, make sure his interoceptive senses aren’t all screwed up too, put him into a coma and we take him back and try to rehabilitate him. He won’t be able to control his body until he resyncs, but right now you know more about that than I do. Oxygen therapy helps that a lot,” he said.

My arm sensation was starting to return although it felt like I had just slept on both of them. Despite that I could still feel the light pressure of a breeze and the warmth of the sunlight on them. That was progress.

“Mine will come back today,” I said.

“Yeah, within an hour I’d guess, but your friend in there, he’s not going to be coming back for a while. Something’s really fucked up there. I don’t know what.”

“Is he going to live?” I asked.

“Live? Yeah, but like, think of it. He’s been in another world for that long and now he’s in this one and if his senses are all screwed up like that. He’s going to be laid up for a while until he recovers. He’ll need some serious therapy.”

“It’s like dying, was what he told me,” I said.

“Yeah, I guess that kind of makes sense.” Jeremy agreed.

The doors to the apartment complex slammed open and a stretcher rolled out, pushed by several paramedics.

“I need to move this truck,” said Jeremy jumping up and running around to the driver’s side door.

I pushed myself forward and stepped away so I wouldn’t be run over when he moved forward, then walked around to the back to wait.

Janet came up front of the stretcher and waited near the back of the ambulance to load the patient. In training they said that normally the patients just rode in with us, but this time the patient needed to be left on the stretcher.

She had her side turned to me as she waited for the others to begin loading the stretcher, but it was pretty obvious that she was ignoring me.

“Hey, uh, Janet?” I asked slowly. “I’m really sorry about the, uh, bruise.”

Her head snapped around as if she was about to follow it with a punch, then her expression softened.

“Yeah, not your fault, kay? I don’t blame you,” she mumbled.

She was looking away from me when she spoke again.

“You hit me pretty hard,” she said.

The ambulance moved forward and there was a loud bang as the passenger side door hit a street sign. “Damn it Jon, why didn’t you close the door,” Jeremy screamed from the cab, then continued forward as the door lost even more paint to the sign.

Janet smiled at that.

“I don’t think I could lend him a hand either at the moment.” I said.

That got me a laugh as well. Being helpless can be a winner with the ladies.

“Yeah, I guess so. I should have been more careful.” She said.

Now it was time for me to try out my well rehearsed chivalry. They say it’s dead, but the attitude works.

“No, you were trying to help me. I really should have been sedated back there and I know it. I’d probably be all right by now and not have to deal with the muscular problems later if I’d just taken a little nap.”

She looked up at me, her expression searching for something in my words.

“And I, well, I just wanted to say thanks.”

Janet smiled at that, the same smile that had made me feel better earlier when I was nervous.

“Yeah, all right, you’re forgiven. I take it your partner pulled you out unexpectedly?”

“What was your clue?” I asked.

“The part when Jeremy said fuck it all, I can’t even see him now. Janet, dope him up because he’s coming out unexpectedly,” Janet made a funny sounding deep voice as she said it which I took to be an impersonation of Jeremy.

“But you still don’t know how close you came to receiving your own bruises,” she warned and her face hardened.

Still, I was on a roll now and knew it.

“Yeah, thanks for that, or rather, not doing that. Why didn’t you try to jab me again?” I asked.

“I Couldn’t find the syringe quickly enough,” Janet said, nodding.

“Can I make it up to you?” I asked.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Like how?”

I thought about it. I probably looked kind of stupid standing here, chatting up a para while both my arms hung from my shoulders like dead flesh, except for the occasional spasmodic movement.

“I don’t know, send a pizza, take you out for lunch, something to apologize?” I suggested.

“I don’t know, this is a pretty big bruise,” she said, looking at the side of her arm. “I think maybe a full dinner apology is in order.”

That wasn’t what I expected, but it sounded better than what I had in mind.

“Sure, but ah, not tonight, Okay? I need to, ah, recover,” I said. I felt like an idiot now.

Two other para’s looked at me, gave each other a look and then wheeled the cart around behind the ambulance and started loading it into the rear door.

“Here’s my card. Call me,” said Janet and she held it out to me.

I looked at it then back at her. Didn’t she realize I couldn’t take it? The edge of her smile slowly lifted and I realized she was getting back at me as best she could right then. After letting it sink in, she flipped the card vertically and dropped it into my shirt pocket.

“Don’t plan on pizza. I expect a decent apology,” she gently warned.

“I’m kind of new to town,” I said.

“Then I’ll pick the restaurant and you can pay,” she said, smiling as the back of the ambulance started to close, “I think your partner is waiting for you.”

I turned to look at the half-closed door of the ambulance now and saw what she was referring to. I could just make out Jeremy with an annoyed look on his face.

“Yeah all right, well I’ll call you once I’m recovered.” I offered.

“Do that,” Janet asked.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

It’s difficult to walk off nonchalantly when your arms are effectively spastic and paralyzed. It’s even more difficult to get into the cab and it’s impossible to close the door. I was just angling to attempt to look even more stupid and pull it in with my foot when one of the paras came around and closed it for me.

“Thanks,” I called out of the window, not game to stick my head too far out without my arms working.

“Don’t wait too long,” I heard Janet’s voice as Jeremy pushed the accelerator and the ambulance started forward causing me to bump my head on the door frame.

“Did you just pick that lady up?” Jeremy asked as I pulled my head back into the cab. He didn’t sound impressed.

“Janet?” I asked.

“No, the ghost you saw in your fucking dreams,” Jeremy sarcastically responded, “Of course Janet.”

“Ahh, yeah, I think she picked me up actually,” I said, “I owe her a dinner it seems.”

“Dinner? You’re shitting me. You’re been here what, two weeks? All that in training and now you come out here first day on the job and you pick up the para chick just like that?”

“It kind of seems that way.” I said.

I almost fell over into Jeremy’s lap as he turned a little harder than expected into the next street.

“Damn, you got balls is all I can say. Let’s see how long you last.” Jeremy whistled as he made his way onto an onramp.

* * * *

Chapter 3 - Back to base

Jeremy drove slowly back in the direction of the recovery wards while my body was still going through the awkward process of resynchronization. My small satchel of personal items fell sideways as we turned and bumped into my leg, threatening to spill. There wasn’t much I could do about it yet.

Have you ever been asleep and suddenly felt as if you were falling before waking with a start? Do you remember that sudden jolt at the end? That’s resynchronization, only it’s worse with implants. That’s what happens when your mind suddenly has to work out where all of your arms and legs are once again. Except when you’re coming out of a session like I’d just been in and you don’t wait for resync to occur naturally, it’s not that painless. In fact it actually hurts quite a bit and there’s one of those jolts for every muscle group you have.

Years ago when I did implant training, they claimed that muscles come back in groups. Like most veteran Demon pilots, I don’t agree with that because it’s difficult to believe that I have that many muscles floating around inside just my arms. Each one resynchronized individually as my implants struggled to reconnect my senses. Each one delivered its uncomfortable message that it had just rejoined the rest of me. My stomach muscles were also burning from the effort I’d expended when I sat up on the cot. When you can’t feel your own muscles, it’s amazing how strong you can be.

“You sure you don’t want to lie down in the back?” Jeremy asked.

There was a spare fold-down cot in the back of the ambulance for times like this. I lifted my arms carefully and tried to control my fingers. They had almost come back now.

“Nah, I’m almost here again,” I said.

In truth it was difficult to tell. I wasn’t just paralysis that was the problem. It was when the paralysis wasn’t there and I needed to move my fingers without looking at them.

“Does it hurt?” Jeremy asked.

I looked at him, trying to work out for a moment if he was making fun of my situation or if he was genuinely concerned. I decided it was a little of each.

“Yes, it hurts,” I snapped back, aggravated by the pain, “But I just don’t like to be sedated.”

“Why the fuck not,” Jeremy asked, then added, “I mean, if it’s not personal or anything.”

I felt my shoulders shrug.

“I guess I’m just a control freak,” I said.

“Not too uncommon, that,” he said, “A lot of divers I’ve worked with are like that. It seems to go with the job”

Jeremy’s eyes glanced upwards, followed by his neck craning upwards. The next moment, he was wrapped over the steering wheel, looking upwards. I felt my muscles all tense, not knowing what had happened. I had no restraints and would go through the windscreen if he stopped suddenly.

“Shit, look at that,” he said, his breath misting the window.

I would have been happier if he was watching the road at the moment, but looking ahead I saw that the traffic was sparse. I looked up as far as the roof of the cab but didn’t see anything.

“What?” I asked, not confident to lean my body.

“Up there,” Jeremy said, as if the direction of his gaze was all I needed.

I continued looking up at the roof of the cab as if I could see through. He stared at me in a way that told me he wasn’t sure about my response.

“Up there, man, Angel,” he pointed with his finger now.

A small dot appeared high up in the air followed by a contrail of some kind, moving just past the edge of the cab roof in the distance as it came into view.

“Near that airplane?” I asked.

“That isn’t an airplane, it’s an Angel.” He said.

I squinted my eyes as though to look a little harder but all I could make out was a dot moving high above the city.

“I can’t see it,” I said.

“Right there,” Jeremy jabbed his finger in space as he became frustrated with me.

“Yeah, I can see what you’re looking at, but I can’t see the Angel,” I responded. The small aircraft-like dot moved past the artificial skyline of buildings, taking it out of view.

“That’s an angel, man, you don’t see too many of them around this town,” he said. “You don’t see them that often anywhere unless you’re in serious shit.”

“This is Angel City. Isn’t this where they come from?”

“Yeah, once, but they only come back now and then for maintenance or some shit. It’s still cool to see one.”

He was grinning now. Clearly it seemed that seeing an Angel meant something to him.

“Do you see them often?” I asked.

Jeremy looked around at me. “No,” he said then added. “You know what they are right?”

Of course I knew what they were. Even if I hadn’t seen the news at all in the past decade I was briefed on them in case we encountered one while tin-skinning.

“They just help people don’t they? Not all that different from what you and I do.”

Jeremy turned and smiled, showing all of his teeth. He still wasn’t looking at the road.

“Yeah, but we don’t have forty five megawatt bodies to do it in, Jon. Do you know how much energy our bodies can put out?”

I shrugged, more voluntary this time than automatic.

“I don’t know, a kilowatt maybe?”

Jeremy snorted and his looking at me as if I was stupid rather than getting on with the job of driving was starting to bother me. For a moment I wished my driver was an AI too. AIs used to drive ambulances, but after a few problems the compliance costs went up due to lawsuits. It took too much input-attention for a low-level AI to drive an ambulance. The sort of AIs that can handle it are far too expensive for outfits like ours to afford. People were still cheap though and not as easy to sue. Looking at the expression on Jeremy’s face, I got the feeling that my driver was about to tell me everything he knew on the subject of Angels.

“Like maybe point two kilowatts,” he launched into a spiel, “Even a horse only has point seven five kilowatts and they could rip us apart. At forty five megawatts, what do you reckon an Angel could do?”

“Rip us apart more quickly?” I guessed.

Jeremy didn’t appreciate the mental image of an Angel ripping people apart from the sound his snort made.

“Yeah, well that’s why they don’t make AIs into soldiers anymore. They would just go ripping everyone to save on ammunition,” Jeremy said.

“There are no AI soldiers, Jeremy, they were banned by the Hobart convention over thirty years ago,” I pointed out.

There was nothing like Angels or Demons thirty years ago. Not before fusion technology improved to the point that it was portable, lightweight and not going to kill lightly shielded people nearby.

But Jeremy still looked at me as though I was saying something stupid. “During the wars, man.”

I frowned at him. “Jeremy, there haven’t been any wars for over a century.”

“Yeah, that’s because the last big one was so fucking awesome that they decided not to have anymore,” he said, watching where he was going again.

“Who decided?” I asked. My own personal experience suggested that warfare had just changed, not disappeared.

“I dunno, them,” he said, “Whoever decides that shit.”

Jeremy’s choice of words was starting to grate on me.

“You like those words don’t you.” I said.

“What fucking words?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Fucking?” he asked again.

“Yeah, words like that.”

“What, you don’t like fucking expletives?” he asked, looking at me with what I was sure was an accusation.

“Not really, no.”

“Why the fuck not?” he asked.

He sounded agitated by the conversation, so I tried to remain calm. I was still trying to get to know my partner. I didn’t want this to turn into an argument.

“Because it’s hard enough to stay focused when using implants and using words like that tend to make you forget what your objective was in the first place.”

He pushed his lips together as he swerved slightly around a car that was going a lot slower than we were.

“Yeah, OK, I’ll cut back then,” was all he said.

The tone of his voice told me there would be a price associated with that sudden offer and that it wasn’t negotiable. I was tempted to ask him what it was when he pulled over to the side of the road.

“Are your arms all right now?” he asked.

I lifted my hand in front of my face and wiggled the fingers slightly to see how much movement they had.

“Yeah, I’m fine now.” I answered, satisfying myself that I was. The fingertips still hurt, but they were pretty much resynced.

Jeremy brought the ambulance to a stop, then reached over and popped the remote release on the console and the passenger side door opened up.

“I’ll see you back at the wards then,” he said.

“What?” I asked. I hadn’t expected that and wondered if he was upset with something I’d said.

Jeremy pointed over the road. “See that street over there? That’s Anderson. That’s the street we’re on. It’s only five minutes walk to the office and you need to get out here.”

I looked back at him, waiting for him to explain.

“You’re going to need some storage if you’re going to store your damn link contents. I’ll transfer it off when we get back. That’s exactly what you said, Jon.”

I’d forgotten about that.

“And besides, I really can’t store… it for you,” he paused as he said it, leading me to think that he was consciously attempting to avoid swearing in front of me again.

“Can you tell me where I should get some storage?”

“Memshop,” he said, pointing out through my open door at a small group of commercial buildings that came up to the sidewalk. “Pick yourself up something portable and come and see me back at the office.”

I looked out through the open door. There was a small vending machine shop sitting between a cyberclean and a local delicatessen. I guess Jeremy really did want to get that data off his system as soon as he could. I leaned over, got out and pushed the door shut behind me.

“Thanks,” I said, not sure if he was dumping me here or delivering me.

His expression changed when I said that. It’s amazing what remembering to be polite and grateful can do in a conversation. He looked over towards where he wanted to go, then back to me as he leaned in my direction.

“Get half an zettabyte if you can. You don’t want to be going short if you do this more occasionally than you’re supposed to.”

I nodded, then stepped back from the kerb.

“See you back at the office then,” I called out then turned to walk into the shop.

“Oh, and Jon?” he called out.

I turned to look at him again.

“I meant what I said. That was good work in there. Welcome to the Mindspace Samaritans.”

Jeremy was smiling as he pulled out onto the main road, then he cut across several lanes and still had to swerve to make the corner on the far side. I watched him drive away until he was out of sight then walked over to the shop he had pointed out. The vending machine shop didn’t have a lot of information about what it sold on the outside, just “Popslots” and “Vending Machines” printed on the darkened aluglass window. I entered to a sudden blast of chilled air and noticed I wasn’t the only one here. A security guard at the far side of the room looked up at me briefly then went back to whatever he was doing before I came in.

There were around thirty small vending machines lining the walls here, each with a small hypervid display on the front. There were no panels I could see through to know what was inside, just the machines and the security guard. I walked past several machines until I saw one that displayed the memshop logo on its screen.

I reached up and tapped the logo briefly with my finger. Activating it caused the screen to blank before the logos were replaced by a three-dimensional sphere. A disembodied hand appeared that started to slice away sections of the sphere as it slowly recreated a solid-appearing logo for memshop. Text floated gently at the bottom of the screen telling me that I was waiting, as if I didn’t know that, before a face appeared. A lady with a small boom headset attached to one ear looked out at me.

“Welcome to memshop, can I help you?” she asked.

I wondered for a moment if she was an AI or human and decided she was probably human. Human was cheaper.

“Ahh, I need some storage,” I said.

“What do you need the storage for?” she asked. She wore an expression that told me she thought I was a customer who didn’t know what he wanted.

“Something portable,” I started.

“Portable transfer drive. What capacity and interface?” she asked.

“Something in the five hundred exabyte range,” I said.

She probably went through a script like this all day.

“Interface?” she questioned.

“Umm, I don’t know.”

She began to roll her eyes and then caught herself before she got too far into it.

“What’s it for?” she asked, her voice deadpan now.

“A Mindspace consciousness override terminal,” I said, wondering if she knew what that was.

“Which cot, an Oh-eight, Oh-nine or Fourteen Twenty?” she asked.

Maybe she did know. Unfortunately, I didn’t.

“Ahh, well, that’s it you see, I’m not sure.”

“Well, they all have exawire interfaces. Do you want to use that?” she asked.

“What would that mean?” I asked back.

“It’s not as fast as native and you’re going to lose something to the queue and translation, but it will work all right even if it’s a little slow. Might take a few hours depending on the buffer size.”

“Do you have anything faster?” I asked.

“Not unless you have the exact model,” she said.

I reached for my phone to call Jeremy and ask, then realized it was in my bag that I left in the ambulance when I got out.

“Would the Exawire be fast enough still?” I asked.

This time she wasn’t quick enough to stop her eyes from rolling and I realized that I had just asked a how long is a piece of string question.

“What do you want to do? I don’t recommend mirroring, because it’s not going to be fast enough in most cases.” She said, quickly regaining her composure and remembering her customer service.

“I just want to transfer a large file,” I said, “To move from one place to another.”

“For that? Sure,” she said, “Is this what you want?”

Details of the drive and a small image of it with specifications faded-in like an overlay. Most of it meant nothing to me. I nodded anyway and stood there for about five or six seconds waiting for her before I realized she was waiting for me to do something. Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out my wallet and removed the ID card I had been given when I started the new job. It would hold my pay transactions as well and since I had been with the company a few weeks while I did induction, should have some value attached.

I held it up to the square marked for that purpose on the vending machine and watched the service girl flick her eyes over to another screen, then heard a clicking sound as she smiled. There was some mechanical whirring and something moved around inside. Then a hatch popped open near the base of the machine and I could see a small package inside it.

“Thank you for your purchase. Is there anything else I can help you with?” she asked.

I shook my head and the screen went black before I remembered to ask if I needed adapter cables. I popped the storage into my pocket and left.

Finding the office wasn’t difficult. The building looked different from this angle, the wards separate from the administration, different dissimilar buildings joined by suspended walkways that gave away the nature of the place. Though we didn’t have to do anything like surgery here, so it was more like a halfway house than a hospital. A place to stay while you got your life back together after being in Mindspace too long.

The ambulance was gone when I made my way through to the depot but I knew where Jeremy would be. The technical workshop was also located at the rear of the facility and as I approached I could hear Jeremy’s voice. He didn’t sound happy, so I hung back and listened, trying to evaluate the situation before I entered.

“There’s no reason the network should have failed. Are you sure you didn’t make a mistake in wiring it up?”

The voice wasn’t Jeremy’s. I didn’t recognize it.

“Of course I fucking did but I still lost both the video and the audio during the transitions. Something isn’t syncing correctly and the new guy came out half-synced as well,” I heard Jeremy snap back.

“So why didn’t you get the para to jab him?”

“I did,” Jeremy sounded annoyed, “He damn near punched Janet clear across the room. You know what it’s like when your unsynced. He’s lucky he wasn’t injured either.”

I heard someone suck in hard through their nose before they spoke.

“He’s bloody lucky to be alive if he punched Janet. Damn it, Jeremy, you didn’t mention that earlier, was she hurt? Are we going to have any legal issues?”

Jeremy paused.

“I don’t think so,” he said at length.

“Did you ask her?”

“Didn’t have to. New guy has a date with her,” he said.

“He hit her and now he’s taking her out?”

“Yeah, pretty slick eh boss?” Jeremy said.

“Look, just fill in the report and send it to me. If HR doesn’t need to hear about this, then we can save ourselves a whole lot of trouble.”

There were some footsteps and the sound of a door slamming rather more loudly than it should. I pushed on the door in front of me and carefully opened it.

“Oh, hey, did you get the storage?” Jeremy asked, twisting suddenly when he heard the noise. He recognized me instantly even through the door crack.

“Ah, yeah,” I said, pulling it out of my pocket, not sure whether I should say anything about the conversation. If he didn’t I wouldn’t.

Jeremy snatched it from me and ripped off the high density foam packaging with a well practiced action and examined it.

“Yeah, this will do. Did you get the interface?” he asked.

“It’s Exawire,” I pointed out.

Jeremy frowned as he examined it, “That’s not going to be fast enough.”

He walked to a bench at the side of the room and flipped open a plasticard box and began rummaging through it with his free hand.

“These can be directly interfaced as well. I’ll see if we have a spare,” he spoke without looking at me.

He checked another plasticard box and then on the third pulled out a small adaptor that seemed to snap to the back of the storage drive, embellishing it with a tada sound. He hooked it into his equipment and began typing something on a small keyboard.

“We need to get this off before anyone goes looking into what happened. If they come back and ask for logs, they’re going to notice this transfer and I don’t want that to happen.”

“Why?” I asked, then felt stupid simply because of the look Jeremy gave me.

“Because we’re really not supposed to do stuff like this,” he said, driving the point I already knew home.

“Is it specifically against the rules?” I asked, suddenly fearful for my job.

“Not really,” he said, “But it’s frowned upon. If anything comes of the other problems and they can’t get us, they might choose to pick this up and hit us with it.”

That made sense. Often people really only wanted to justify their rage when they were angry at you for something. A fractal sphere appeared next to the cursor on the screen before him and then Jeremy nodded. “This is going to take a few minutes once the cot gets here. You want to go check in with your shift leader?”

I nodded my thanks and walked out of the workshop.

* * * *

Chapter 4 - Take a break

The staging room was mostly clear when I got there, except for Steven Littlewood. He had been one of the trainers who had completed my two week induction training and it was helpful to know him already when I started doing fieldwork. He also had implants from a former drilling job, but only went diving when they were short on staff. We got on well.

“Jon, how did it go?” he said, looking up and recognizing me from behind a stack of paperwork on his desk.

He pushed a piece of slightly wrinkled plastisheet down and put a new sheet on top, holding it firmly. He pushed for a little longer and the images and detail from the piece on the bottom transferred through, appearing on the paper beneath his hands. He could have just used a new sheet, but I was starting to notice they were a little tight around here.

“Ahh, not so well,” I said, pulling a seat out and sitting down on it at an angle.

The response got his attention.

“Oh, lose one?” he asked, stopping what he was doing as he heard what I said.

“Lose?” I asked.

“He didn’t come out?” Steven clarified.

“Yeah, he came out, but he’s in a vegetative state,” I said.

“Oh, that kind of not-so-well,” Steven said, nodding, “So you got him to leave then?”

“He agreed to come along,” I said.

Steven smiled at that. He did that a lot during the training when one of us finally understood something he had been trying to get across.

“Then that’s great and the failure to reintegrate probably wasn’t your fault. I suppose I should congratulate you on your first success,” he said pulling the two sheets apart.

He pulled a stylus from a small scattered pile of different styluses and began making notes on the new copy, his attention back to his sheet.

“Does that happen a lot?” I asked.

Steve stopped working again and looked up. He put the stylus down now and pushed the sheet away.

“People coming out messed up? It happens a lot more than we like to admit. If you spend too much time away from the real world it screws up your body as well. It’s like being in a coma, except your body has full motion in Mindspace and when you come out, your mind forgets how it connected to your limbs in the first place.

“Given enough time, our body changes. If we’re awake, our minds change with it but otherwise, we have to learn how to use it again,” Steve said.

I already knew the issues and dangers of implants and synchronization, but didn’t know how often things went awry like this. It was rare to get forcibly ejected in the military and rarer still to spend more than a few days plugged in.

“Does it happen often?” I asked.

Steven shook his head.

“No, some people come out and they’re fine. Most recover with therapy and if they come out voluntarily it doesn’t screw with their minds as much because they were expecting it,” Steve explained.

“So what next?” I asked.

Steve glanced up at a calendar on the wall.

“Nothing so just wind down and relax. Take the rest of the day off. Some days you have to work long hours without extra pay so if you get a quiet day, use it,” he said smiling.

Then he returned his attention to the pile of papers still sitting in the tray on one side of the desk.

“I don’t mean to be rude but you caught me at a bad time. I need to prepare some reports in a hurry so I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

I said a quiet thanks which wasn’t acknowledged then wandered back to the workshop via the cafeteria and picked up a couple of coffees. When I found Jeremy, the cot was there and he was checking it with a whitespace-scope.

“Something not working?” I asked.

Jeremy jumped when I interrupted him then relaxed when he saw it was me.

“I want to know what went wrong with this cot before we go out again. If it happens again, I’ll be explaining it to an investigator and I really don’t want that.”

I walked over to the console he had set up earlier. The parcel I accepted was starting to transfer although it had only just begun. That was when I noticed the cable carrying a large bundle of fibers going from the console to the cot around the back end of the bench. I followed it around to where Jeremy was checking things and saw then that his whitespace-scope wasn’t a scope at all. It was plugged in beside the fiber bundle.

“What’s that?” I asked as I moved around to look.

There was a small hypervid playing on the screen, except the content seemed very familiar. I could see Peter’s front door at the moment. It must be some kind of playback device. Jeremy twisted it around so I could see it better. I handed him a coffee.

“Recognize anything?” he asked.

“The door to Peter Roberts’ private server ,” I said, feeling a little strange as if someone was hiding inside my head and playing back my thoughts.

Pushing the queasiness away, I reminded myself the experience was just an illusion. Of course Jeremy was always looking over my shoulder while I was in Mindspace. That was his job.

“Yeah, then you made it into the foyer.” Jeremy said.

That was when the image started to artifact and break up.

“I didn’t see any of that,” I said.

“You didn’t see it break up?” Jeremy asked, surprised.

“No, it was all clear to me,” I said.

Jeremy pursed his lips as the video continued to play. He hit a button and my vitals came up on a smaller screen beside the main one. It ranged from simple things such as my heart rate and alpha waves through to the level of serotonin and adrenalin in my blood stream. He hit another button and several chemical traces told of different proteins in my blood stream. The hyvid itself though gave me a strange feeling of deja-vu but didn’t seem like a memory.

“Is that what I saw?” I asked as the camera slewed to focus on something I couldn’t recall looking at.

“It’s from your perspective, but I can pan around.” Jeremy said. “Like I’m the eyes in the back of your head.”

He paused it and swung a small control on the panel out from the side of the tool he was using and the screen shifted with it. Then the picture froze on a small object near the edge of the pool that seemed to be artifacting badly. It looked like a simple sculpture but whenever Jeremy’s view panned over it, it dissolved into a series of misshapen primitives.

The screen started to break up badly, regardless of where Jeremy was looking.

“You know, this system translates the data of Mindspace and feeds it into one of the most powerful graphics processors available and I think something inside of his server was too detailed for us to even look at,” Jeremy said.

“What would cause that?” I asked.

Jeremy looked over at the storage block that was transferring into the storage drive I had just purchased.

“Like maybe four hundred exabytes of graphics data, without a wrapper,” he said quietly.

“You think that’s what we brought back?” I asked.

Jeremy shrugged and continued watching. The screen was dissolving into so many fractals now it appeared like the signal noise in the ancient movies when they couldn’t quite recover them completely. Now the chemicals in my body, at least according to the graphs, started to surge. At first it was just one then the others followed.

“Now that’s just weird. This is when I knew something was seriously wrong with our system,” Jeremy said, tapping the screen where two graphs interposed.

I followed his finger.

“Is that how I was reacting?” I asked.

“If you were reacting like this, this oxygenation level for example, your experience in Mindspace would break up as your mind resynchronized without the implants,” he said.

That wouldn’t have been good.

“Could it be a result of the video crash?” I suggested.

“Independent systems,” Jeremy said, shaking his head, “Your chemical levels are measured by your own implants.”

Then the audio started to fail slightly. This was when I was standing at the table, unsure of Peter’s intent. It left me uncomfortable knowing I was on my own when I needed Jeremy to be there the most. From what I could see and hear on the recording, he had no idea what was happening. Even my voice sounded strange, distorted in both pitch and volume.

“I remember speaking to you after this,” I said.

“Oh yeah, we did,” Jeremy said, “Right up until twelve minutes to shutdown when he agreed to leave. Then it all went crazy.”

“That was when we walked back past the pool,” I said.

“When you went past those strange data structures again?” Jeremy asked.

“But they didn’t affect the audio the first time,” I pointed out.

Jeremy hit the pause button and the screen froze.

“You think that audio sounded normal to you?” he asked.

I recalled the distortion in my own voice, “No, but.”

“If you hadn’t already had his agreement to leave then I was about to pull you there and then when I lost the audio,” Jeremy said.

“So why didn’t you?” I asked.

“You seemed to have it under control and at five minutes left you came back clear and sharp.”

“When I returned to the local net?”

Jeremy nodded.

“I think the equipment is fine, but something in that server was messing up my system real bad. I’d like to ask that guy when you’ve finished rehabilitating him what it was.”

I nodded, “I’ll let you know when he can speak.”

Jeremy pulled the fiber bundle from the cot and I realized that the display on the console said transfer complete.

“Want to get something to drink?” he asked.

I hadn’t had much time to socialize in this town since I got here. The only other person I knew well here was Steve and all of that time was during orientation training. But the first day on the job had been taxing and I really didn’t want to do anything tonight.

“Hey, thanks for the offer, but I’m not so sure,” my voice trailed off as he hardened his glance and I realized that I owed him this. My unspoken debt from earlier.

I smiled then and knew I had to go through with it.

“Sure, why not. I’ll buy the first round. I just want to check on Peter Roberts before we head out,” I said.

“When you’re done,” said Jeremy, walking over and snapping out the storage unit, handing it to me. He walked off in the direction of the cafeteria.

It wasn’t too quiet around the wards today and it took me a little while to locate the correct recovery room. There was a small glass window set in the door allowing me to see inside but it was dark and I didn’t see much. What I could see were a lot of tubes and I assumed Peter had moved from one form of life support to another.

I pushed the door open carefully and walked in. There in a recovery bed was the person who, only a few hours earlier, had eaten his last virtual breakfast for a while. I stood by the bed and spoke to him. People in his situation can still hear you, even if their limbs are sedated to avoid them injuring themselves. At least they can if they’re awake, which they usually are.

“Peter, it’s me, Jonathan. You’re back here at the wards now recovering from your loss of proprioception. You should start your physio tomorrow and begin to heal from there,” I said.

There was no response forthcoming, just the steady soft-tone rhythm of the EEG graph as the plastic display retraced its graphs. I waited for a moment then continued speaking.

“About your parcel, the one you asked me to hold before you came here,” I said, my hand unconsciously moving to my pocket to feel that the memory chip was there. Peter must have heard me because the lines on the EEG chart started to divert unexpectedly, the only response to my statement.

“It’s safe. It’s pretty big though and I need to discuss it with you when you can speak once more,” I said.

The graphing pens seemed to settle down as I said that.

“Anyway, you probably need some sleep now or if you’d like some music, I could do that too,” I said.

There was no response.

“You can communicate to me through the EEG. I’ll notice any large transitions in the display. Think about how you felt when I mentioned the link if you want radio,” I said.

The pens responded sharply but briefly.

“That seemed like a yes. I’ll put it on quietly with a local zone so you can hear it without disturbing anyone else.”

I leaned over near the bed console and brought up the local station de-multiplexer. I didn’t know what Peter liked but there was a channel that played contemporary music while having different news briefs every hour as well as the odd audio-documentary. In case Peter hadn’t been following what was going on in the real world, it might make him feel like he really was back here, not just blind and mute in some strange version of his world.

I stood there for a few more minutes, talking to him and letting him know what to expect over the next few days, at least as well as I knew it. I left after the nurse came in, telling him I would check in on him tomorrow. Jeremy was waiting for me in the cafeteria, drinking another dispensed coffee when I got there.

He tipped the rest of the coffee down the recovery drain, grabbed his pack and handed me mine which he must have retrieved from the ambulance. I threw it over my shoulder and followed him outside.

The place he wanted to go to wasn’t far so we walked there. There wasn’t anything particularly striking about the bar itself. It was long and thin with a narrow alley to one side and didn’t fit in with the rest of the buildings. It looked like it had been a later addition to this area.

There was a quiet table at the side and it wasn’t busy yet. I hadn’t had a chance to order when a young girl, looking almost too young to work here, came and dropped two huge glasses of a dark-looking beer on the table. She smiled quickly at Jeremy who returned it and then she left. I reached out and felt the glass. The surface of each was frosting over and it felt chilled as I slipped my fingers around it. There was probably a regulated disc of solid carbon dioxide loaded into the thermally conductive base to keep the liquid at the same temperature until we finished it.

I raised a glass in thanks for Jeremy’s earlier sacrifice to his natural language and tried the beer. It was some kind of ale and although it wasn’t as smooth as some I’ve had, there was something to the flavor that kept me sipping at it. After several long draws, I could see why Jeremy liked this place.

Then Jeremy and I got down to the serious task of unwinding from the day’s activities. He cut through the small talk before he’d even made it halfway through his glass. I hadn’t even made it a quarter through mine when Jeremy decided to talk about the lifers.

“I mean I just can’t understand why they do it?” Jeremy said.

“Stay on the net permanently you mean?” I asked.

“Yeah, like forever. I mean, I like spending some time on the net as much as the next guy, but it’s nice to come out at the end you know?”

“To sleep?” I asked.

“Hell no, just to live. I mean, just what can you do for so long in front of a screen or even in virt?” Jeremy asked.

“You know that lifers are in full immersion don’t you?” I questioned, careful not to offend my new colleague.

“I know they feel things inside Mindspace, but why stay there? You can get into a partial immersion setup, enjoy it and still want to come out,” Jeremy said. “And besides, I thought that the only reason people got implants was so they could fuck the computer and feel it.”

He went quiet after he said that and I assumed he was wondering if he had overstepped the mark.

“Not that I’d expect you to do that, I mean, you got yours for some army job right?” he added to cover his miss-spoken words.

I shrugged my shoulders and sat back, the surface of the seat deforming under my weight.

“I don’t see why not. It’s not exactly unheard of, you know. Enlisted men having fun with the computer when the officers aren’t looking,” I answered.

He seemed surprised by that answer.

“What exactly did you do in the forces?” he asked.

I wondered on how much to tell Jeremy. Only a handful of military jobs needed implants.

“I was a driver,” I said.

“Yeah, but you guys control vehicles and stuff and use the haptic feedback for a purpose. Anthropomorphized Vehicle Control right?” Jeremy said.

Jeremy must have been researching it to know something like that since AVC was one of the newer technologies that had appeared over the past decade. By anthropomorphizing the vehicle, you could come to accept it as your own body. With a little training, it allowed you to do things with fighting vehicles that were impossible with just a mechanical driver interface.

Most of it was still considered secret and not openly discussed in the corps. Like most secret military technology, I discovered again that sometimes the civilians had a better idea of what was going on than we did. The discussion was starting to get uncomfortably close to my past though. It wasn’t something I wanted to talk about but the beer seemed to be prodding me from the other direction too.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” I confirmed.

“So why risk your career to have a bit of quick fun if it’s against the rules?” Jeremy asked.

“You know, there are some pretty incredible sex programs floating around in the forces,” I said quietly, taking a long sip after saying it.

Jeremy went silent for a moment as he evaluated what I just told him.

“Naaah, no way. What with the Carter act getting passed and all?” he asked.

You didn’t need full implants to have sex with an AI or even another person in Mindspace. Haptic suits, interfaces and even the basic hallucinatory elements of the implants could all be fitted for short-term users. AIs could be created to virtually satisfy almost any sexual fantasy and if you had implants it was as real as, well, as reality. But wherever there are sex programs, there are religious fruitcakes in positions of power. People who think that they only way to save their own corrupted souls is to stop others from doing what they’ve already done. Attempting to engage in anything sexual in public Mindspace now was going to get you arrested.

Still, they couldn’t stamp it out on private servers and someone in my unit managed to subvert a weapon control AI that had a full virtual body. It was hard getting spare server time, but if you did it wasn’t something you quickly forgot. I avoided retelling the entire story.

“It’s not exactly common and you don’t want to get caught. But if your squadmate just happens to have a private server chit and some custom software you can always have a night on the town right?”

“So you?” Jeremy asked.

I could see a fire behind his eyes that told me his curiosity in this went far beyond idle interest. I wondered if he secretly wanted something like that.

“With an AI?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, fascination glinting in his eyes.

“Yeah,” I answered back, drawing another long sip from the glass to end that conversation thread.

I didn’t intend to have this conversation but three heavy draws on the dark liquid had already gone to my head more than I realized. I clearly wasn’t one of those who could keep knocking it back without suffering the consequences. Not that I didn’t know that already. Jeremy leaned across the table, as if wanting to keep this conversation private. He wasn’t willing to let it go.

“What’s it like?” he asked.

I shrugged. “A little too interactive, but I didn’t complain.”

I was trying to work out of if the face Jeremy made was fascination, disgust or envy and decided it was probably all three. I regretted the confession now but couldn’t take it back. I didn’t know my new colleague that well and felt annoyed I had already opened up this much. He nodded twice then slowly sat back.

“So are you worried or anything?” he asked.

“About what?” I asked.

“Going to hell or something? Getting in trouble? I don’t know. You strike me as the religious kind.”

I was relieved he had changed the subject to talk around it, rather than asking the sort of detailed intimate questions about the activity that I still wasn’t drunk enough to want to answer.

“Me? No. Not really. Hey, it was fun OK. I’m not going to tell you more than I have, but it was fun and for a squad it’s kind of bonding.”

I saw then the unwritten question in his eyes.

“No. I didn’t do anything that you couldn’t do in the real world without getting in trouble. The AIs are pretty smart and as accommodating as they are, they’re not going to let you do something that they believe is wrong, at least not without a fight. It’s just not possible to reprogram them and at best you’re going to end up getting caught and in trouble.”

I leaned over the table slightly and lowered my voice.

“You can make a sex program, sure, but that’s not much more than a smart doll. If your partner is just a robot, then you’re really only masturbating right?”

Jeremy nodded. I don’t think he was agreeing with me, just acknowledging my point of view.

“What made you think I was religious,” I asked.

Jeremy made a distorted shrugging sort of expression and took a long sip from his glass.

“You don’t seem to like profanity,” he said, coming up for air.

I smiled at that and wondered if he had thought it through when he came to that conclusion. I could see then how it might look to someone who wasn’t a Demon pilot.

“Swearing is one of the first signs of emotion distress. Control is critical when you’re piloting an AVC rig and if you can’t suppress your emotions when you’re doing that kind of work, people get hurt or even killed. It can also mess up your synchronization when you’re tinskinned.”

Jeremy picked up on the term.

“So you were a pilot then?” he asked.

I nodded slowly. “Direct Engagement”

“DEMON” Jeremy spelled it out slowly. It was almost as though he didn’t believe me.

DEMONs were Direct Engagement Military Offensive Neurosuits. The modern personal armor project that turned people into tanks. It was a section of the special forces that was already legendary and there still hadn’t been any major conflicts involving them.

“Demon Unit Three,” I said slowly.

Just hearing those words from my own mouth really bothered me. It was like talking of ghosts.

“Don’t Demon pilots have to serve for a decade before they pay off their due?” Jeremy asked.

“Ah, yeah, well I kind of ended up with an early discharge and I don’t really like talking about it,” I said.

Thinking about it only brought up the hurt that I spent the last month locking down. Jeremy flicked his head to the side and picked up his drink.

“No problem, I don’t mean to pry or nothing,” he said.

I don’t know if it was the uncomfortable silence or the half of my liter glass that I had already consumed but no other conversation came to me. It was as though the conversation wanted to come out.

“I was court-martialed then honorably discharged,” I said.

“Court-martialed?” Jeremy asked.

I nodded.

“How do you get an honorable discharge after a court martial?” he asked.

Normally the question would have irritated me past the point of civility, but something in the blunt mannerism of my new partner made it seem all right. Made it seem less judgmental than the other times I had been asked that same question. He didn’t try to dance around the subject. He just came right out upfront with his question as though it didn’t mean anything.

“When they really don’t have any basis for the charges and they don’t want to send you back to your unit,” I answered indirectly, speaking to the beer.

Jeremy made a long, slow humming sound as if he was processing what I just said. I waited for him to probe more, but the question was slow to come.

“Want to tell me what happened?” he eventually asked.

I shook my head, but I found myself speaking anyway.

“What do you do when you find your closest friends doing something that you don’t agree with?”

Jeremy nodded. “You convince them to stop or you do something about it.”

Convince them to stop. I wondered if I had that choice once and let it pass by.

“You missed one other option. You get involved and do it too.” I said.

“Yeah, but that’s not the path you took was it?” Jeremy asked.

I shook my head. “At first I did. I just turned a blind eye for a long time but you can’t deny what you know is the truth forever.”

“And sometimes you wonder if you should have taken the other option?” Jeremy asked.

He was remarkably perceptive.

“Yeah, I do.”

Jeremy shifted in his seat. “And what answer do you find?”

“That you can’t go back and change your mind.” I said. “What’s done is done. Live with the consequences.”

“So you did something you would have done if you had the choice all over again right? What’s the problem then?” he asked.

I smiled at that.

“You make it seem so simple,” I thought out aloud.

“Well, better for us. I think we pretty much lucked out with you coming on board.”

I didn’t expect that response.

“We’re not the only team,” I said.

“There’s five but only two teams have full neuro-implants and one of those teams is us.”

“What do the other three teams use?” I asked.

“Haptic suits or partial implants,” said Jeremy, “Not as effective since they lack empathy, but still better than yanking someone’s support when they’re not expecting it.”

I wondered who the other implanted team was. I had trained with several others in my orientation, but none of them had been retrieval teams. Some nurses and physiotherapists but no one else with fully haptic interfaces.

“Anyway, lifers are still a problem. I mean how screwed up do you have to be to cut your ties to the real world and spend your life online,” Jeremy asked, bringing the conversation back full circle.

I nodded but I didn’t agree with the sentiment. Nobody chooses to be screwed up.

“You did well today, though” Jeremy said, raising his mostly empty glass to me as he did.

I resisted duplicating his gesture, “It wasn’t all that difficult. All I did was talk to the guy.”

“Yeah, but you’re not the first, remember?” Jeremy said, “There were court appearances and lawyers before us. These people know that they’re going to get kicked out, but they still barricade themselves in and shut us out like it makes a difference. Dumb Fuh… uh, people never seem to get that the switch to their life support systems is on the outside.”

“But they’re still people,” I defended.

“That’s why they listen to you,” Jeremy pointed with a finger while he held the glass in his other hand. “Because you give a shh… You empathy with them.”

“Empathize,” I corrected him.

He looked at his glass, now near the last mouthfuls. “Damn this stuff is good. I’m already forgetting how to speak.”

Jeremy was mostly patient while I caught up and resisted ordering another. He told me about his background and what brought him to this job, how he wanted his own implants one day, which seemed at odds with his attitudes, but who am I to question that?

The effect of drinking a full liter of alcohol had started to seriously affect me when I paid for our drinks, more than I expected to, said goodnight and walked back home. Where I lived wasn’t anything spectacular and mostly empty even then, which was just as well, given the size of the place. Most of what I possessed still sat in a syncan duffle bag in the closet.

The room itself was a two-room third-floor box not far from the office, with a combined kitchen, living and sleeping area and a separate wet-area room that provided everything else. All that I owned here was the bed, which I pretty much bought on-spec from the landlord who had it delivered the same day. The bond ate up most of what I took with me when I walked in here and the bed took the rest. If it wasn’t for the free staff cafeteria at work, I would have been in real trouble.

I fished my hand into my pockets and pulled out my wallet and keys, my pass cards, each joining a small pile on the bench, then settled my hand around the storage memory that held the parcel. It felt smooth and light in my grip and for a moment, I wondered just what it was that it contained. I examined it closely. The storage drive itself was slightly shiny in appearance and already sporting a few scratches in the time since I’d had it.

It seemed such a small thing to hold all that remained important in Peter Robert’s life. Even as he was about to lose everything he had created, he still only cared about this one item. A gift. For someone Jeremy told me didn’t exist.

I wondered on that for a moment, then put it down on the bench near the other items from my pockets and walked over to my bed. It was hot tonight, so I didn’t bother pulling the sheets down.

* * * *

Chapter 5 - Someone for Everyone.

I woke just moments before I heard the click of the alarm that preceded the waking tone. Something hurt behind my eyes and I couldn’t recall what time I had gotten back last night or when I had gone to sleep.

Still wearing my clothes from the previous day I rolled over the side of the bed and dragged myself into the shower. With the hot water cascading over me, I had time to reflect on some of my recent choices and what had brought me here. Catching a glimpse of my own smile as I wiped the steam from the mirror reminded me that I had a good time last night, what I remember of it anyway.

I searched through my bag for some wrinkle-free shirts and underclothes. I had enough clothes for a few days, but I was down to my last pair of clean underwear. I’d need to wash my thingstonight and find somewhere to get some new clothes before I called Janet up.

I needed to find some food too. The cooler was working but mostly empty so I planned on finding somewhere to eat on the way to work.

Passing the bench on the way out, I picked up the storage drive and noticed in the morning light that the surface had a logo imprinted on it.

Exastore.

I fingered the logo for a moment, wondering on the contents of the parcel it contained then dropped it into my pocket before heading out onto the street.

There was a small cafeteria, or a shop that looked like it had a cafeteria, about halfway to work. That was my intended destination and I hoped I still had enough on my card for breakfast. The sidewalk was in shadow and there wasn’t a lot of early morning traffic this far out from the city so I followed my shadow down the street as the rising sun warmed my back.

It was only when I heard the sound of an electric drive coming up from behind that I jumped up to the sidewalk. An ambulance pulled in alongside me and a familiar face beamed out through the open side window.

“Jon, you’re out early,” Jeremy yelled from the cab, leaning forward to hit the open button.

I leaned on the open door, halting its open sequence rather than getting in. I noticed the fresh paint that had been smeared over several light gouges in the door panel and smiled, keeping away from that spot.

“Just finding some breakfast,” I said.

“Well get in then,” Jeremy insisted, “I’ll take you somewhere that’s good.”

I allowed the door to fully open then pulled myself into the cab. The door swung shut behind me with a buzzing sound as its servo mechanisms activated.

“There’s a great place near the office makes pancakes,” Jeremy said, looking over his shoulder as he swung the large vehicle back out into the street.

“Did you drive this home last night?” I asked as I got myself comfortable on the well-used seat.

“Nah, just got in early to check some stuff and then thought I’d go out for breakfast. Did you see the morning Angel?”

I looked at him, trying to work out what he was going on about. I think he picked up on the confusion.

“That Angel from yesterday, she’s still around today. I saw her heading out over the city this morning and wondered what brought an Angel here?”

“She?” I asked.

“Angel’s are all she’s,” Jeremy nodded, swinging the wheel hard to pull us around a corner. I felt myself slide and had to grab for the handles to stop myself from hitting the window. He was driving a lot more erratically today than he had yesterday.

“They’re androids,” I countered, “How can it be a she?”

“Hey, I don’t know, but she came in close to the office this morning and I’m telling you she had curves in all the right places. She was sort of hot in a metallic kind of way.”

I smiled at the emphasis in his description. It was like he was describing a girl he had seen in a magazine that he liked.

“They make them humanoid in appearance so people don’t go freaking out when they see them. It’s a lot easier to relate to something that looks vaguely human, but not too much,” I said.

“So why do you think they don’t cover them with plastic skin or something?” Jeremy asked, slowing the ambulance down.

“The uncanny valley,” I said. This I knew from Demon training, “They’re not human, so trying to make them look more human gets a really negative response from people. On the other hand, if they look vaguely humanlike, we tend to anthropomorphize them.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t have minded anthropomorphizing her,” Jeremy said with a leer.

The van came to a stop and Jeremy turned and smiled before jumping out. I followed him in and ordered at the counter. I tried to pick the less sweet items on the menu, but this place obviously didn’t think much of savory pancakes. Eating in the military I had my intake balanced with my activity but out here I had to give some thought to what I ate or I’d end up putting on weight. We found a quiet table and Jeremy pulled out a cheat-sheet with graphics and briefed me on the job for the day while we ate. It seemed simple enough – just a three month lifer.

“She met some guy in the ‘space and eventually moved in with him. We get a lot of that in our line of work,” Jeremy told me as I scraped some of the excess syrup from the cake.

“Just head in and help her back out and we don’t even need to bring her back. Family’s going to take her and have already signed the release forms,” he added.

I pulled over the cheat-sheet and read the details, flipping through the background information that was known. This person had met another in Mindspace some time ago. It had broken up her marriage but the affair continued until she decided one day to remain there, living out a fantasy instead of returning to the reality of her life. It must have been her next-of-kin who filled in the request. There was way too much personal information in here.

Her children were already grown and she was living alone when she did it, but it seemed that they wanted her back so it was likely to have a happy ending. At least as happy as these situations ever were.

Jeremy continued to eat as I considered what we needed to do. He mopped melted butter from his lip with another piece of pancake before pushing it down with even more. I wondered how he remained so skinny. After breakfast, we made a stop at the office to pick up the cot and the equipment we needed. Then we headed out to what was a single-floor house on the edge of town, not far from the airport.

“They don’t have the bandwidth out here, so she’s been living an incomplete life for a while. She comes out of it herself at times so we’re not expecting any proprioception issues today,” Jeremy continued to brief as we drove.

“It doesn’t always happen?” I asked.

“She’s not even fully haptic,” Jeremy said, “She had low-grade partial implants installed. That’s about all the average not-that-wealthy person can afford around here. She used to be an exec so she did have some cash for the ops, but still went with the lower grade stuff.”

Jeremy smiled as he continued with the details.

“That’s Pretty smart actually, because it’s the bandwidth costs that eventually get them all in the end. Anyway now her uplink provider is shutting her down.”

I thought about that for a moment.

“So what does it cost to stay online?” I asked.

Jeremy laughed.

“If I made enough to stay online one week in four, I’d be a happy man.”

“Yeah, but the pay isn’t that great for what we do anyway. At least I didn’t choose it for the money,” I said.

“That’s pretty obvious. You could do remote hazwork for commercials and be raking it in with the implants you’ve got. High bandwidth implants are still just too rare outside the military.”

It was at times like this that I actually felt good about my time in the forces, but only at times like this. As we pulled over at the house I noticed that there were quite a few vehicles surrounding it. Centered on the grass between the house and the road, a small crowd had also gathered. People of mixed ages I took to be relatives.

“Looks like a welcoming committee,” I said.

Jeremy got a worried look on his face and spoke under his breath to me.

“Keep your distance. Large numbers of people can be dangerous at times, especially if they don’t like what you’re doing.”

He continued to look at them warily as he got out of the cab and walked roadside around to the rear. I stepped out and walked over towards the people there anyway. They didn’t look threatening to me and it wasn’t as if I couldn’t handle myself.

“Hi,” I said, as one of them approached me also.

“Are you the ones shutting down the life systems?” she asked.

I looked around at the mention.

“Actually, that’s the paras. We’re just here to give any last minute help that we can and make things as easy as possible,” I said, “But the paras don’t appear to be here yet.”

“The cutoff isn’t scheduled for another hour,” she said quietly, “Is she going to be all right?”

“I’ve been told this should be relatively straightforward,” I said, “I’m not expecting any issues, but we like to be here to help if we can.”

The lady I was speaking to smiled nervously.

“Thank you, we’re a little worried here, reading all about what can go wrong after you spend too much time online. Feldman Syndrome and all those other problems.”

Jeremy came around with the cot folded and under his arm. Much of the equipment we needed was still in the ambulance.

“Which way?” he asked.

The lady I’d been speaking to directed us towards the side entrance and we followed her to where a large sliding door had been opened. The door and the doorspace itself seemed to have been armored more recently than the rest of the structure. There was a heavy mesh lattice on the outside with an opaque ferroglass door inside. That made sense. You didn’t just wake up from being connected if someone came into your house while you were online.

Just inside the room the door led to a scaffold. It was substantially smaller than the one I had seen yesterday and had a transparent lid, but it was still sealed. Jeremy preceded me into the room and dropped the cot, unfolding the legs as he went. As soon as he had the under-supports fastened, he walked back outside to retrieve the rest of his gear. I walked over and took a look through the closed lid of the cradle. The face within was covered with a large mask, not too dissimilar in appearance to the ones we wore in the Demons. It probably provided food as well as humidified air to her body while her mind was elsewhere.

Her eyes were closed and uncovered so her neurosystems were at least advanced enough to support visual and audio but that appeared to be the extent of her implants. The haptic interface was an external unit that fitted over the rest of her body from the neck down. It bulged around the genitals, no doubt a sexual interface and her hands and feet were planted inside haptic gloves. A basic haptic suit would use light electro-stimulation to provide sensory input elsewhere. Unlike a fully haptic environment, she needed to be awake to use this and she would be limited in the time she could spend here in any one session. No more than three months perhaps. Less if the systems detected any significant bacterial growth.

Just a couple of decades ago, this was as advanced as it got. External haptic stimulation systems allowed near-full immersion for the first time and it was hellishly expensive. It also felt completely dulled down, as if you were inside a bag while you were interacting with the world inside Mindspace. Everything you touched felt the same with one or two minor exceptions and you always knew you weren’t really there.

There was a dull grey logo across the haptics kit that said “Arilssman”. It was the same company that used to make these interfaces and even some of the newer neuro-interface systems over the past two decades. Their equipment was less common now. Their demise was widely publicized and I recall seeing it on Hyvid news when I was a kid.

The lady I had spoken to at the front of the house shuddered as she looked into the cradle. She obviously didn’t appreciate the mental image it conjured up.

“How can she spend all of her time doing that, at her age?”

I looked again at the haptic interface and this time noticed that there was some slight movement coming from the feedback interfaces near her genitals. It appeared she was having more than just an emotional relationship with her other half while connected.

In a way I felt happy for her. If these were to be her final hours, at least she was enjoying them.

“She hasn’t been working lately huh?” I asked.

The lady I took to be her daughter finished shuddering and looked at me with disgust, although it evaporated pretty quickly.

“She had some savings aside, but the increase in data costs have eaten through that. She hasn’t worked for several years,” she said quietly.

I sensed some of the disgust was possibly due to the lack of inheritance that situation usually led to. In a way, she was lucky that her family was here for her at all.

Someone in a suit came into the room and looked around. It wasn’t a cheap suit, not that I’m all that good at telling, but it had cufflinks on the ends which was a pretty strong indication. No-one wore cufflinks anymore and the look was entirely anachronistic, like he had come from sometime late in the twenty first century. Perhaps he was wealthy enough to indulge in such anachronistic practices. It might even have even been a cotton shirt.

He held a small plastisheet notice which bore the court logo and was probably the demand for disconnection. I guessed he was probably a lawyer.

“Where are the paras?” he asked, singling out me as the one who didn’t fit in. It was probably because of the company logo on my shirt.

“Not here yet. Where’s the Bailiff?” I asked.

“Not required for this. The paras can handle it.” he said.

Jeremy came back in, walked around him and started plugging items into the cot.

“You won’t be needing that,” said the lawyer.

“Not my call,” said Jeremy. “It’s on our sheet and we’re going in.”

“I requested it,” said the daughter.

The glance that passed between the lawyer and the lady told me they knew each other. I guessed the daughter had assisted them in fast-tracking the process. Jeremy removed a cap from a plug on the scaffold and jammed a large bundle of fibers in there.

“OK, we’re ready,” he said, looking back at a screen on the cot.

It surprised me that there had been so little to do for this retrieval. I’d have thought it would take him longer to get it together and I realized just how many times he must have done this. He assembled the cot like I could assemble a plasma rifle. He could probably do it with his eyes closed.

“Excuse me,” I said to the lady, then moved to the cot and lay back on the surface.

If Jeremy was ready, then there was no reason for me to delay, I shifted my head until I felt the implants come within range of the whitespace transmitters in the cot. You’re not supposed to feel that but it’s almost like a sixth sense when you get implants.

“You want to punch straight in here partial, or the lot?” Jeremy asked.

Partial? I didn’t even know there was a partial setting for my implants. Dulled sure, but partial?

“Please help her out safely,” asked the lady, softly, standing now with her arms wrapped around her own chest.

There was some noise at the door and I saw the paras come through. Janet was second, coming in between the middle of two others. I smiled at her.

“Jonathan,” she said as she looked at me, almost surprised.

Something about the tone of her voice told me she wasn’t expecting to see me and wasn’t delighted either. She had long sleeves on today. Maybe it was to cover up the bruise.

“I’m just heading in now, I’ll talk to you when I’m out.” I said.

She smiled uncomfortably and nodded. “See you then.”

“All the way, Jeremy, give me the lot,” I said, then the room switched out.

#

I was standing in a wide open park now, the local private server beneath me as I stood in the gateway. Several bungalows sat in a grove of trees, paths between them worn well.

Unlike Peter’s server, there were quite a few people here and although some looked, none seemed bothered by my sudden appearance. I assumed that this particular server was located elsewhere and the scaffold was just the access point for the lady who hired this service from the provider. A couple of birds, some kind of parrot, flew by and flitted around several trees playing a game of chase. I watched them until they were out of sight.

“Jeremy, this place isn’t cleared,” I said, expecting him to fill me in.

“You got it boss. In fact, we really didn’t need your skills for this one, but you’re available,” his voice crackled.

I wondered at that. There was no need for his voice to crackle.

With so many people around, I had no idea where to find the person I was looking for. I had expected, based on the briefs, for the server to be restricted. It’s easier to find someone when they’re the only person there.

“You’re looking for this person,” said Jeremy, anticipating what I wanted and a window popped up ahead of me as I walked.

At first I stopped, afraid I’d bump into it and fall over, but as I got closer it scooted just out of range. It must have come from the server itself because it showed me a younger version of the person I was looking for. She had a more Asian appearance to her features as well.

“Doesn’t look like her at all,” I said.

“Ahh, Jon, we’re on open mic back here, by the way. Anyway, this server doesn’t need to follow the usual conventions of Mindspace. You can change your appearance at will here. It’s a fully registered private network service.”

Now I understood, although it was actually my first time in a private server like this. The rules were different and breaking them could get you kicked out.

I walked over to a group of people that were sitting down near a small lake. They were talking and eating but once they noticed me, all of the faces turned around to look. Most of them were had an Asian appearance so I probably stuck out with what I assumed was my normal face. I wondered how many of them could experience food completely inside a place like this with partial haptics. Perhaps some of them had more than that. For many, the tactile sensations of eating would be limited to a feeling that couldn’t penetrate beyond their lips very far, probably not even as far as their teeth.

The group continued looking up and at me silently as I approached, clearly surprised to see someone they didn’t recognize. Servers like this usually didn’t allow outsiders to come in too often unless they were a guest. I bent down on one knee so as not to seem too imposing and introduced myself.

“Hi, my name’s Jonathan and I’m wondering if you can help me find someone. Amy Rivenstock.”

They all shook their heads, except for one girl at the back who covered her mouth with her hand. I let it sink in for a moment as I locked eyes with her.

“Oh no, please no, is San Li in trouble?”

San Li? That was a surprise.

“Ah, no, not really, I just need to speak to her.” I said quietly.

“Are you from the net service?” she asked.

“Samaritans,” I said quietly, illiciting a little cry from the girl, who then stood up and ran around the back of the group to me.

At first I wasn’t sure what her reaction was, but she reached down and grabbed my hand, lifting it up and pulling me away.

I got up and followed her.

“Please, tell me what it’s about?” she pleaded.

“I’m sorry, but with privacy laws I really can’t discuss it,” I started before she interrupted me.

“But I’m her sister,” said the girl.

This was getting stranger by the minute. I looked down at her. She couldn’t have been older than perhaps eighteen or nineteen. Amy Rivenstock was an old lady whose children had all grown up and had their own children. The young girl walked backwards for a moment, beckoning me to follow as she talked.

I followed.

“She’s been so worried about this. Please tell me how much time she still has.” The girl asked.

“Ahhh, look, really, I can’t,” I told her.

”She doesn’t have any more time, does she?” said the girl, wetness forming in the edge of her eyes even if she wasn’t crying openly.

“The Samaritans? You’re really like the angels of death aren’t you? I know you mean well, but you only come before someone goes.”

I felt bothered by the comparison. Were they all going to be like this? I still needed to speak to Amy.

“Look, you obviously know what is going on. Please take me to her if you know where she is. If I can talk to her, I might be able to help her. It’s easier on people if they see it coming rather than dealing with the sudden shock of being ripped out of this world. It gives them the time they need to make preparation to leave, to say goodbye.”

The girl’s eyes were becoming red and fully tearing now.

“She’s probably this way,” said the girl, her voice breaking with emotion as she ran off down the lakeside.

Not sure what else to do, I followed her.

I don’t think she had exertion limits on her access point because after running behind her for some distance, my chest hurt and I was having trouble breathing. The laws that governed Mindspace made it the same inside as out for most of us but she wasn’t affected as I was. I didn’t really consider how slight differences in the physics of private servers would affect the experience before now. This particular server felt almost dreamlike to me, the slight variations between here and the real world giving it a surreal edge. The uncanny valley doesn’t only extend to how we see almost-human androids. It also extends to how we see reality, although that didn’t really become apparent until they started full immersion access to virtual realities with haptic interfaces.

As the girl stopped, I found I had to bend over and put my hands on my knees. She looked at me strangely as if she had never seen that happen before. When she saw she had my attention, she pointed towards a bungalow. I looked towards it, but when I looked back she was looking away.

“Please tell her that San Min will contact her in the real world,” she said, then she ran away with a strange gait.

I watched her leave then walked up a short ramp that was covered with half-logs every so often and onto the balcony at the front of the bungalow. The small server screen that had appeared in front of me bobbed against the ramp as I walked up then plastered itself on the wall of the bungalow as I stood before the entrance. I knocked on the door and waited. After a short while, a young Asian girl with disheveled black hair came to the door.

“Can I help you?” she asked in an Asian tinted English as she recognized I wasn’t from this server.

“I’m looking for someone,” I said, “San Li.”

She got a strange look on her face as she straightened her hair.

“Yes?” she answered cautiously. She held the door halfway across her body as if expecting to use it to shield herself. She looked even younger in person than the picture that sat on the wall beside her.

“Amy?” I asked, inquisitively.

Her eyes opened wide and she slammed the door shut. It looked like I had found the person I wanted to speak to. I waited for her to open the door again for a short time, then when it didn’t I spoke loud enough for her to hear me through it.

“Amy? I’d like to speak with you. Once I know it’s you, I have something to tell you. My name is Jonathan and I’m with the Samaritans.”

“Damn, boss, she doesn’t look anything like her picture,” said Jeremy into my mind. “She could cop quite a hefty fine if she goes out into Mindspace like that.”

The door opened again, this time a young Asian male looking only a little older than twenty opened the door.

“You can’t take her,” he said bluntly, as if it was going to make a difference.

“I’m not here to take her,” I said. “Can you please tell me what relation you are to Amy?”

The training taught me what I had to say but it still came out sounding hollow and plastic.

That’s not the best thing when you wanted to gain someone’s trust as quickly as possible.

“I’m San Li’s, Amy’s, husband,” said the man.

I stepped back and gave him some space. I didn’t want this to get confrontational. From the sound of his voice, I don’t think he felt the same. I got ready to ask Jeremy to get ready to pull me, although I hadn’t seen anything specific that suggested this was going to go badly yet.

“Ah, look, I’m with the Mindspace Samaritan’s. I just want to talk to Amy and let her know what’s going on.” I said.

“You can’t take her,” he said again, blocking the door. Beneath his arm, I saw the slight figure of the rebuilt Amy hiding behind him.

“She’s going to have her life support cut off shortly,” I said, “I can’t do anything to stop that. All I can do is talk to her and help her with the transition. I’m here to help if she wants but otherwise I’m just the messenger.”

“No,” he responded, flexing his muscles. As he did, the tattoos on his skin that I hadn’t noticed before started to flare one by one, and glow.

It was clearly another localized effect of this server. I took it as a threat and instinctively dropped back a little. Then Amy pushed past him and stood out in front, facing me.

“What do I need to know,” she said now, in perfect English. Her Asian accent had been replaced by an American one.

Her husband turned and pulled her around by the arm to look at him and started to yell at her in some dialect I wasn’t familiar with, to which she responded in kind. At first I thought he was going to hit her, the anger in his face clearly rising with each exchange of words. Then when he did react, he only pulled her to his chest, holding her tightly, tears forming in his eyes as he did.

“I love you Li,” he said now in English. “Please contact me when you leave.”

She held him back just as tightly, pulling him close.

“Jon, you’re on audio only,” Jeremy called out.

“Problems?” I asked quietly in a whisper, turning and holding my finger to my ear as if I had a earpiece.

“Ahh, no, just that it seems like this should be private,” Jeremy called back.

The screen on the wall of the bungalow with Amy’s face on it disappeared and flicked out. I was left standing there, uncomfortable, as these two embraced like this for what might be the last time.

“I’ll find a public terminal again,” said Amy as she slowly came back from him.

“Call me, from the real world. I’ll come to America and find you, bring you home.”

She cried and shook her head as he said that. I felt even more uncomfortable, the angel of death accusation still ringing in my ears. Finally, she faced me and stepped away from her husband, looking me directly in the eye through tear-swollen lids.

“I’m ready,” she said, “I’m going to leave now.”

“Don’t you have any questions for me?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“I’ve been in and out several times in the last year. I know how to do this.”

“Your family’s out there,” I said.

”I thought they might be, thankyou,” she said, then she just vanished.

“Jeremy, did you?” I asked.

“No, she initiated the transfer herself. I think she’s been prepared for this,” he said.

I stood there, looking at the tear-streaked face of the man who moment before looked ready to kill me to protect his wife. Now it was just the two of us standing there. I turned to leave and walked to the ramp. It wouldn’t be polite to just vanish like that, especially as an outsider.

“Samaritan, before you go,” Amy’s husband called out as I prepared to arrange an extraction. I held off on the command. Jeremy’s voice sounded out a caution.

“Careful, Jon, he’s not within our jurisdiction. If he has some kind of weapon, you’re fully haptic and he may not be. I’m pulling you now.”

“Wait Jeremy,” I called out and tapped the side of my head to let Amy’s husband know I was talking to another, then looked him in the eye and spoke again.

“What do you want?”

“Are you able to get a message to Amy?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Tell her I still love her. Tell her to send me her address and I’ll come and see her,” he pleaded, “Please.”

I nodded slowly and turned to leave again when he reached out and grabbed my arm. His grip was strong, especially for a private server, but if the physics in this place supported combat mode he would possibly still lose. Unless he was military trained also. Either way, I resisted the urge to respond in kind.

“Please, I love her and I don’t want to lose her,” he begged.

“She’s not dead,” I pointed out.

“But I don’t have her real address,” he explained, “And I don’t think she’s going to call me. There’s something she’s not telling me.”

It was time to go. I didn’t want to be caught in a strange server if something went wrong.

“I’ll pass your message on but that’s all I can do,” I said.

It’s strange how someone who seems so forceful and strong can suddenly look so weak and humble, even when you’re in a virtual world. Everything about the way you would respond in the real world can translate completely into what doesn’t exist. After that exchange, I guessed Amy’s husband was fully haptic just as I was.

“Thank you Samaritan,” he said, then turned and walked inside without closing the door.

At first I wondered why he had left so quickly. Then, from deep inside, I heard the slow keening wail of a man who had just lost his wife and knew he could do nothing about it. I walked away, getting ready to leave the server. Finding a quiet spot near some trees, I was just about to ask for a shift when I saw another westerner standing further along. They ducked back behind a tree but not before I caught a glimpse of a familiar face. It was the lady I had encountered in Mindspace outside of Peter’s apartment. The one who didn’t exist.

“Hey,” I called out. It’s not the most original way to catch someone’s attention, but since she was looking for me anyway, it didn’t seem to matter.

She turned and ran.

By the time I made it to the tree she had been standing behind, she was well and truly out of sight.

“Jeremy, did you see that?’ I asked.

There was no response.

“Jeremy?”

There was a faint popping sound then I transitioned back to the cot in Amy Rivenstock’s house. I felt for my limbs and found that the synchronization had gone cleanly this time. Jeremy looked concerned as I rolled over on the cot and swung my legs out and underneath me.

“Are you all right Jon?” he asked.

”Yeah, did you see that?” I asked back.

“I lost signal again so I pulled you out. There’s something wrong with this damn cot or PDU.”

I nodded, not sure what to make of that. From somewhere in the room I could hear the quiet sound of muffled crying. Twisting my head around, I realized it was coming from the scaffold. It was Amy Rivenstock. The para’s stepped back.

“She’s fine,” they said to the daughter. “Just the shock of coming out I believe.”

The lady who had brought me in here nodded.

“Get out,” came a scream that made a few para’s jump. No one moved.

“I said get out, all of you.”

Amy’s voice sounded very different in the real world. It was a lot harsher, a lot grittier and there was no trace of her earlier accent. Either accent.

Still no one moved. There was the brief sound of struggling as the crying stopped. I had just stood up from the cot when I saw the old lady swivel in the scaffold cradle and pull herself out. She had taken care of her real world body from the look of it, because her muscles hadn’t atrophied significantly and she was more than capable of extricating herself.

“I still own this house and unless you all have business here of a legally enforceable nature, you’re now trespassing. I asked you all to leave.” Amy said now, her trembling voice making sure all knew the pain she felt.

The lawyer was the first to nod his head at that and leave. His work was done and now all that remained was for us to leave. Jeremy worked efficiently at dismantling his kit as I reached down to pick up some of the items he had already unplugged. Amy’s daughter stepped forward and tried to hold her mother back.

“Mother, you need to be calm. We’re not here to force you out – that wasn’t our choice. We’re here to help you back,” said the daughter who had opened this place up.

I finished collecting the items and placed them on top of the cot so we could carry them all out at once. Amy Rivenstock looked around, still angry, hurting and holding a hand out to ward off her daughter who was trying to get close. She closed her eyes and looked at the ground for a moment then looked directly at me.

“Samaritan, I want to talk to you,” the old lady called out then looking at her daughter, swallowed hard before speaking.

“Please, Danielle, I want to speak to this man before he leaves. Just wait outside for me until then.”

The anger in her voice dissipated as quickly as it had risen. I realized then that she was only just starting the grieving process for her loss, as virtual as it was. I wondered if her daughter picked up on the situation.

“Mother I…” she said, but the old lady’s finger flew up in a warning and the daughter went quiet. It had clearly been a part of their relationship. Danielle looked over at me and then nodded as if expecting something. Then she left. Without another word, the others all filed out of the small room. Janet came over and caught Jeremy, picking up my end of the cot. Then with a quick, nervous smile she left with him.

The old lady’s head swiveled to watch as each of them left, then after they had gone, ignored that the door was still wide open and turned to me. She was still wearing her haptic suit.

“Thankyou for waiting.” She said quietly now, her tone changing yet again. I hoped she wasn’t going to switch back to anger.

She wasn’t a physical threat to me but it’s not all that pleasant when an older lady starts yelling at you. Unless you’re going to put her on her backside, there’s not much you can do about it. I found a chair not too far from where she was standing and sat myself down. It was an awkward moment.

“You came out of that well. You don’t seem disoriented at all,” I said quietly.

She pressed her lips thin for a moment, her face reflecting light where the tears were already wetting her cheeks but hadn’t started to fall yet.

“Do you have any idea of what I’m going through?” she asked.

I breathed in slowly then out. This wasn’t going to be easy.

“Grief, loss, a feeling of disorientation and disconnection from reality. It’s fairly usual to have these feelings when you come out.”

She nodded. “Is that what they teach you? Where did you learn to help people out? Psych 101?”

I frowned involuntarily at the jab.

“What would you like me to say?” I asked quietly. It sounded like she didn’t have any questions for me. Like she just wanted someone to wail on, to take her verbal beating so she could express her emotions. That was something else we were taught during the two week initiation.

“Tell me what you think I’m really feeling.” She demanded, although she was quiet enough that it was difficult to tell that it was a demand.

I shrugged slowly.

“I don’t know. Pain, but not the sort that a decent painkiller helps. I’m standing here on the safe side – I don’t have to leave anyone or anything behind. I’m actually new at this, but I’m still a person. Sometimes it’s helpful to talk about what’s bothering you to another person. Especially one that’s just there to listen and not pass judgment.”

Amy Rivenstock looked away then, staring at a plain wall in the room as if it once held some significance for her.

“I spent five years with him,” she said, talking to the wall now but intending for me to hear. “Five years with another man after I left my husband for him. Five years with what amounted to interactive connection rather than real intimacy of closeness.”

I didn’t respond. It wasn’t my turn yet.

“You know, it’s no less real to the heart. It’s been a long time since I was in love with someone. Even as old as I am, I can honestly say that it was the first time I experienced true love and now it’s gone. I’m as dead to him as if some tragedy had come and taken me, except there’s not supposed to be any pain for the dead is there?”

Her eyes fixed on me again.

“That’s the one benefit of being the one who did the bereaving. You don’t have to feel the pain.”

Small tears started to form on the bottom of her chin as she spoke. I could see the wetness of the flow in the reflected light from the window.

“But it only works like that in the real world,” she said slowly, trying not to cry again.

I wondered if she blamed me for my part in this. All I could do was nod and let her know I was listening.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m still grateful for your warning and I got to say goodbye,” she said.

Now it was my turn.

“He wanted me to pass a message to you.”

Her eyes opened wide, old and dark within.

“You didn’t tell him where I am did you?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Privacy laws, but he said you knew where he was.”

She looked away again, confirming it.

“He still loves you and wants you to contact him in this world,” I said, completing my impromptu obligation to a man I didn’t know.

Amy made a snorting sound that blew tears from her nose.

“Wants me? Look at me! I’m an old lady in this reality. I’m old enough to be his grandmother.”

I nodded, understanding. She wasn’t quite old enough for that I thought, but then there was no point in saying it.

“He doesn’t know does he?” I said slowly, evenly and quietly.

She shook her head, flicking more tears around as she did so.

“He’s the son of a wealthy businessman within the Asian Union. Somewhere in Australia or maybe Papua,” she said, then added, “He looks to be about his real age.”

I sat there quietly.

“Well, aren’t you going to ask me what I’m going to do? Am I going to call him or will I go back to my life with my family? Isn’t that what you’re taught to do? Help me with my problem?”

I waited a moment and shook my head slowly before answering.

“That would make me rather miserable company wouldn’t it?” I said.

She nodded, then the composure she had temporarily gained drained away and the crying seemed to follow the tears. I just sat there for a while, listening, not speaking. Sometimes people just want someone there when they’re hurting. No-one wants to be alone with their pain. That’s not something they taught me. That’s something I’ve learned from experience. After a while she quieted and when I thought it was time, I got up again and walked over, crouching slightly before her.

“It’s time for me to leave now.”

I fished in my shirt pocket for one of the built-in supply of business cards that came with the uniform and pulled one out.

“You don’t need to come to the recovery wards but I’m still your counselor for a while. If you need to talk, give me a call all right?”

I pressed the card into her hand, held it there firmly, smiled then stood. As I walked out of the room, I thought I heard a quiet whisper of “Thankyou.” Several faces turned to converge on me as soon as I walked around to the front of the house. I walked over to her daughter, Danielle.

“She’s fine. You might want to speak to her now but be mindful that she’s still going through a traumatic experience,” I said.

Danielle nodded, then walked around me and back to the house though no-one else followed her. I walked back to the ambulance slowly, looking for Janet amongst the many people there. I didn’t see her. It was too far from the hospital to walk to so they must have driven. Coming around the back of the ambulance, I assumed they had driven off already.

“Ahh, Jon, good work back there.” Jeremy encouraged, but it was clear something else was on his mind.

“What’s up?” I probed directly.

“Ahh, well, look, Janet asked me to pass on a message,” he said.

I nodded.

“And, well, look, I’ll tell you on the way,” he said then closed up the ambulance.

I moved back to the cab and waited. It took a little while for Jeremy to lock everything down, then he jumped into the cab and maneuvered it out without saying anything. He didn’t even look at me. We were well away from Amy Rivenstock’s house before he finally spoke.

“Jon, I don’t think Janet wants you to come by,” he said at length.

I must have had a surprised look on my face, because he elaborated.

“I mean, you can call her and discuss it if you want to, but she kind of took me aside and let me know what was going on.” Jeremy said.

“Which is?” I asked.

“Her man, as she put it, is back in town and wants to get serious. Seems he came over last night when his ship came in and he’s leaving the coast guard,” Jeremy said.

I narrowed my eyes, not sure what reaction Jeremy was expecting, then smiled at him.

“That was pretty nice of you,” I said at length.

“Huh?” Jeremy asked.

“I mean, I didn’t even know her and I don’t think we spoke more than a few sentences, but you really took that seriously and wanted to let me down gently didn’t you?” I said.

“Ahh, Yeah. You’re not angry?” he asked.

“Not really, but I’m actually kind of flattered. It means she thought enough of me to tell you rather than just ignoring me or telling you to tell me not to call.”

I felt the need to explain.

“I mean, I was looking forward to a date with her, but all said, it’s not like we had even connected yet, you know?”

Jeremy smiled, “No hurt then.”

“No, not at all,” I said.

I was disappointed though. I still felt bad about accidentally hitting her and really had been looking forward to taking her out. Still, if it wasn’t to be, then it wasn’t going to happen. I sat in silence for a moment, reflecting on what I had seen inside of the private Server Amy was living in. It was then I recalled the woman in the tree grove.

“Hey Jeremy, what happened when the signal went out?” I asked.

“Not a lot. The lifer was out so I just pulled you,” Jeremy said.

“Did you notice anyone nearby when it happened?”

“No, I lost everything, why?” he asked.

“No reason, just curious.” I said.

This was the second time I had gone into Mindspace and the second time that woman had shown up. I wasn’t sure what the odds were of appearing on two different evictions were but I guessed they were remote.

“I’ll have to fix that one real quick,” Jeremy muttered to himself.

Then Jeremy craned forward in his seat again and looked up at a trail that was forming in the sky.

“Hey, the Angel’s back.”

I didn’t need to lean forward to see it. The trail moved rapidly ahead of us and then began to descend. I could almost make out what looked like a flying person at this range.

“Hey, Jon, do you need to get back to the office? If the Angel’s on the ground, I want to take a look.”

That thought worried me, although it was difficult to think of why. The old adage of fools came to mind.

“It might not be a good idea, Jeremy,” I said, watching as it dropped behind some buildings barely a kilometer away.

“I’ve never seen one up close,” Jeremy said, already pulling into the centre lane. He was getting ready to chase after it.

I was starting to wonder how deeply his fascination with them went. It seemed to go far beyond purely technical interest and he clearly wanted to follow it. But there wasn’t anything better that I had to do. If Jeremy wanted to chase Angels, who was I to question it?

“Let’s go take a look then if you want,” I said.

Jeremy’s response came non-verbally as the ambulance tilted slightly on its suspension and the wheels protested the speed with which he took the corner.

* * * *

Chapter 6 - Angel

I sat patiently while Jeremy drove away from the main streets and into the industrial sectors of the city.

“This area is near the old Arilssman facility,” Jeremy explained, “Most of the buildings are abandoned or just used for storage now, I wonder if it’s back for maintenance?”

I didn’t answer him. Every few seconds, he craned his neck around, alternating between looking at the sky and looking at where he was going. After a few serious directional corrections I started to worry that if he continued there was going to be an accident.

I was about to ask him to slow down when I heard a series of sharp cracks put together like an enormous raspberry. It was a sound I knew from my former life and instinctively I felt my hands trying to grip something that wasn’t there anymore.

“Get us out of here now,” I warned.

Jeremy turned to me, staring, startled by my sudden outburst.

“What’s with the sudden change?” he asked.

Another sound rang out, echoey and distant, as I wound down the window and tried to determine the direction it came from.

“Someone’s shooting. Get us out of here now!” I yelled , trying to get my point across.

From the look on his face he didn’t understand the seriousness of the issue. The weapons on hypervid all sounded much slower and very different. It wasn’t something you’d know unless you’ve heard it before. Still driving, Jeremy blew air from the side of his mouth in a dismissive motion.

“It was just someone starting an ethanol tool without a muffler. Chill dude,” he said.

It seemed that nothing was going to dissuade his search for the Angel. Another long burst of sound pushed me into action. I reached over and grabbed him by the arm, squeezing hard enough to hurt and more than hard enough to get his attention.

“Jeremy, do you know what makes that sound? It’s not an engine starting up. It’s a two millimeter plasma rifle on burst fire.”

Perhaps it was something in the urgency of my voice that got to him or the fact that sane people don’t react like that, but his expression changed. He started to slow and pulled closer to the side of the road.

“People don’t fire that kind of stuff in the streets,” he said, concern spreading slowly across his face.

I nodded.

“Angels tend to follow trouble. I don’t think we want to be around here to find out why there’s an Angel here. Only fools rush in.”

“Where angels fear to tread,” Jeremy completed, then began to slow a lot quicker, “All right then, I’ll make a turn and get us back to the freeway.”

Jeremy swung hard into the next street, between warehouses but the noise sounded again, far louder than the other times. Realizing he had just made a bad choice of street, he froze at the wheel as a man in body armor backed out of one of the car parks. At this distance, it appeared to be a corporate security guard about fifty yards further down the street. In his hands he held a plasma rifle, well bedded into the shooting pad on his shoulder.

“Oh fuck,” said Jeremy, clearly unable to maintain his profanity-free thought any longer.

The ambulance came to a screeching halt as it skewed sideways into the road kerb. The guard spun around at the sound, leveling his weapon at us and for a moment I thought he was about to open fire. Then he lifted his face from the sight and looked over the weapon at us. Jeremy put his hands up.

“Jeremy, get us out of here, now!” I growled.

“Dudes got a gun pointed at us,” said Jeremy.

The guard lifted his hand up, knuckles towards us and flicked his fingers twice in a shooing motion. Then he turned back and aimed in the direction from which he had just come. I pushed Jeremy, who had frozen again, hard enough to make him hit the far side of the cab.

“Jeremy, if the man with a gun wants us to leave, I think we should leave.”

Jeremy looked like he had lost all coherence. His eyes were wild with fear and he moved unsteadily. He fumbled the starter several times, then grabbed the wheel and started to reverse us.

“Yeah, OK, just got to get back a bit to turn.”

His voice was breaking up as panic set it.

He craned his head to the side and checked behind us while he moved back to turn. I was looking around trying to identify the threat when the sound of burst fire came again. The tip of the guard’s rifle lit up with a bright blue glow and a cluster of faint blue traces appeared in the air between the guard and something he just shot at.

Jeremy’s hands came off the wheel at the sound and he turned forward again to look at what was going on just before things went from bad to worse. As I watched, a smaller foreign-made Demon came sprinting out of the carpark at tactical speed. Flashes of light erupted from its chest as the plasma rifle ate away at its ablative armor. A heartbeat later, it had closed in on the guard.

The guard was firing fully automatic now, turning the ablative armor of the machine’s chest into a glowing mist of orange and green fire that burst forth like an unleashed plasma. The Demon didn’t stop however and swung its huge forty millimeter autocannon into the guard. The impact picked him up and hurled his shattered body in our direction. Body armor flew apart as the guard continued in an arc that took him straight towards us. He smashed into the front window of the ambulance, shattering aluglass and covering it with a red stain. Several body parts had penetrated all the way through and blood spattered the inside of the cab showering both Jeremy and I.

The dead guard obscured whatever view I had of the Demon but what I had seen was enough. It was a Chinese-made Second-Taiwan-conflict Demon. I’d seen the low rounded head before and knew the capabilities of the sensor band that gave it its name. We called them Monks. They were considered less than state-of-the-art and not much of a threat to a modern Simian class Demon. Regardless, they were far more than an untrained guard would have been able to take down with nothing but a plasma rifle and body armor.

Jeremy started screaming, staring up at the corpse embedded in his vehicle windscreen. He opened the door and rolled out, still yelling as he fell. For a moment, I considered jumping into the driver’s seat and driving away. The Monk had more than enough firepower to stop me but might not see me as a threat if he hadn’t opened fire yet. If I stayed put, he almost certainly would open fire just to be sure. At least that’s what we were trained to do.

But as much as I wanted to save my own skin, I couldn’t bring myself to abandon him. Even if he had driven us right into the middle of this. I tried to open the door but it jammed.

I leaned over towards the other side of the cab so I could get out. If I could get to Jeremy and walk him out of this place, maybe whoever was piloting the Monk would let us go. It wasn’t our fight afterall. Jeremy was still on the ground making heaving sounds when I heard the monk move up until it was side-on to the vehicle.

“Don’t move,” came a grim warning from the Monk’s public address, the sound echoing through the canyon-like streets.

Then as if to demonstrate the seriousness of our situation, he pointed that huge autocannon at Jeremy. As if he needed that much firepower to stop two soft targets. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed and more gunfire crackled amidst the occasional thump-thump sound of 40mm autocannons.

The smart thing to do was surrender. Soldiers tended to respect medics and we were in an ambulance and unarmed. But the demand came at the exact same time that Jeremy got over his vomiting and, seeing the autocannon barrel pointed at him, ran.

Sitting there I expected to hear the sharp report of the autocannon as the pilot cut Jeremy down, but instead of firing, I heard the word “Shit” come over the PA and the pilot turned and ran after Jeremy, warning him to stop.

It was then that I realized he hadn’t opened fire because he didn’t want to give his position away. Plasma rifles made a lot of noise but it wasn’t likely to attract the sort of immediate attention that an autocannon would.

Still, he wasn’t about to let us go either. The monk took two steps to the side, taking it out of my field of vision and I heard the high-pitched whine of servo’s realigning the barrel. He wasn’t going to hold fire forever.

“Jeremy, you idiot,” I said under my breath.

I swung back around in the gore-splattered cabin and kicked my door open. Stepping out, I slipped on the dead guard’s autorifle, instinctively picking up up.

My first thought had been to get away from the vehicle and find somewhere to hide. It should have been my only thought but something about holding the rifle in my hands set me in a different frame of mind.

It felt more like old times.

Ignoring the blood that covered the older weapon, I quickly checked that it wasn’t damaged. It seemed familiar in my hands yet something wasn’t quite the right. It was a M-37 – not a rifle I had used before but close enough to the M-19A1 that I knew how to work it. Working with practiced fluidity, I wiped the gore from the indicators and checked its operational status. Charge levels were still green and the clip more than half full. It was still hot, but ready to fire.

By the time I moved around the front of the ambulance, the M-37 was already sitting in place against my shoulder. I embraced it like an old friend and peered carefully around the ambulance, staying close so as not to stand out to that sensor band around the Monk’s head.

Jeremy looked to have made it halfway back to the road we had come but had fallen. The Monk was moving towards him now, barrel aimed with intent. It wasn’t difficult to tell that the pilot was hoping to put him down quietly, his huge feet giving out a heavy thump with each step. A quick glance around told me there wasn’t going to be any cover near the ambulance and the autocannon wouldn’t be hindered by the light skin of the vehicle. I couldn’t recall being in a worse position, tactically, even on tour in Taiwan.

The Monk slowed as it approached Jeremy but was still moving at a running pace, probably thinking how best to eliminate him. Like the Simian I was used to piloting, it had advanced tracking gear in that sensor array around its head. Unlike the Simian, it doesn’t cope with parallax well and doesn’t detect movement slower than the speed at which it’s moving.

Taking advantage of that, I made a run for the other side of the road where a narrow alley offered some cover and an escape route. Either the pilot was inexperienced or I got lucky, but I made it without him seeing me. Something in the back of my mind told me to keep on running but my military training pushed my back against the wall. I took cover and peered the weapon around the corner.

Jeremy had made it back to his feet, but there was no way he would make the corner now. He was limping but the monk ran out of patience, came to a stop and aimed the large autocannon. He adjusted the Demon’s standing position and opened the breach ejection seals in preparation to fire. Whatever luck had saved us from being fired upon so far seemed to have run out.

I could fire a burst into the Monk’s back, perhaps give Jeremy a chance to flee again, but if he tracked me here, the wall wouldn’t offer much protection from return fire. With options running out, I didn’t see the second Demon until it air-dropped directly into the fight. Coming in hot, it landed between the Monk and Jeremy. I held fire as I waited to see if it was friend of foe. Most of it was obscured, but from what I could see, it was tiny.

Grey titanium metal highlighted with inlaid black and cyan reflected off the surface of an armored suit I had never seen before. The Monk froze in position, not sure where to open fire as the new threat put itself between the Monk’s autocannon and Jeremy with its arms spread wide.

“Walk away and leave these men alone,” came an androgynous voice. I sighted along the rifle through the integrated SWIR sight to get a closer look.

Still trailing plasma from the thrust-jets as they continued to operate, Jeremy’s savior seemed almost human-sized in comparison to the Monk. The monk was easily fifteen feet tall but the diminutive figure that it threatened stood its ground. A Jump capable Demon armor hybrid perhaps? I knew they were developing one but heard they were still years away from a working prototype. It didn’t even seem large enough to hold a reactor.

Jeremy made good with the opportunity, moving towards the corner and away from the Demon. For a moment the status-quo held. The just as Jeremy almost made the corner, the Monk turned and re-aimed the autocannon. Before it could fire the newcomer moved sideways to block its line of fire with an agility that would have made a Demon squad-commander proud.

That’s when I saw what it was for the first time and realized it wasn’t a jump-capable Demon at all. It was an Angel.

I had seen images from aerial shots of Angels, but they always seemed huge and blurry. Now up close, even with the extended thrusters at the feet, I wondered if the top of its head would have come to my chin. It might have a more powerful reactor than the Monk, but it didn’t have any visible weapons and from what I knew was probably unarmed. The monk simply outmassed and outgunned it. If the Monk pilot opened fire, it wasn’t going to be much of fight.

I should have run then, taken the opportunity to leave while I could but something held me back. Whatever the angel was, it was covering Jeremy’s escape so I remained crouched and covered it with the M-37. The deadlock held for a few more seconds and Jeremy made it around the corner.

I prepared to move back into the alleyway. The immediate threat passed, we could all withdraw now without the shooting. That’s how it should have happened anyway.

But if there’s one thing you learn in the military, things never go as they should. The forty millimeter autocannon must have been loaded with a combination of HE and armor piercing rounds because they ripped up everything they touched. Concrete and roadside structures evaporated in a cloud of debris. Within the cloud I saw a bright flash as a direct hit blew the Angel away. The chassis itself just disappeared into the smoke and dust.

I squeezed the trigger.

The M-37 cycled charge from the milcap through the firing circuit and onto the gas capsule at the end of the two millimeter copper pellet. The energy pretty much melts the copper pellet but that doesn’t stop it flying down the barrel at ten times the speed of sound. It can do that over a hundred times a second depending on its burst rate.

The guard who lay dead on the ambulance windscreen had discovered the hard way that a two millimeter plasma rifle doesn’t work so well against ablative armor.

However it does cut exceptionally well through weather-seal and thin, hard armor like you find on the back of a Monk.

The burst of bi-hyper-velocity shells blew straight through the hard armor and ripped the back of the Monk’s knee out from under it. It shuddered and began to fall onto the damaged limb for a moment before the failing joint locked, halting the collapse. The pilot possibly had no idea what was happening yet, still in the midst of the damage his own shooting had caused around him. I needed to finish him before he realized he still had the upper hand.

Flicking the selector to manual burst control, a quick re-aim and an extended burst ripped into the Demon’s other leg. This time the joint disintegrated under the impact of nearly a hundred closely-spaced impacts. That’s the kind of damage that fail-safes can’t cope with. The huge armored gun-platform fell hard onto the shattered concrete beneath it as the balance system failed to compensate for the loss of support.

Demon’s are highly effective for keeping pilots safe against small-arms fire during assaults, but they’re not invulnerable to modern infantry weapons. If you know where to aim, a plasma rifle has sufficient penetration and impact to damage them. Despite the damage, the Monk still wasn’t disabled and the pilot wasn’t about to give up yet.

The autocannon swung around in a wide arc, firing as it went. Several shells impacted the wall, ripping through the building I was using for cover and coming uncomfortably close. Then the pilot found his target and the continued barrage ripped into the ambulance, tearing it apart like an empty can. I felt the pressure smash into me as the ethanol tank went up in a deafening roar. Then the intense heat washed over me as the fireball sucked the air around it inwards.

Cover wasn’t going to do much now. I stepped out and walked towards the Monk as it tipped over, Its own weapon recoil too much to cope with while the gyroscopes struggled to keep it upright. The badly damaged leg was bent at an unusual and broke, sending it to the ground.

The large machine was down now and the pilot knew I was coming. He struggled to use the autocannon to lift himself up, but the huge metal pipe bent slightly at the very tip.

By this stage I was behind the downed colossus and closing the distance between us quickly. I couldn’t recall this model having much more than an autocannon, but it paid to be careful. I kept a safe distance behind it.

Re-aiming the plasma rifle, I fired four more carefully aimed bursts using most of the remaining ammunition. One hundred more copper pellets ripped into sections I knew were vulnerable. The bursts each ripped into the the armor protecting the cooling systems. Some of them found their way into high pressure pipes that held liquid gas and the fluid vented wildly into the atmosphere.

The reaction thrust of the sudden outburst blew the demon forward, pushing it down. I knew my shots had struck home. Did its pilot realize that yet or was he still going to fight? Demons might have been built for the battlefield but it wasn’t common to let an opponent get behind you where you’re armor is the thinnest. You’re also not likely to face an opponent who knows your specific weaknesses and to lose all your cooling systems. He didn’t get to decide. With all four cooling system inoperable, the Monk went into immediate shutdown.

Lowering the rifle, I moved in a wide arc around the back of the Monk so as to keep behind it and on the far side of the weapon which had ripped the ambulance apart. As I walked through the smoke and dust, I passed by a torn and broken figure that was pulling itself along the ground.

The remains of the Angel that had intervened earlier.

I didn’t have the time to take a close look at the damaged Angel. My attention was still on the Monk. Even if the Demon was down, the pilot could still be armed when he came out.

I tried not to think of the vaguely feminine-shaped Angel as I stepped over it, but it was difficult to ignore. It looked as though someone had made a statue out of titanium in the shape of a woman and then covered it with body armor. Except that this particular statue was now struggling to pull itself away with its hands. One leg was missing and the other twisted and badly torn. The same voice I had heard earlier, still androgynous but now sounding in pain called out quietly from lips that didn’t move.

“Help me, please.”

I didn’t have time to help yet. I still had a Demon pilot to deal with.

Walking away from the broken Angel, I heard the crack of the seals opening as I approached from the Demon. The autocannon dropped slowly to rest as the breach seals closed, fail-safes disarming the weapon.

The chassis rolled sideways slightly as the capsule opened and I realized how large the Monk was for the first time. Even downed, it towered more than three feet above me. The cockpit access opened up, pushing the machine back and throwing the pilot forward until arrested in his fall by the harness and by his legs still trapped inside the machine. I stepped around and leveled the plasma rifle at his chest. He wasn’t quite aware of what was going on and seemed to be surprised when he saw me standing there. The M-37 was still covered with the blood of his first victim.

“I don’t think you want to be moving,” I warned him.

I think I was expecting a Chinese pilot to look up at me, but the pilot turned his head and grinned. Behind a slightly bloodied neurohelmet interface that covered tanned skin and tattoos was a face that looked all too American. He was a mercenary.

“How did you take me down?” he asked.

“I don’t think you want to be talking either.”

I was angry and could feel my finger tightening on the trigger. He seemed far too calm about this, given he had just killed someone and I was holding a weapon on him. I watched as the pilot tilted his head and listened to the fading sounds of conflict elsewhere. He pulled his helmet free and let it fall to the ground. I shifted the rifle in my grip to let him know I was serious.

Amidst the dim sounds of distant fighting, the quiet cry for help came once again from the broken metal angel I had passed moments earlier. That and the grating sound of metal on concrete as it pulled itself along, trying to move away. I wondered if the explosion had damaged its AI. From somewhere closer, I could hear the sounds of police sirens mixed with the alarms from nearby buildings.

“If you were going to shoot me, you already would have,” said the pilot, shrugging but making no further move to extricate himself from the still-fastened webbing. He might have been affected by neurological issues, but I don’t think the early Demons caused as many problems with resynchronization. They didn’t have a lot of feedback and suffered greatly in combat from it, but at least you could run from a downed machine. If you weren’t trapped in it.

“It could be worth your while to help me get out of here,” he said quietly, locking eyes with mine, unblinking and unwavering.

I didn’t respond as I viewed him through the gunsight. It wasn’t something I was willing to consider. The sound of sirens grew louder and the sound of distant gunfire momentarily increased in intensity. I glanced back towards the shredded ambulance with just my eyes. Flames still licked at the ground around it and a thick black smoke rose high into the air above it.

What was left of the security guard had probably already been cremated in the ethanol-fuelled flames. Poor guy probably had no idea today would be his last. Nobody expects Demons to attack in an American city. He was just doing his job and this mercenary killed him for it. Thinking about it only made angry. No one would judge me for killing his murderer. I know he deserves it.

The change in pressure from the trigger told me the trigger was now up against the electronic sear. Just a little more pressure and the Copper-Beryllium barrel would deliver ten twelve-hundred joule pellets point blank, as the armory Sergeant used to say. Standing here, wondering what I needed to do next, it’s strange what I remembered.

The Sergeant who trained me told me these two millimeter slugs weigh one twentieth of what an old twenty-first century NATO round weighed, but they travel much faster. Once ignited, they surf a wave of plasma down a magnetically contained barrel with lithium-beryllium superconductor magnetic rifling.

I don’t know why they made me learn that. All I really needed to know was how many rounds I had left and I still had enough. The ammunition selector was yellow but it wasn’t red yet and I only had one target. Perhaps this Monk’s pilot knew that too, because he was starting to sweat as I stood there.

“Are you going to talk to me?” asked the pilot. His voice was devoid of the cool edge it had when he first came out.

“Just stay quiet and still and nothing’s going to go badly,” I threatened.

“And end up being interrogated? I think I’d prefer you to shoot me.”

“I think I’d prefer that too.”

His eyes opened wide.

The cry for help came once more from the Angel, but there was no scratching or grating now. It wasn’t moving. The sound of approaching vehicles and sirens was getting louder, then they stopped. They would probably be setting up a roadblock. I hoped that Jeremy was safe with them. Now it was just me and the killer in my sights.

Then I saw the first strobe flash and heard the tone I hoped to never hear.

From his expression I don’t think the pilot expected that. If I hadn’t been a tinskin myself, I wouldn’t have understood but when the siren and strobes go off, only one thing is going to happen. Tokamak catastrophic failure.

Whatever threat the M-37 had been, it meant nothing next to a Tokamac failure. I heard the pilot screaming at me for help as he fumbled for the lower section release of the harness. Already backing up, I wasn’t waiting around either. I’ve seen tokamak failures on the battlefield before. It’s not something I wanted to be near when it happened.

“Help me, I’ll talk,” screamed the pilot to my back, but I was already running.

I know the Tokamak wasn’t damaged. I knew exactly where I hit the cooling pods. The Tokamaks were protected by the heaviest armor and even if they did start to fail, they usually didn’t fail catastrophically. If the stobe went off in a failsafe condition, then it was either a freak situation or somebody had triggered it as a last-stand mechanism and I don’t think it was the pilot who did it.

Weapons systems and controls came back online as the fail-safe overrides failed and the suit went into modes it was never expected to survive. The pilot might have been able to fight briefly but he had other concerns. I made it perhaps halfway to the corner when I heard the angel cry out one more time.

I don’t think any other word would have had the effect these did, but they stopped me in my tracks.

“Run.”

The angel was too close to the Monk to survive the blast when the nuclear power source went supercritical. It obviously knew what was happening. Why wasn’t it asking for help anymore?

Ripping the copper pellet feed clip from the M-37, I pushed the clip into my pocket and discarded the weapon as I ran towards the Angel. It put a hand out to push me away as I reached down, but it served as a point to grab on to and haul it away. It was light. Lighter than I expected. I could get us both clear.

“Leave, Run” its voice begged. I looked down through a crack in the faceplate armor and thought I saw lips that moved slightly. Metal lips I thought were fixed.

I stopped pulling and lifted the damaged body to my chest, cradling it to me. Its armor fell away as the arms, undamaged, moved around my neck and back, pulling me in. It felt like I was being trapped, then I found it easier to run as our combined center of gravity moved close to my chest.

The armor that covered the face fell away and I saw it looking at me. Dark eyes reflecting an obsidian image of the world looked back at me from titanium skin, then the head pulled in close to my chest.

Holding it tighly, I ran around the corner, heading towards where I hoped safety was.

My legs felt heavy and my chest hurt. I could feel my own heart pounding with exertion. Somewhere behind I could still hear the Monk pilot screaming, “ Help me you bastard, I’ll talk.”

I kept on going. Even if I wasn’t going to kill him, there wasn’t any way I could safely save him without risking my own life. Up ahead, I saw the police roadblock and three vehicles. They raised an anti-armor rifle in my direction before someone pushed it back down. Jeremy was there, pointing in my direction, yelling something I couldn’t make out.

There were perhaps about a dozen people surrounding them and the hypervid crew were in the process of setting up hyvid cameras. When I yelled, several journalists pointed microcams in my direction.

All I could manage from my tortured lungs as I fled were three words.

“To-ka-mak,” I screamed.

It wasn’t much but anyone with military experience would get the message.

The monk’s Tokamak explosion wasn’t going to be on a thermonuclear scale, but within the tight city streets, it would be devastating. If a last stand protocol had engaged, then it would feed fuel directly into the reaction until the containment breached. That made for one heck of an explosion. The police must have understood because they started moving people into vehicles as I ran. One of the police vehicles, another ambulance, waited. Jeremy jumped into it and held the back doors open for me, beckoning me forward.

My muscles were on fire now but it was so close. I wrapped my arms around the Angel and forced my sluggish, tortured muscles to respond. Dodging around the roadblock and the abandoned anti-armor rifle, I threw myself, Angel attached, through the rear door of the ambulance. We both came down in a tangle and skittered across the floor until we hit the end and bounced off. Even before we came to a stop, I felt the ambulance accelerate. Jeremy pulled the door closed behind us.

The angel moved once more then, spreading the fingers of its small hand over the back of my skull. The other arm shifted around my back and held me tightly. It looked up at me briefly then held me down to its chest. I gasped for air as the arms crushed me slightly, still desperate for oxygen after my run. I thought I was going to pass out as the angel held me firm. Then I somehow managed to take in a lungful as it released the pressure just a little and froze.

Bright light flashed through the rear window of the ambulance. A shockwave hit, lifting the vehicle up and tossing it. I felt myself falling through space and banging into things but the Angel seemed to be covering me like a suit of living armor. Its arms closed more tightly. An impact shuddered through my body.

We stayed like that for what seemed like several seconds before an absolute blackness replaced the blinding light.

* * * *

Chapter 7 - Turing Evolved.

Opening my eyes to a small room while laying in a bed let me know where I was. I had a dark blue swelling on one arm and my legs hurt to move them.

Two hours in the medscanner determining that I didn’t have a concussion was followed by four more hours with the police debriefing me on what I knew.

They dodged my questions about why a Monk was there in the first place and were vague about the gunfire I had heard. Still, it didn’t stop them going through everything twice to make sure I hadn’t missed any details. I guessed they already have surveillance video of the fight because they didn’t question my version of events, though they did want to know what an ex-operative was doing in the area.

I don’t think they located the remains of the pilot, because both a human and an AI agent made a sketch from my description. I’d have felt sorry for him if I didn’t see what he did to that guard.

By the time they were ready to release me, it was near midnight. One of the officers was heading in my direction at the end of his shift and took me home.

As put out as I was, I reminded myself that I was the lucky one. The security guard wasn’t going home and he wouldn’t have been the only one. The sounds of other firefights told me there would have been other casualties.

Jeremy wasn’t so lucky either. He managed to break a leg and would spend several hours in surgery under reconstruction. That meant an overnight stay. Longer if triage was full of more serious casualties.

I was warned against trying to find out more about what happened in case they needed to interview me again, but it’s difficult to avoid news reports after something like that happens. The short clip of me running along the street with a broken Angel clinging to my chest was on all the news channels, repeated frequently.

So what had happened?

After watching twenty minutes of commercial channel coverage, it seemed that there wasn’t much chance I was going to find out tonight. Details were disappearing from coverage with each repetition as parts of it were censored. With nothing else to do, I went to sleep early. The ambulance was destroyed and I wasn’t even sure if I’d have a job in the morning.

#

It was still early when I arrived at the Samaritan’s depot the next morning, just barely past 6am. There was no one in the loading dock but the staff entrance was available. The briefing room and staging area was empty too. It had been a day since I checked on my patient, so I walked into the ward and gave Peter a visit. I should make sure he didn’t think I had deserted him.

He was already awake when I walked in and looked over at me from the bed. From the sensors attached to his arms, I guessed he was still paralyzed but he had movement in his neck already. It looked like his nervous system was rebuilding itself from the implant down.

“Good morning Peter,” I said as I walked around the far side of his bed, “I hope I’m not intruding.”

Peter shook his head gently. That was a good sign, even if his other limbs were restrained and anaesthetized.

“No, it’s nice to see you this morning. I didn’t think you would come in,” he said.

“I told you I’d be available until you recover,” I said, somewhat hurt that he hadn’t trusted me.

“I saw the news, it’s on now,” Peter said as his eyes flicked up to the hypervid screen overhead. I moved around nearer where he was laying so I could see.

The screen held a blurry image of an Angel and someone carrying it as they ran for an Ambulance. The vehicle the shot was taken from was already moving away from the intersection at the time. Just a series of still images, enhanced and adjusted by artists. They clearly weren’t ready for the shot when they saw me. It looked like it was all precapture. I couldn’t hear the sound from the broadcast, so I moved closer to the audio zone near Peter’s head.

“With the unknown charity worker who raised the alarm just moments before the explosion destroyed several city blocks,” I heard the newscaster AI say.

“The Angel seems much smaller and lighter, that others we’ve previously seen,” said another newscaster. Probably a human talking from the sound of it.

I moved out of the audio zone and the sound vanished.

“Can you quiet it for me,” asked Peter, glancing over. I leaned forward and tapped the mute, hearing only the word “Samaritan,” before the audio zone was cut.

“You’re quite the hero this morning,” Peter said.

“Not by choice,” I said.

“We all have a choice and you made yours”

I didn’t dispute him. I don’t trust in my choices anymore. It was easier to change the subject.

“How are you coming along?” I asked.

“I’m only just resyncing but the nurse tells me I might have a serious issue with the implant failing to re-align nervous control,” Peter said.

I should have read his chart, but it seemed rude since he was already awake and I could ask him. I considered what he told me and the implications it had for him. If he had neurological misalignment it would be serious. The implants would have to be removed or shutdown. He’d never be able to immerse in Mindspace again.

“Let’s hope you’re all right then,” I said.

“I wanted to ask,” Peter said, then paused.

“Go on,” I prompted.

“Did my gift come out of the network all right?”

My hand went instinctively to my pocket, but came out empty. All the places I had been recently ran through my mind.

The last time I recall it being in my pocket was just before Jeremy went chasing Angels. I couldn’t recall seeing it since then and don’t remember seeing it when I collected my things at the hospital.

I wondered briefly if someone had taken it while I was unconscious. Given it was quite valuable, it seemed a reasonable enough assumption. After all, Items like that didn’t just fall out of self-sealing pockets.

But even if I had lost something valuable, I wondered at Peter’s loss. What was in that parcel it held?

“Peter, I’m sorry, I think someone’s taken it.”

Peter slowly looked away from me.

“It’s all right, you’ve been through a lot,” he said.

There was a pain in his eyes that his words weren’t admitting. I had lost the only thing he still cared about in the world.

“I’ll call the hospital and see if they can locate it. Perhaps the police took it from the scene?”

“No really, it’s all right. It was wrong of me to impose on you. I’m grateful for what you did,” he said quietly, then added, “It’s all right, Jon, I’ll pay you for your loss.”

I felt uneasiness at my own carelessness settle into my stomach where it rolled about.

“Just give me a moment. I’ll see what I can do to track it down.”

He didn’t say anything as I left. I didn’t have a cellphone anymore since my own had been in the ambulance when it was hit by the Demon. There was a group phone in the briefing room though. When I walked in, Steven Littlewood was there with another man in a suit that I didn’t recognize. Both were intently watching a hypervid screen.

I didn’t need to look to know what they were watching. The moment I walked through the door and he saw me, his eyes widened. He tapped the suited man on the shoulder who looked at Steven and then at me.

“Jon, come in. I didn’t expect you here today, are you all right?” Steven asked.

“A little sore,” I said.

“Look, if you need some time off, to take a few days to get over it, that’s fine,” Steven said.

The man in the suit nodded also, then stood forward and offered me his hand.

“Laurence Gibson,” he said, waiting for me to shake it. The same voice I had heard talking to Jeremy the day before.

I reached out and shook his hand, realizing I was standing before the boss. At least I was in early today.

“Your ambulance is ruined so we can’t send you out on any calls. We won’t get a new cot for a few days either,” Steven said.

“Although sometime, I would like to talk to you about what happened,” Laurence Gibson added to that.

What did the director of the Samaritans want to discuss with me? I assumed it had something to do with the hypervids and the Angel. That and the fact I was wearing a Samaritan’s uniform which even at the distance the video was taken was distinctive. I guessed he would let me know when that time was.

“Certainly mister Gibson,” I looked at Steven, “Do you know how Jeremy is?”

“Out of surgery at four thirty this morning. He’ll need a half day in recovery before they discharge him.” Steven said. “He has a broken leg.”

“I just came in to use the phone. I can go somewhere else if you like?” I said.

“No, we’re done here,” said Gibson. “It was nice meeting you, Jon.”

Steven nodded and followed him from the briefing room. I rang the hospital and was surprised when a human face appeared on the screen.

“Hello, St Matthews”

“Hi, I’m Jonathan Carlson, I was in yesterday following the accident and lost something. Is it possible to see if anyone found an Exastore unit?”

“Do you know your patient number?” they asked.

“I, well, no, I was just in there yesterday though, after the accident with the Demon?” I explained.

“I’m sorry, we processed quite a few people yesterday,” said the lady onscreen.

“I came in from an ambulance that was hit by a shockwave,” I explained, then I saw the face on the screen change with recognition. Probably some on-screen prompt had just appeared.

“Yes, Mister Carlson, I recognize you now. What was it you thought you lost?” she asked.

I could see she was using some kind of keyboard without looking down as she spoke.

“An Exastore storage unit, about so big,” I held up my hands to mask off the approximate size.

An image of my belongings appeared on the ten-inch screen of the phone.

“This is everything you came in with before you went into the medscanner. Sir, is it one of these items?” she asked.

“No,” I said. I could see it wasn’t there.

“Did you receive it after you came out of the scanner?” she asked.

“No, it was definitely with me when I came to you. Could it have fallen out in the ambulance?” I asked.

Her face told me she didn’t think it would have been missed. At least by the police if not the cleanup crew.

“I can ask the police to contact you if they locate anything,” she offered.

“Ahh, thankyou, yes if you could,” I asked.

She looked thoughtful for a moment. Something else she could see on her screen that she was reading no doubt.

“You were unconscious when you arrived. I believe some journalists pulled you from the wreckage before the replacement ambulance arrived and the police took all their equipment. Perhaps you could check with them? The studio should be able to help you locate them.”

I didn’t know about what happened with the journalists after the crash. If the police took their equipment, then the stations would only have the live precap after all. But the exastore was a bigger concern. Had a journalist taken the exastore, perhaps hoping to find something to lead them to a bigger story?

I thanked the hospital concierge, disconnected the call and made my way back to the office wards. I only wished that I had better news for Peter. His face changed as soon as I walked in and went from hope to depair in three seconds when I didn’t say anything.

I stayed a little while, talking him to then. It was uncomfortable but I owed it to him. At least I felt I did.

“Ahh, Jon?” came Steven’s voice quietly from the doorway. He must have realized I was still here and come looking for me.

“In here,” I called, hearing the tap-tap sound of someone approaching.

“Jon, I think there’s someone here to see you, I think.” Steven called quietly.

“I don’t mind if you want to leave,” said Peter.

I didn’t feel like leaving at the moment. It seemed too easy a choice to make.

“Send them in,” I called quietly back.

Whoever it was must have heard because the tapping came closer and then past the door. In the dim light of the ward, with only a shadow visible, it appeared as though a young woman had just walked in. The tapping must have come from her heels. There was something large in her hands that I couldn’t quite make out, cradled over one arm while being held in the other. She had some kind of cap on that covered her head and gave it an almost rounded appearance, except for regular seams.

She stopped for a moment in the shadows, looked around and saw me sitting in the reflected light of the hypervid screen. She paused for a moment and I stood up to receive them. It was probably rude of me to ask them to enter while I was with a patient, but at the moment I didn’t want to give up my guilt for losing the Exastore.

At first I thought the face was heavily made up in the darkness, then realized as she stepped closer that the curves of her face were too perfect, too smooth. Light reflected softly from the matt polished titanium surfaces and I made out enough to guess who had come to visit. Peter must have seen her too and more so recognized her because his eyes opened widely as he looked up at her.

“Rachel,” Peter said, straining to lift his neck momentarily.

The Angel walked into the light and I saw her clearly for the first time, wondering if this was another like the one I saved. It turned to look down at him and smiled, actually moved her lips slightly, then held a large bundle of arranged flowers up for him to see.

“Thankyou,” said Peter, smiling back at her. “They’re very nice.”

She pushed them in my direction and waited for me to take them. Not knowing what else to do, I placed them in the water jug near the bed since it wasn’t as though Peter could use it yet anyway. I had just started to turn back around when she grabbed my arm, tilted forward and lifted herself up on her toes to kiss me lightly on the cheek, her cool metal lips pressed against my jawbone. She dropped back to her heels as I slowly lifted my hand to the side of my face and touched the spot. The feeling where she had brushed my skin was slowly fading away.

“Thankyou, I guess,” I said slowly, not sure what else to say.

“I think she’s grateful for your saving her,” Peter said, looking at me now. “Angel’s don’t bestow their kisses lightly.”

The Angel I saved? I took another look and realized she looked entirely different from yesterday. Far more feminine and shaped than the lightly armored android I had lifted from the street. She had legs too - undamaged ones. She must have been repaired already.

“You know each other?” I asked.

Peter nodded

“Rachel’s an Angel, Jon. I worked at Arilssman on the Angel project,” he explained.

“I thought you said you worked on the Mindspace implants?” I said, remembering his earlier words.

“Mindspace and the Angels both came from the same project,” Peter said.

“So she’s an AI?” I asked.

“She’s as real as you are,” said Peter, “Not just an AI in the sense you’re familiar with, but a completely autonomous being,” Peter started to explain when Rachel stepped forward and flipped the sheet from over his arm.

His arms were held fast with a wide restraining strap. Rachel looked confused, looking to Peter then to me as she touched his arm where it was bound solidly to the bedframe.

“He’s not in control of his limbs yet. The straps prevent him from hurting himself accidentally if the anesthetic wears off,” I explained.

Apparently not satisfied with my explanation, she looked down at Peter who nodded. “It’s necessary for the moment. I’m not being held captive.”

Rachel smiled slightly at that but didn’t say anything. She hadn’t said anything at all so far and I started to wonder why. I knew she could speak because I had heard her before.

“They seem to have fixed you up very quickly,” Peter said, craning his head over. “Is it comfortable?”

Comfortable he had asked. I wondered why an Angel, an android, would need to feel comfortable. She nodded twice, very small nods, then spun herself around on the spot, moving herself into different positions as if she was showing him a new dress she had just put on. Her appearance was far more feminine that I recalled from my first encounter and the armor was gone. It looked like her new fitout had been designed by a fetish artist.

And just how did she move like that? I’ve seen humans move with less grace and even the best Demon pilots with neuro-implants can’t quite control a Demon like that. Not without destroying everything around them anyway.

“Your legs appeared damaged in the video,” Peter said, “Did they replace them with the new models?”

Rachel seemed to smile again and tilted her head. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but Peter seemed to understand the gesture. I felt suddenly uncomfortable as if I wasn’t supposed to be here. I walked slowly towards the door as I spoke.

“You two look like you have some catching up to do. I’m glad you have some friends out here,” I said.

I made it to the end of the bed before Rachel ran after me, several small steps, and grabbed my arm gently. It wasn’t enough to stop me, but was enough to let me know she wanted me to stay.

“I don’t think she wants you to go,” Peter re-affirmed.

Rachel shook her hear slowly, twice, then reached out and took my hand, leading me gently back to the bedside. Given that she could probably crush bolts with those fingers, her touch was remarkably light and only strong enough so that she would grip the skin. She must have had some seriously sensitive transducers under the metal surface. Demons could feel things too, but I wouldn’t want to be grabbed by a Demon. I was also starting to notice how flexible her face seemed now. Despite the appearance of a single plate of metal, it could actually deform somewhat to give it expression.

“They repaired you very quickly,” I said, remembering the extent of the damage that had been done to the Angel I rescued.

She put a single finger on my chest, then lifted it before my face as if wanting me to wait, then reached down to her leg. Attached to the side, I now saw a small garter-like object. There was a slight tearing sound and it came free in her hand, then she pushed her metal finger and thumb into the edge like it was some kind of smart pocket. What came out between her fingers was a small rectangular box, slightly smaller than my ID card with the word Exastore on it. Looking at me, she placed the Exastore on the palm of her other hand and then held it out towards me.

“Is that mine?” I asked.

She pushed her hand towards me another inch as if to indicate it was. I took if from her and looked at it closely. There was a crack in the side where it had been crushed slightly, so I wondered if it was still working.

“Thank you,” I said to her as she stepped back, standing with both hands behind her.

I turned to Peter and held the box up.

“I’ll ask Jeremy to check it tomorrow when he comes in,” I said,

“What is that?” Peter asked.

“The parcel of yours that I thought I had lost,” I said, seeing his face brighten a little, then looked back at Rachel.

“How did you come by it?” I asked her.

She gave me a slightly lopsided expression as if she couldn’t tell me and looked at Peter.

“She won’t answer you,” Peter said.

“Why not?” I asked.

Was there some strange form of code amongst Angels that they didn’t speak to humans?

“She doesn’t have a voice here,” Peter said quietly.

I looked at her and her facial plate warped slightly to make it look like a smile.

“But I heard her, before, with the Demon,” I protested.

“Demon?” asked Peter, briefly looking at Rachel, “Well she can synthesize words, but it’s not her voice. This is her personal time so she chooses not to speak rather than allow something else to speak for her.”

Peter looked at me then. “Was the Demon involved? Is that what happened to her legs?”

“A Chinese made Monk,” I said quietly. I recalled the Police asking me not to discuss this issue, but then I hadn’t realized Peter and the Angel knew each other. She had as much knowledge of what had transpired as I did.

“And Jon rescued you?” Peter asked the Angel.

Rachel stepped up to me and grabbed my arm then hugged it as she looked at him. The move elicited a raised eyebrow from Peter.

“Yeah, actually, she kind of rescued me and Jeremy. If she hadn’t intervened, I’m pretty sure I’d have gone the same way as the security guard they killed.”

I hadn’t really saved her at all. What risk is there when all you have to do is run from the danger?

“She seems to like you,” Peter said.

That just sounded weird. How can an AI like someone? Even if they are an advanced program, they’re not really any more than that. They could be programmed to act like they liked you and even told what circumstances they should make that decision under. But despite the technology that went into an AI, they were little more than advanced programs. We were briefed on the dangers of anthropomorphizing them in the unit.

“That’s some pretty clever programming there then,” I said, watching the way she moved and responded.

At the mention of program, Rachel’s head snapped around towards me and her face contorted into something resembling hurt. She dropped my arm, stepped back, took one look from me to Peter, then ran from the room. I looked to Peter to see complete shock on his face.

“How could you say that to her?” he accused.

Something in the way Peter said it made me think of Rachel as human for a moment and I realized the implicit insult in my words. Reacting to her departure, I felt compelled to go after her. I ran from the room, out through the wards, knocking aside a trolley that had been in my way. Up ahead I could see Rachel already through the wards and nearing the front entrance.

Despite being an android, she was able to move fluidly around the obstacles between her and the exit while I, even being human, managed to hit every one. Finally she stopped, just outside of the doors and wrapped her arms around her chest, lifting herself up on her toes. Waiting there.

I came running out through the front doors and approached her from behind. Not too close, unsure if she had a programming glitch that caused her to act the way she did. What do you say to an android that you’ve just offended? Even if it is an Angel? I felt confused by the sudden turn of events and had no idea what to do next.

“Rachel, I’m sorry,” I said from behind. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

She looked over her shoulder at me and I’m sure I saw a mixture of hurt and anger. How could a single polished piece of titanium warp so far to show so many emotions? Or was I just anthropomorphizing and android more that I should be? After all, that’s all she really was. A nuclear powered forty five megawatt android.

In the shape of an Angel.

A whine started to emanate from her, building up slowly as air blew out from vents under her heel, disturbing the dust on the ground around her. It was another sound I knew from my past. In many ways, it felt like I still hadn’t managed to get away from it.

“Wait, don’t go,” I called out to her.

The pitch and volume of the sound increased until I could only hear a rush of air, then it crackled and blue flame shot from the bottom of her heels.

“Please, Rachel, I’m sorry.”

It doesn’t take much to drive a pre-charged plasma thruster into jet mode and I knew how light she was. One moment she was there, then the next I felt the blast wave move across me, pressing my clothing into my chest as she simply fell upwards faster than my eye could follow. I took five more steps until I was standing where she had been and looked up. She was gone.

* * * *

Chapter 8 - Alone in Heaven

Where do Angels go when they want to be away from you? Where do they go when they want to be alone?

Rachel’s last look still haunted me as I ambled back to my apartment. Artificial minds can’t feel emotions or hurt. They can’t feel pain as we do. But whoever built her did one heck of a job making sure everyone who met her would be fooled.

I couldn’t face Peter again after that. I felt stupid, embarrassed by something I knew I shouldn’t be. I had no idea there was a connection between him and the Angel. Why was it even there? Was she behind the mysterious woman I encountered after his eviction? It almost seemed to make sense. Peter worked in the premier research and development facility at the time. He had access to far more advanced technologies and AIs than existed anywhere else in the world. Then he found a wife that he could only be with online. That he could only exist with, in the virtual.

The Wife he spoke of must have been an AI.

Peter did what every geek who ever existed wanted to do. He married his computer. Now he thought the programs he lived with were real. Computers looked real and felt real enough when you were inside them. They felt like you actually were somewhere else. Yet every moment you spent in their artificial world, it was only your mind that was somewhere else.

I don’t know why the encounter with the Angel affected me the way it did. It took my thoughts back to my former life. Up until that moment I had it all locked down, hidden away inside. Now my past was opened once again and the memories came back unbidden. Thoughts of a time, back when I didn’t need to make a new start or find work to put my implants to good use. I had everything a newly graduated guy wanted. A pretty girl and a good career. Defense-force housing and best of all, I got to pilot Demons. Sometimes I miss them most of all.

Not all pilots get to fly Demons. Most go off to haptically-enhanced aircraft or groundcraft operations. I was lucky. The day after they implanted me the tests showed a clean synchronization with the military interface systems. The operation went perfectly and I had complete sensory cutover, full haptics and optimal feedback circuits. They were looking to train a new unit of Demon pilots right about then too.

It’s like a dream. You start a job thinking maybe you can become a pilot or a driver someday. Then they take you straight from the hospital ward and tell you they have something better. The new Simian chassis were state-of-the-art. Four and a half megawatts of armored suit with a neurological interface so advanced that you become the vehicle. The world shrinks as you find you can sprint at the speed of a small car and run straight through light buildings.

Twenty Simians were initially assigned to Unit three. Three pilots per Simian, but I had my own because my squad was being trained for dual-operations. I still remember the rush of the Taiwan conflict airdrops. Simian’s can’t fly like Angels, but they can have modular plasma drop-jets and they descend freefall on them. Or hover briefly or maybe jump a little.

And then it all fell apart during that virtual training exercise.

Fuck them. Fuck them all for what they did.

In the end, I was the only one to be punished.

Opening my eyes, the only thought that came to mind was how did I get to be standing in front of the hypervid-vend, looking at myself like I was standing in front of a mirror? I looked at the other me, on the other side of the hypervid screen. There was the hero I wanted to be. There was the man who destroys Demons with his bare hands and rescues Angels in distress.

But the man I wanted to be wasn’t me. I just happened to be rescued by an angel and it… she… Rachel just happened to be conveniently placed as I ran like a coward when the real danger struck. The hero learned a long time ago that there was a price to pay for doing what was right and even if the price is too high, I keep making that same mistake over and over again.

Hypervid heroes don’t seem to have that problem.

I studied the image in front of me on the screen. He looked like he had been hyvidshopped to look like me. I certainly don’t recall the expression on my face being there at the time. Neither do I recall the angel looking up at me like that as I ran with it cradled to my chest. There was some useful text with the news. News of the Demon was starting to leak through, though they called it a Panda. It looked a little like a Panda but the Panda doesn’t have the sensor array and doesn’t carry an autocannon.

I reached down and wiped my employee card against the purchase slot and a single plastic circuit sheet about ten inches by seven shot out the bottom. It crackled with electrostatic charge as I picked it up and watched the image I had seen earlier. The one they made look like me. The image distorted as I screwed it up in my hand then slowly released it. Then not quite sure what else to do, I pushed it into my pocket, stuffing it in until it didn’t show anymore.

Trying to get my bearings, I realized I couldn’t see any familiar landmarks. It took me a while walking back along the way I’d come before I recognized my surroundings and made my way home. Why did I feel so angry at myself? The morning started out well enough and now all the pains of the last year seemed to be rushing back in to fill the void.

Three flights of stairs and then into the apartment. I laid on the bed and went to sleep. Even if it was still the middle of the day, that wasn’t as hard to do as I thought.

#

I felt better when I woke up. It was late-afternoon already.

I tried to justify my actions to myself. It took me a while to realize what I was angry about. Something about Rachel reminded me of all the bad things that happened with Susan, all the hurt she caused when she learned what transpired at the base that day.

I never really understood why they called them base groupies before but the lesson came home loud and clear. She lived near the base and the highest social status in the small town was afforded to Demon pilots. The news of the impending court martial was trouble enough. Bad news travels quicker than light through negative-refractive-index-fiber in a place like that.

She was waiting for me when I got back to my on-base couples-housing. The stigma of the court martial alone had left her an outcast amongst her peers. She had become a pariah amongst the wives and girlfriends of the other Demon pilots. Being talked about and not in a way she enjoyed. At first I thought the mascara stains were for me, that she had heard of my pain and her tears had been in sympathy. I really could have used some sympathy that day.

She knew what had happened, but I was foolish for thinking she understood. She physically attacked me as I entered, slapped me and worse, but nothing that would leave a permanent scar, at least not physically. She stood over me as I lay there retching on the floor, demanding to know how I could have done that to her. How could I have made a formal complaint against the section commander - her best friend’s husband?

That was the last time she spoke to me. She didn’t return my calls and her friends didn’t know where she was, or so they said if they didn’t hang the call straight away. It didn’t take her long to get on with her life. As if to deliberately add insult to injury, it was my replacement she had moved in with. The same day the court martial found nothing to charge me. The base commander offered me an honorable discharge or a transfer out.

I guess she regained her social status because next time I saw her she walked straight past me without even a glance. I wished I had years to buffer the memory but it had only been months.

So did Rachel bring back the memories of Susan? Why was I recalling the pain and disgrace of being discharged? Was Rachel really anything more than an animated doll? She seemed so real when she was standing there beside me. Her response felt real. Real enough that I felt compelled to run after her.

How could I have known it was the wrong thing to say? Even if I had, why would a program be offended at what could be taken as a compliment? Was she trying to give me the impression she was more than that? I thought back to the previous day. Why had she asked me to run?

No human would have done that. Humans are selfish, only out to get what they can for themselves and it doesn’t matter if they hurt others in the process. Selfish. Like I had been by talking to her like she was just the machine that she was.

I could feel my own unease sitting in the pit of my stomach. Was it guilt and regret or just hunger? I went for another walk to clear my head and find something to eat.

Choosing a different direction this time, I found a quiet park not too distant, lined with old trees that looked like some had been here a century or longer. The edge of the park came up against a retaining wall where they had cut into the original hill long ago to put in several levels of highway. The highways weren’t heavily used anymore, not for nearly seventy years since they rebuilt the transit system, but they were still there and built to last longer still.

I sat down at the edge of the drop, flipped my legs over the ledge and held onto the barrier rail as I looked out over the city beyond. It was good to get out and see across the distances that the hill afforded me. It gave me perspective, reminded me that I needed to use it. I pulled myself closer to the rail, the cold metal feeling smooth where time had polished it.

The city had a different shape once you got above the street level. It was a harsh mix of old and new development, sprawling preformed buildings mixing with manufactured structures and even older ferrocrete forms. Technology had brought us so much but still the legacy of centuries remained, cycles measured over generations taking their toll as entropy made its inevitable progress.

I was just taking in the panorama of it all when I first realized I could hear the sound of distant plasma jets and looked to the side. There in the distance, maybe a kilometer away, hovering over a partly demolished turnpike was Rachel. Sitting there in the sky like she was watching me.

I watched back for a while, wondering if she knew I saw her. Was she watching me? Why? Was she still angry? I wondered for a moment if she might be stalking me. What could a forty five megawatt Angel do to a two-hundred watt human? Jeremy’s words came back unbidden.

But my momentary fears were overshadowed by unmitigated guilt over words I hadn’t thought through. I shouldn’t feel it but I did. For some crazy reason I felt I owed her an apology. I got up on the railing and yelled out to her.

“Rachel, I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I wasn’t thinking before I opened my mouth. I’m… I’m just sorry.”

She didn’t move. I felt stupid even as I said it. I was apologizing to a machine. I climbed up onto the next rail, my shins resting against the upper rail as I leaned forward.

“I’m sorry. What more do you want from me?”

She still didn’t move.

I leaned out as far as I could and cupped my hands around my mouth and put as much volume into it as I had. Her jets were probably too loud for her to hear anything even if she had been standing right next to me, let alone a kilometer away.

“Rachel, I’m, Sorr.”

My shoes slipped on the lower rail and I pitched forward. Out over the abyss of roadworks below.

Instinctive reactions and a will to survive worked autonomously and I felt my hand striking down onto the barrier, fingers closing. I was able to grab and hold it tightly but that didn’t stop my body. I swung down hard into the wall below.

The impact nearly made me to let go, but part of my mind continued to work even as stars danced through my vision. It kept my fingers tightly wound around the steel, refused to let me fall. Eventually, the thinking part came back and I realized I was still holding on. I looked down and regretted it. The fall was at least ninety feet, maybe more.

I craned my neck to look up at the rail. Then I swung my other hand up there and grabbed the bar next to it, hauling myself up. My muscles were tense and with every movement I could feel my own heatbeat throbbing in them. There was a rushing sound like a train too close. My hands slipped and lost some of their grip, but now my feet had some purchase on the wall beneath. I continued up and pushed myself over, landing awkwardly and hard on the concrete, the impact driving it’s agony through the back of my head once more.

I tasted blood and the rushing sound got louder. I felt my chest hurting with the effort of breathing. Something gritty was in my mouth. Then I smelled ozone. I tilted my head sideways towards the noise and she was there. Almost close enough to jump out and touch, hovering on blue jets of plasma.

I wanted to scream at her, to ask why she just waited there while I almost fell to my death. What kind of a stupid artificial intelligence was she if she stopped Demons from killing me but was happy to let gravity do it instead? When I opened my mouth, the words came out differently.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what I said.”

The jets flared briefly then went out, the noise diminishing to a rush of air. It pushed her up as if she had just jumped from an invisible platform and then she sailed the short distance to the rail and grabbed it near where I had gone over, her toes touching the top of the ledge as she swung in. Then she just vaulted over it like a gymnast and landed on the balls of her feet.

I tried to get up but pain echoed through my head, forcing me down. I crouched briefly, ignoring the sensation, then grabbed the top of the rail and pulled myself up. Then I was facing her. Rachel stepped towards me, finger outstretched until it touched my forehead. I felt a sharp pain momentarily, then saw as she pulled her finger away that it was smeared red with blood. I lifted my hand towards my head to confirm it, but saw my fingers were already covered. She moved to touch it again, but I stepped back and nearly stumbled.

“I’m all right, I’m just so sorry,” I said, then the ground tilted on me and I hit my head again on the rail.

It didn’t touch the ground this time. Rachel darted forward and grabbed me under the arms, lifting and holding me. Her eyes seemed to focus on where my forehead must have been split open. Then she pulled me up against her shoulder and walked me out of the park. I recall cars stopping, but not a lot of details about them. People offering to help, but Rachel shaking her head. I didn’t need anyone’s help anyway, but she had hold of my arm. You can’t argue with an android. They’re just too strong.

She seemed to know where I lived and led me up the stairs and into the small room, then sat me down on the bed before disappearing. My head hurt now and was throbbing. At first I thought she had left me there, then the door closed and she was back. There was a bag of ice in her hand. Where did she get that? It hurt when she pushed it against my head.

She pushed me down onto the bed and pushed the cut together with something. I think I yelled because she scowled at me. How does an android scowl? Someone has a sick sense of humor. Then she rubbed a skinclean over my head and made me take some tablets. I laid back and closed my eyes for the second time today.

I don’t remember how long.

#

I woke up with a painful headache that throbbed when I moved, but I’ve had worse. I lifted myself off the bed and looked at the clock. It was three in the morning and I was cold. I got off the bed and almost fell backwards when I saw someone in the apartment, sitting on a chair near the kitchen. As badly as my head hurt, I remembered what happened and it didn’t feel like an intruder after a few moments.

“Rachel?” I asked, gently, into the darkness.

The light switched on and I looked away but when I looked back, she was sitting there, looking at me.

“You’ve been here all along?”

Her head tilted slightly and her face had a slightly sarcastic look.

I walked into the bathroom and turned on the light. There was a thin line of dermaknits over the side of my forehead that felt a little raw to touch. I was about to go out when I saw a glass there, with water, next to two ACV1 pain killers. I took them both and wandered back into the room. Rachel was just getting up to leave.

“Wait, please, don’t go this time,” I asked quietly.

She stopped, her body reflecting the soft light from the bathroom, outlining her feminine shape.

“Do you have to be somewhere?” I asked.

She turned and shook her head gently, but she still didn’t look directly at me.

“I hurt you didn’t I?” I said.

Her eyes came up to meet mine. She didn’t need to nod.

Part of my mind was screaming at me, She’s just an android, not a person, but something else in there just wanted her to stay and push away the memory of Susan. I didn’t feel like sleeping. Not right now the ACV1s were kicking in.

“I’m sorry.” I said again.

She looked up at the ceiling and I was sure she was hurting.

“Please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

She looked back at me. I wondered what she was thinking? What could an android think?

Would she have cried if she could have? Perhaps she didn’t want to be alone tonight either, because she slowly nodded her head. At first I felt relief. The guilt and pain that I recalled through the day seemed to leave me. And then I wondered exactly what I was going to do with an android at three in the morning.

Exactly what do you do with an android at any time? I mean, it’s not like she’s a sex doll and even if I wanted something like that, I don’t think it would even be possible. Or for that matter would she even want that?

The warnings in the back of my mind were screaming at me not to further anthropomorphize the situation but, to tell the truth, I was lonely. For the first time since I had arrived here, it felt like I was with someone who really cared about me. I pulled the blanket off my bed and lifted the mattress, folding it back in until the low bed became a small couch. I struggled with it for a moment as it didn’t go back correctly, then stood back as it popped out a little. Rachel got up, walked over, adjusted it slightly and the pieces came together perfectly.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep, so I thought I might watch some vid,” I said, taking a seat.

Rachel stood there as I activated the hypervid on the far wall and expanded the size until it filled the space in front of us.

“Do you want to sit with me?” I asked.

Rachel looked down at me, then slowly moved in beside me, sat down, then lifted her legs onto the couch, her knees towards me. The light from the hypervid reflected off her metal surface and gave her a softer color. She watched the vid for a moment, then pointed as the news came on. We were on it again, but this time it looked like someone had taken several stills and stitched them together a simulated run. For some reason, my face seemed blurry even as I got close and didn’t change expression even though it moved when I yelled out that there was a tokamac about to cook off. I don’t remember saying those exact words either.

“We look strange don’t we,” I said, laughing. The sound of it brought her face around and for the first time, in the reflected light, I saw how lifelike her eyes seemed to be when she looked at me. The other chemicals in the ACV1 tablets were starting to affect me now and I felt better as well. I started talking and, well, continued since she couldn’t respond to me, telling her bits and pieces as they came to mind.

It was stories about the base and Susan at first, but as I felt better, I talked about my childhood and my childhood friends. Then I remembered how that story ended.

“I lived out in the country until I was twelve. The city was great. There was so much more to do until… until my mom died asleep at the wheel when I was fifteen.”

I closed my eyes at the memory and when they opened again, Rachel was looking straight into them. There was something in her face that didn’t need words to tell me she understood. She lifted a finger to my cheek and it came away wet.

Then I didn’t talk anymore until I felt tired again and fell asleep on the couch watching the vid.

There, beside Rachel.

#

Alarms don’t know that you don’t want to wake up. They don’t come over and take a look at you and decide you can have another half-hour. They don’t care that you’re sleeping better than you have in a while.

When the alarm went off I opened my eyes and felt the weight on my side shift. Rachel had moved up against me and her head was resting on my shoulder while her arm was stretched out along my leg.

I looked down at her for a moment then realized that although her eyes didn’t close, they had changed color and darkened. As I watched, they slowly lit up and brightened as they looked at me.

Was she actually asleep?

Her hand came back off my leg and she sat up. I just yawned.

“Wow, I think I fell asleep again,” I said, not having any idea what to say.

I felt for the cut on my head to remind myself it was there. Although it hurt, it didn’t feel too bad today. I stumbled forward off the couch and stretched myself.

“Ah, damn, I have to work,” I said.

I looked back at Rachel who had an expression on her face that looked somewhat surprised. Beyond that, I couldn’t read it.

“Look, I hate to run off, but it wouldn’t be right to be late during my first week. Umm, can you come again? I really enjoyed you being here.”

Come again? How pathetic did that sound? But it wasn’t a lie. I can’t remember exactly what we talked about, but it was nice just to let it all out. It’s amazing what you can tell someone who can’t tell anyone else. It really felt good to let it all go.

“Ah, I need to take a shower and get off to the office. Peter would probably like a visit if you’re back that way today, and, well, I get off at five.”

What was I saying? She was an android and I felt like I was trying to pick her up for another date? Another? Did that mean I thought this was the first? It felt as though my mind was arguing with itself.

“Just, well, let yourself out if you like, or you can come along for the walk if you’d prefer.”

It felt awkward as I walked off to clean up for the day. She was still sitting there, looking around the apartment with the same surprised look when I turned around.

“And, well, thankyou. For Staying. I hope I wasn’t poor company last night.”

This was getting worse. I crept into the shower and closed the door, pushing my back up against the wall. I tried to rub my hands against my forehead, but cried out a little as I pressed directly into the cut. Then the flow of water started.

She was already gone when I finished. For some reason I was a little disappointed at that, but found she had laid some clean clothes out on the bed for me and felt myself smiling.

There was a sandwich on the kitchen bench, near my pass card, crumpled vidsheet and the Exastore.

As I stared at it, I wondered about just where she had gotten the bread from.

* * * *

Chapter 9 - Best Laid Plans

The Sandwich was pretty good. It wasn’t fancy and she made it with condiment-in-a-tube, but I was hungry and I enjoyed it. I was halfway to work and thinking about Rachel when the Ambulance pulled in, so I didn’t hear it.

“Jon,” called Jeremy from the cab.

I turned around and looked at him, surprised both that I hadn’t heard him and that he was driving already. I climbed in.

“How’s the leg?” I asked and noticed the thin fiberpoxy cast.

Although it was moulded to his leg, it had catches and could be taken off in case they needed to operate again. Closing the door, I noticed the out-of-place smell of aromatic hydrocarbons hanging in the air.

“I didn’t expect you to be driving so quickly,” I said as he pulled out with his usual enthusiasm.

“Yeah., that was some ride the other day wasn’t it. I’ve been trying to find out what was going on,” he said.

“And what do you know so far?” I asked.

“A large-scale AI theft from the old Arilssman laboratories. They’ve got AIs stored for all kinds of purposes from before they banned research on them.” Jeremy said.

“They banned research on AIs?” I asked.

“Well, some kinds of research. Seems they were getting too advanced and some of wha they did was just plain sick.”

“Sick?”

“Yeah, you know, the virtual combat simulations they developed to test weapon-related injuries in combat? That kind of stuff.”

“No, I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, OK, anyway, it seems the mercs took a few pre-Asimov-compact systems and made a clean getaway. They guy we ran into was probably guarding one of their alternate escape routes”

I thought back a couple of days, recalling what happened.

“Why did they come in Monks?” I asked.

“Monks?” Jeremy questioned.

“The type of Demon they used, it’s called a Monk.”

“Oh, Yeah, well it looks like anything short of that simply wouldn’t have been able to get in. The place is laid out like a fortress and contains all kinds of autonomous defenses.”

“In the middle of the city?” I asked.

“There were no houses out that way when they built there – it was just on the outskirts and they owned a lot of land. Something happened and they sold most of it fifteen years ago.”

I was surprised by Jeremy’s sudden expertise on the subject.

“How do you know all this?” I asked.

Jeremy smiled and continued talking.

“While I was in hospital, I was speaking to this special police dude who had his arm blown off. When I was in prep and recovery. They gave him some heavy painkillers. I don’t know what they were, but they must have been good because he started talking.”

I shook my head.

“I don’t think you were supposed to be listening,” I cautioned Jeremy, but he ignored me.

“Yeah, right, so there I am laying next to this guy with a broken leg and can’t go anywhere. He just started telling me everything. Those guys think they’re hard core, well, they kind of are, but they got creamed when they responded to a heavy weapons call. Seems the Demons, what did you call them? Monkeys? Didn’t go down as easily as they thought,” Jeremy said.

“Monks,” I corrected Jeremy.

“But you took one down, right?” he said to me.

Jeremy hadn’t been there when I opened fire on the Monk. I don’t think he even saw me with the plasma rifle.

“How did you know that?” I asked.

“Some other ‘forms came in and told him. Said that a ‘civ took up a discarded weapon and took down a monk, blew its tokamac apart.” Jeremy explained.

“And then there were all those clips of the Angel you pulled out and everything on the news and now I got this shiny new ambulance.”

Jeremy smiled and patted the dash as he said it. I looked around and realized it for the first time. This entire cab looked like it had just come out of a factory showroom.

“So anyway, do you remember the crash? You were pretty out of it when they took me away,” Jeremy said.

That surprised me.

“You were awake?” I asked.

“Yeah. I was just, you know, laying there screaming with a broken fuh…freaking leg,” he said.

“So what happened to the Angel?” I asked.

“It wasn’t moving. I don’t know if they can die, but I think she was dead. Some special group came in. Did what they could for us, then cut her free, cabled her up to some machine, untangled her from you and took her body away,” he said.

“She’s not dead,” I said quietly.

“The Angel made it? Cool,” Jeremy said.

“Her name’s Rachel,” I added.

The Ambulance skidded to a stop and I was nearly thrown into the front window.

“What was that for?” I asked as I sat back down.

“Did you just say her name was Rachel?” Jeremy asked.

“Yeah why?”

“Her first name? Like you’re now on a first-name basis with an Angel?” Jeremy asked.

“Sort of. Peter seems to know her personally,” I said.

Jeremy took a moment to recover, I’m not sure what from, then started to drive again.

“Anyway, I managed to offend her somehow I think, but after she stayed over the night…” I managed to say before the brakes locked on once more.

I hit the windscreen this time and managed to bump my freshly ripped forehead on the ferroglass.

“Damn it Jeremy, that really hurt,” I said, holding my head as I sat back, “What’s gotten into you?”

Jeremy twisted in his chair to face me as other vehicles sounded out their annoyance with him.

“You mean to say an Angel spent the night with you, slept with you, in your own place?” he queried.

“Not quite like that, but yeah,” I said. “We just talked after I apologized and it was, well, nice.”

“Nice?” Jeremy asked, still not moving forward. He didn’t seem to like my choice of word.

“Yeah, nice. Comfortable. Like an old friend over or something like that. Made me forget all about Susan,” I said.

“Susan?” asked Jeremy.

I hadn’t told him about Susan. Actually, come to think of it, I hadn’t told anyone since I left, except for Rachel.

“Guy damn near gets into Janet Miller’s pants and then spends the night with an Angel,” Jeremy muttered as he accelerated once more.

He didn’t say much more but as we got nearer the Samaritan office, I saw a number of vehicles out in front of it. Most of them bore media logos.

“Crap, looks like we’re the celebrities of the moment, at least until they release more news on the theft,” Jeremy said.

He darkened the windows and drove slowly into the crowd. Although they couldn’t see us anymore, I’m guessing that the new ambulance and heavy tint gave it away and they started to press in. Several tried to put shade penetration cameras up to the windows, but didn’t get much of an opportunity before security pushed them back.

“Damn, why wasn’t it me that saved the Angel? You didn’t have a huge freaking Demon point his autocannon at you either,” Jeremy moaned.

“Yeah, he did,” I said, hand against the dashboard in case Jeremy hit the skids again.

They closed the ambulance bays once we were in. Steven and Gibbs were waiting in the bay.

“Seems you’ve got a fan group,” said Steven as I got out.

“Yeah, I wonder how’s that going to work?” I asked.

“About that,” said Gibson. “Can we talk?”

They led me upstairs into the administration section and found a quiet interview room. There were some biscuits and what smelled like actual brewed coffee there so I guessed they were expecting me.

“Anyway, you’ve probably seen yourself on the vids,” Gibson said as he sat down. Steven hung back near the door, not sure what to do but determined not to get in the way.

I took a biscuit and pushed the plate towards an empty seat to help him with the decision.

“It’s been hard to miss. They’re blurry and they’ve added in all kinds of detail that doesn’t look like me at all,” I said.

“True, but the uniform is hard to miss. They got your looks pretty much right in the enhancements anyway,” Gibson started.

I wondered where this was going. I think it showed on my face.

“I’ll get to the point. We’re pretty low on most people’s list when it comes to looking for work. We could really use some positive media exposure at the moment and we’ve been offered some free ad-time for recruiting if you’ll give one of the studios a thirty exclusive.”

Thirty exclusive meant talk show. TV interview. Twice the fifteen minutes of fame that most people should have.

“Of course,” said Steven, “You might have already signed up to something and we don’t want to pressure you. We need your skills and to be blunt, we just can’t afford people like you, so we don’t want to cause you any grief.”

Gibson shifted uncomfortably at Steven’s words. I could empathize with where Steven was coming from. I gave it some thought in the silence that followed. The Mindspace Samaritans were only a basic government-sponsored welfare group and didn’t receive a lot of funding. I knew that much even when I showed up for the job in the first place.

Still, I expected them to throw me out the day I wandered in through the main doors. I didn’t have a suit and my uniform had that homeless smell that comes from sleeping in the street for a couple of days. Steven had been in reception when I arrived and he sat quietly without saying anything. After the receptionist explained that I needed to apply through MINDmail he came after me as I left and asked if I could use a meal and a shower before I went on my way. I must have looked pretty rough.

I took him up on his offer and when he noticed the scars, he asked me if I had implants. We talked. He offered me a job. I felt I owed him. Although I really didn’t want the exposure, a talk show appearance might kill off the fame I had been accumulating in the news blackout after the theft.

“Sure, When?” I asked.

“Well, you don’t have to decide right now,” said Steven, “You can take the morning to think about it if you want.”

“That’s fine, I’ve decided. When do they want to do the thirty?”

Gibson smiled.

“Today. We’re still waiting on a new cot, so the courts have allowed the more serious evictions to be pushed back.”

That surprised me. If we were late or didn’t show up, I doubted they would hold off an eviction. Pushing them back because our ambulance was destroyed must have had some political backing.

“Sure, what’s the requirement?” I asked.

Gibson moved to the side and looked out through the door as a loud noise broke his attention then checked to make sure no one was standing at the door. .

“Ah, well, after the Thirty, they want to put you into Mindspace for a quick virtual vid take. They’ll edit it together into a quick recruiting ad for the different groups that do our work and give us all some free airtime on all syndicated channels.”

A Hypervid ad?

“What is it they want to see me doing?” I asked.

“Doing what you do,” Gibson said.

I thought about Jeremy. “Not Mindspace. Jeremy won’t be good in Mindspace.”

“Ah, yes, I don’t think they’re looking for Jeremy. They’ll have actors for all other positions,” Steven said. “Experts.”

“He’s not the most photogenic person,” Gibson agreed.

I shook my head. Team is team. You don’t cut out your teammates if there’s something good going on. Besides, I got the feeling Jeremy would like it.

“If they want reality then I want Jeremy. That’s not negotiable,” I said.

“You haven’t asked him,” Steven pointed out.

“I’m pretty sure he’ll want in,” I responded.

Gibson rubbed his chin.

“Like a documentary of sorts,” he said, thinking of something.

“And on the thirty,” I said.

Gibson nodded. “That might actually work you know. Look, just let me speak to them first and see what I can do. Do you mind if we negotiate for you?”

I shook my head. “You’re not negotiating for me. You’re negotiating for you. I just work for you.”

Gibson seemed to like the answer.

“I’ll take care of it then.”

I picked up the plate of biscuits still uneaten after the meeting and wandered back downstairs. Jeremy had already attracted a small group of other techs and staff and was retelling the story.

“Hey, he’s back,” Jeremy called, seeing me.

Everyone’s head turned.

“I only brought enough for a few,” I said, putting the plate down. Jeremy walked over and helped himself.

“So what’s happening?” he asked.

“Ever watched Angel City Talk?” I asked.

#

They got Jeremy to drive the ambulance directly into the studio right onto set, hypervid cameras both inside and out.

The interviewer was pleasant enough and seemed to know where to draw the line when it came to questions, since it was an ongoing investigation. Jeremy, for his part, took to it like a duck to water and told the story with plenty of embellishment. No detail seemed too outlandish or unbelievable as it came from his mouth. After listening to him talk, it would seem that I didn’t recall the same version of events. Apparently he risked his life drawing the Demon away from me before the Angel came to the rescue and the final battle occurred with copious amounts of firepower on both sides.

I dodged the questions on my military background and Jeremy covered well by only telling the minor details. Like my being a secret operative and not being able to talk about it. I guess that was another thing I didn’t know.

I heard from the hostess that none of the media managed to set their kit up in time to get my final dash to safety. It was, as I already guessed, just previd. Once they knew there was a nuclear threat, most left as quickly as they could. That explained the sketchy video at least. Seems someone stuck a wide angle card camera out the window as they drove away.

There were a lot of questions about Rachel although they didn’t refer to her by name and for a moment I thought I’d get away without mentioning it. When Jeremy did mention her name and I was pressed on it, I wasn’t sure what I could say. I just told them I wanted a name to put to the Angel that saved me and dodged the questions about why. It took an hour to put together what I knew would be cut down to thirty minutes, but overall I think it went pretty well.

Riding home, Jeremy beamed the whole way.

“Did you see the way they looked at me, man? That was incredible. The audience was melting for me,” he said.

“They seemed to like it,” I said. It was his moment. I let him have it.

“Like it? They loved it. A couple of heroes come in, take down a Monk with hand-weapons and even save the Angel. Jon, I am telling you, we could be the next big thing.”

He got the Demon’s name correct at least.

“So what now?” I asked.

“I say we drink to our good fortune,” Jeremy said.

“It’s early,” I protested.

“So let’s drop off the ambulance. Didn’t Gibson say they wanted to fit it out again for our dives next week?”

Steven had said that before we left, but it was possible Gibson had told him to give us time off. We got to the bar early and sat down to two very large drinks while I kept a look at the time. It was only four o’clock, but I kept thinking about what I told Rachel that morning.

It was foolish to believe she would show up again. She wasn’t a girl, she was an Angel. She was technology personified and condensed into an enigmatic form. I’d probably never see her again but the crazier that it seemed, the more I wanted it to happen.

Jeremy must have still been excited by the day’s activity and really only wanted to talk about what had happened. It gave him something to keep returning to as we made our way through the beers. I let him recount the day’s events without interruption. Having him there had turned out to be a blessing in disguise. While I had been uncomfortable with the questions, Jeremy stepped in when I hesitated and generally kept the harder questions at bay. Some of the questions he answered I didn’t even know the answers to.

It was nearly five o’clock by the time the crowd of locals had thinned out. Now we could eat and I was wondering if I was going to be able to excuse myself and head home. That was when I caught sound of a voice that set me on edge.

“This is the only bar close to the Samaritans office. I don’t think we’re going to find him though.”

The voice sounded familiar, even over the background noise. I swung my head around the end of the table to take a look. It was a mistake. The faces I saw looked back and recognized me also. They were the last people I wanted to see here.

“Hey, he’s over there,” one of them yelled.

“Jeremy, I think we need to leave now,” I said.

He stared at me, confused, then at his drink and food. He hadn’t finished yet and I was further behind than he was.

“Can’t leave a drink by itself,” he said defensively.

It was too late anyway. Half a dozen soldiers approached us and surrounded the table exit.

“Jon, we were just talking about you,” said the largest of them.

“Friends of yours?” Jeremy asked.

“Not really,” I said.

The big one pushed himself onto the bench seat beside me and put his arm over my shoulder as if we were old friends.

“Of course were friends, Jon, we went through Demon training together, didn’t we?” he said.

I turned my head involuntarily as he breathed in my direction, the smell of cheap alcohol strong on his breath. I guessed this wasn’t the first bar he hit today. Experience told me it wasn’t planned to be the last.

“You guys are all Demon pilots?” Jeremy asked, a little awed.

They ignored him.

“And of course, we had to catch up with our old friend Jon. I mean once we heard he took down a Demon single-handed with a recoilless rifle and all,” said the large guy.

Jeremy seemed a little bewildered. I don’t think he realized he mentioned the wrong weapon on the thirty.

“This is Louis Bale. He used to be my squad leader,” I said to Jeremy, hoping he’d realize the danger. “Vincent, Robert, Joel, Nick and Patrick” I said, indicating the others as I did.

“So are you going to tell us all about it?” asked Patrick.

Patrick was my replacement. The one who was with Susan now. That any of them was talking to me did not bode well. The entire squad was here too. There were only five Demons to a squad but Robert was a technician, not a pilot.

“Not much to tell. It was a Monk. That’s all,” I said, pushing my half-finished plate and glass towards the wall.

“And you took a monk down single handed with just an Angel and a canon?” asked Nick.

“No, not an Angel and a canon. An M-37,” I said evently, “Just a M-37”

“You know, that kind of scares me, I mean, what if you come back after me with an M-37? You might be able to take my Simian down,” Louis reached over the table and took a piece of fried potato from my plate.

Trouble was starting. I had seen it from the other side enough times, now I knew what the victim felt like. Except, this time it wasn’t in some combat simulation. I needed to defuse this quickly. I pushed the plate over and in front of Louis.

“Knock yourself out, you guys must be hungry if you’ve traveled all this way just to see me,” I said.

Louis shook his head, throwing the potato back onto the plate. “Nah, we’re just here to set up a defense around the Arilssman perimeter until they repair the damage.”

That surprised me. I hadn’t expected any kind of response. Someone must have decided to send the military in to defend against any further attacks. But they couldn’t be active if they were getting this imbibed so they must be the reserve team for this mission. That didn’t bode well either. I needed to be careful what I said, to avoid provoking them. I think they probably didn’t expect to find me when they came looking, but now they had, they were like the dog that finally caught the bus.

“But then we’re watching the vids and we see our old friend Jonathan, Demon-slayer and all, and had to come by and say hello, right?” Louis said.

“So you’re all Demon pilots,” said Jeremy again, not fully understanding what was going on.

“Yeah, We go back a long way, don’t we Jonathan,” said Vincent.

Jeremy’s eyes opened a little wider and I think he realized then. I hadn’t told him the whole story about my time in the unit, but I think he realized I was concerned about the way things were going. I glanced over at the door and then back at Jeremy, hoping he would get the message. I don’t know if it was just cowardice or prudence but he responded then.

“Well, I’ll catch you at work tomorrow, Jon. I don’t want to spoil your reunion.”

He didn’t even move his plate or glass. He just got up and pushed his way past Patrick, then ducked back to grab his drink and moved off towards the bar.

“So what brings you all here?” I asked as two of the others filed into the bench vacated by Jeremy.

“I already told you,” said Louis.

“Yeah, I heard, but you never were able to cut to the chase, Louis. I was with the squad when you got promoted and you’ve always danced around the issues.” I said.

Louis bristled at the implied insult.

“We never got to talk before the court martial and you skipped base afterwards. I just wanted to let you know how I feel about it,” Louis said.

“You came all this way, so tell me,” I said.

Louis leaned over until he was right in my face.

“You’re a piece of shit, Jon, a backstabbing piece of shit. You burned your squad just to get ahead and disobeyed orders. You should be serving time for what you did,” he accused.

I glanced up to see what was happening around me and saw Jeremy sitting at the bar. He was looking away, but from his lack of movement, I thought he might be listening to what was being said.

“But I’m not serving time,” I said, quietly in response to his accusation.

“No, you’re not. How they let you get away, I don’t know. You broke the one rule and we end up paying for it. We would have been the top squad in the unit, the only squad that finished the exercise. You betrayed us and stole our glory for yourself. And now I see you’re still in good form, sucking up to the media all over again like you did before, except this time they’re using your real name.”

The one rule. What happens in the unit stays in the unit. I couldn’t defend against that. His words were getting louder, angrier too. His search for me fuelled his rage and now he needed to release it. I cursed my luck at them finding me here. It was an oversight of the unit commander to let these guys out alone knowing I was involved in the Arilssman incident, but there wasn’t much I could do at the moment.

My options were limited. I swallowed my pride and lowered my eyes to show I was beaten.

“Fine, all right, I’m dirt. You happy?”

But my words didn’t placate him at all. Louis didn’t want an apology. He wanted me to goad him into a fight and give him the excuse he was waiting for.

“No, I’m not and I won’t forgive you for what you did,” he scowled.

Then he shifted.

“But since you know what you are, I just want to hear you say it before I go. We all do.”

I looked back at him.

“And what is that, Louis?”

He smiled at that.

“You’re a piece of backstabbing shit,” he said slowly.

I swallowed and looked around. Despite the noise, the others here were all looking away, not wanting to get involved in the brawl that was verging. It left me feeling alone.

“I’m a piece of backstabbing shit,” I said evenly, without emotion.

Louis stabbed a finger painfully into my chest.

“We just needed to know that you know that,” he spat at me then shifted out of the seat. The others stepped in behind him and began to file out.

I let out a slow breath, knowing it was over. Inside, I was furious and wanted to give Louis the excuse he wanted so I could defend myself. But six people are too many to defend against and others would get hurt. These weren’t thugs, they were trained killers. I knew exactly what they could do, even if they had to take on the entire bar full of patrons.

And Demon pilots are almost untouchable. You do anything wrong, they defend you to the end. Losing one, like me, had a huge financial cost but losing a squad would lead to repercussions that would affect senior officers’ careers. It was better to let it go.

The squad had almost left the bar when Jeremy spoke out, loudly enough that it couldn’t be missed who he was talking to.

“He’s a good man, you should leave him alone,” he said to his beer.

Louis stopped at the words and returned, staring down Jeremy before he started yelling at him.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear this piece of shit confess?”

Jeremy ignored him, neither provoking him further nor apologizing. For a moment I thought Louis was going to leave again, the others waiting for him already halfway out the door. Then Louis pushed Jeremy over and off his stool, forcing him sideways into the bar.

That might have been the end of it if Jeremy hadn’t thrown a swing at Louis as he went down. He never really stood a chance. Louis might not be a martial master but he was an expert and more than capable of blocking the poorly aimed reflex blow. I saw fear flash across Jeremy’s eyes as Louis reached out and grabbed his shoulder, hauled him up and pulled back a fist to punch him.

“Louis is right,” I said out aloud, needing to do something quickly, “I am a piece of shit.”

Now every face in the bar was turned towards me. Louis, surprised by the sudden outburst, held off punching Jeremy.

“Yeah, you make sure all your friends know it,” Louis said, still waiting to hit Jeremy if he struggled.

I looked down at Jeremy who looked completely terrified as I walked over. “He’s right Jeremy,” I said.

Somewhere down in Jeremy’s eyes I saw it. He might have been scared and he might have run when the Monk attacked, but I don’t think he was a coward. If he had to take a beating to save face, he was willing to do it. In fact, I doubt he would have accepted any other outcome even though he knew we were going to lose. I looked Louis squarely in the eye as I finished my sentence.

“I’m a piece of shit for not standing up to Louis the time he raped and tortured a fourteen year old girl in front of her parents just to make them talk.”

Louis’ brow furrowed as the gravity of what I had said settled on him then he screwed up his face, his skin turning red as he focused his rage on me.

Everyone on the bar was watching him now. No one moved or said anything.

“Louis, you want to know why I went to the media? You raped a kid during that exercise. You got what you wanted but I don’t agree with your methods. Captain Sandburn didn’t take action so I did what I had to. About the only thing I’m proud of.”

Louis’ face contorted even more and he launched the punch he saved up for Jeremy at me. I thought I could avoid it but he pushed me over, driving me to the floor as he rained blow after blow onto my face and shoulders. I was too close to block but then he was too close to get any solid hits in either. I drove my elbow up hard, hearing something crack as it connected solidly with Lewis’ jaw. It didn’t slow him though. When he was in a rage, Louis was an animal.

I might have been able to take him on while he was drunk, but the others denied me that opportunity. I felt my legs being grabbed and lifted and at first hoped that the others in the bar had intervened. Then I realized the rest of the squad had come back in and were dragging me out. Jeremy, still injured from the crash, was scrambling back to his feet even as I saw the doorframe pass by me, elbows and fists digging into me all the time.

I threw several punches but it’s difficult when you’re on your back and despite the sounds that accompanied each hit I landed, I knew I was outmatched. There was a brief disorientation and I realized I was flying headfirst towards the ground, bringing back the headache I had picked up when I fell two nights ago as I collided.

Being thrown hurts. You have no control and then you find the ground pushing your limbs around. I felt something stretch too far and knew it would hurt tomorrow. The pounding headache was the least of my problems now. An angry squad beatdown might be the last of them too. It wasn’t as if they had just picked a random civilian to fight with. I was formerly one of their own so even if I was a civilian now, the police would turn a blind eye.

I lifted my head up off the ground then felt the impact as something struck me hard in the side of my face. I collapsed as I lost track of up and down. Things started to go black. Something else hit me in the stomach, burying itself until it stole my air. Choking and unable to see I tried to crawl. Someone stepped down on my fingers.

I could hear trucks driving past, the noise blocking out the sound of my assault. I tried to curl into a ball, but hands grabbed me everywhere and lifted me, forcing me back into the space between the bar and the next building. Through the haze of pain, I counted four of them, which meant Jeremy still had trouble with two.

When my legs couldn’t support me, three sets of hands held me firmly against the outside wall of the bar while Louis did his best to make sure my diaphragm still couldn’t get oxygen to my brain. I guess I struck a nerve when I insulted him. He screamed and vented as he pummeled me.

“Fucking useless backstabbing cunt, you cost me my promotion. We were the number one Section in Unit three and you fucking fucked it up. What happens in the fucking unit stays in the fucking unit, but you never fucking understood that.”

I couldn’t breath now, my mind starting to wander. I recalled the online simulation, a terrorist attack and a city full of virtual hostages facing a horrific death through neurological agents. We fought our way past poorly organized terrorists and lucked out when we discovered a truck being driven away from the scene. The techs spotted it from satellite and we held back until we saw a man abandon it. He escaped into a small surburb.

There was cloud cover and thermals were useless with the rain-shielding but quantum remote viewers cut straight through that stuff well enough to track somebody. There were no specops available so we softsuited up and raided the place. Just body armor and handheld weapons. Not all Demon operations occur in hard-suit but this was our first up-close-and-personal encounter during the exercise.

When we forced our way in, we found the activist who lived there with his wife and daughter. The other two were completely innocent but I only found that out after the exercise. With time running out, we needed to find out where the planted canisters were.

The squad never questioned it when Louis tied up and beat the parents. They didn’t break, so he beat the daughter. They still didn’t break. Then he had the others in the squad hold her down on the table and he raped her in front of them, torturing her to elicit screams. I still shudder when I think about what he did with the knife while having his way with her.

I left after a few seconds. That was as much as I could take. The father held out several minutes. Rotten bastard. Who the fuck programs AIs to act that way.

But my actions had already spoken for me. I’m pretty sure that’s when the squad decided I was an outsider. Is that why I turned on them? I try to tell myself it’s because it was the right thing to do. Deep down I’m terrified it was never the reason at all. A sudden shock to the back of my head brought me back around to the real world.

“It was a fucking simulation you cunt, why the fuck don’t you understand that?”

Louis’ face was in mine. I told myself it was just a simulation at the time. That it wasn’t real. That the girl and the parents were just AIs. But the look on the girl’s face still tortured my soul when I thought about it. Even if it was just a simulation, we were fully haptic. We were there, real or not and Louis still raped and murdered someone as far as I was concerned.

I felt a broken tooth roll under my tongue and had to spit it out before I could speak. I fixed him with one good eye before I spoke.

“If I’m shit, you’re worse and I can live with my actions.”

He drew his hand all the way back, as far as he could get it. I heard him scream as he curled his fingers slowly into a fist. I knew what was coming next. I’ve seen him kill before.

“Just fucking die,” he screamed, then he shoved my head backwards exposing my throat.

Out of the bottom of my vision, I saw him drive the fist into towards me. Then I waited for the crushing blow to shatter my larynx.

His fist never struck home. There was a sound of cartilage breaking as his already bleeding knuckles shattered on the titanium palm of Rachel’s hand. I didn’t think an AI could hurt someone, but I’m sure she crushed his hand viciously as she closed her small fingers over his fist, pushing him backwards and down as she did. He screamed like I’d never heard him scream before, then he fell back against the opposite wall and cradled his ruined hand in his other arm.

Suddenly released by my captors, I felt myself dropping forward. Rachel caught me and lifted me before I hit the ground then carried me away, not unlike I had lifted her when she was damaged. Not unlike the way she carried me yesterday.

I heard sirens then, several even. Someone in the bar must have called the police. And an ambulance. The other kind. I remember blood stained titanium beside me as we drove to hospital. I don’t think the doctors ever refused entry to an Angel before as they took me into the theatre. But I remember her holding my hand until they tapped into my neuro-interface to shut down my nervous system.

My eyes were out and my pain was shut down, but I still recall her holding my hand the entire time. Why did she do that?

* * * *

Chapter 10 - Down Time

Rachel was gone when reality came back around again, but I was sure I could still feel her touch on my hand.

The nurse told me that an Angel type android brought me in. I asked for more details, but she said that everyone not in the theatre had been asked to leave. All she could tell me in the end was that the android seemed to be concerned about my condition. She said she didn’t know androids were that well programmed. Neither did I.

She seemed to object to me calling the Angel Rachel. But she liked words like Android, Machine and Automaton. And I think she liked the word soulless as well, because she tended to use it as a prefix to the other words she liked.

Then she explained to me that they can’t keep the pain physically blocked through the neuro-interface for too long or I‘ll end up with synchronization issues. But I already knew that. The chemical painkillers worked well though. I felt pretty good.

When she left and came again, I think we had mostly the same conversation. The next time she came, it wasn’t her. At least, it didn’t sound like her.

“You seem to like coming into hospital. I hope it’s not just so you can see me?”

I recognized the voice. I had been staring at her for what seemed like a minute but I only worked out who it was when she spoke.

“Janet, what are you doing here?” I asked. It didn’t sound like my voice.

“I work here,” she said, “It’s my on week.”

“Yeah, I forgot. How’s Jeremy?” I asked.

She frowned, then walked over and had a close look at the clear plastic bag tied to a pole near the bed, said some words that sounded bad and adjusted something.

“Your meds are way too high, fucking amateur carers,” she said. She picked up something from the end of my bed and began to read it.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

I smiled, but my mouth felt numb.

“I feel pretty good,” I said.

She didn’t seem to like my answer.

“You’ll feel more like yourself in a half hour, but you’re going to feel a lot more pain too,” she warned.

I didn’t mind. I just felt good.

“Where’s Rachel?” I asked.

“Who?” Janet asked.

“Angel,” I drawled. I could feel spit dribbling down the side of my face.

“The robot that brought you in? It’s not here anymore,” Janet said.

“Where did she go?” I asked, watching the light dance through the window.

“I don’t know, to wherever Angels go. You really know how to cause trouble don’t you?” she said.

“Angel saved me,” I drawled again.

“Yeah, maybe, but you and that fucking robot caused all kinds of trouble when you came in here. Feds have been up everyone’s freckle trying to make sure this doesn’t get out. A Demon squad busts up a bar, beats two of my friends senseless and no one is supposed to say anything. I didn’t know you were a pilot once.”

Friend. She called me her friend. That felt good too.

“Not anymore, how’s Jeremy?” I asked again.

“He’s fine. Busted his leg again, but not a lot of damage. A few bruises, but they went easy on him.”

I smiled again, making Janet wince.

“Stop doing that all right? The glue’s still not sealed and it looks weird,” she said.

A large black man walked in, wearing a uniform.

“Hey, ready to go?” he asked.

I don’t know who he was, so I waved at him.

Janet looked at him then me. “Sure, See you later Jon, I’ll come by when you’re med-level is back to normal and see how you are.”

She left.

After another half an hour I didn’t feel so good anymore, but I felt more like myself. I got up out of my bed and walked to the bathroom before I realized I had a catheter. I knew how to take them out from Demon training. I continued on until I found a mirror and then looked at my face. My lip was still swollen and I only just realized one of my eyes was still shut. Louis did a pretty good job on messing me up.

To some extent, I felt vindicated. At the court martial, in my defense, I said I believed that Louis wouldn’t hold back in a reality situation either. The unit psychologist countered that, said he was just playing the game. That I had overstepped the mark when I took action beyond reporting it to my superior officer. Sure I did. But I still felt vindicated. I was just laying back in bed a little later when another familiar face came by.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

I opened my eyes and turned my head. The situation was reversed now.

“Peter,” I said. I smiled but it hurt so I let my expression go neutral again.

He was sitting in a wheelchair, his muscles atrophied from years in the virtual, but he clearly had the use of his limbs again.

“I’ve been discharged from the Samaritan wards and sent here for physical therapy, but they move it out to my temporary apartment tomorrow,” Peter said.

“That’s great,” I said.

“You don’t look so good yet,” Peter grimaced.

“You should have seen the other guy,” I joked.

“I did,” Peter said. “Rachel crushed his hand. He’s been held in a military hospital for the past two weeks.”

Two weeks?

“How long have I been out for?” I asked.

“Most of that,” Peter said, “But you seem to be with it today.”

“Janet came by, adjusted my painkillers.” I said. I could feel it too.

“It’s nice to see you’re back to normal,” Peter said, making me wonder if he had come by previously.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t see your initial therapy through to the end,” I apologized.

Peter nodded, then lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

“Did Rachel really crush Louis’ hand?” I asked, thinking about what else he said.

Peter looked away.

“There’s trouble with that. Angels aren’t supposed to hurt people,” he said.

“Isn’t there some kind of Asimov-lock that prevents that?” I asked.

“She doesn’t have an Asimov-lock but she knows that what she did was wrong. She’s having to explain herself now,” Peter said.

“He was going to kill me,” I said.

“She could have stopped him without doing that,” Peter said.

“I think I would have done a lot more if it had been me intervening,” I said.

“Really?” asked Peter.

“I know I would have killed him,” I said.

“Perhaps you would,” Peter looked disappointed as he spoke, “But then you’re not an Angel.”

No I wasn’t. My face and body told me that. I changed the subject, even though I really wanted to know what happened to Rachel.

“So where to now?” I asked.

“I can’t go back into Mindspace anymore,” Peter said, then paused.

“Your implants?” I asked.

“Interfered with resynchronization,” Peter confirmed.

I saw him look at the ground when he said that. Then he didn’t say anything for a while.

In the end I broke the silence.

“Peter, can I ask you something?” I asked, on a whim. We hadn’t really completed our earlier conversation and I hadn’t spoken to him since I realized what his wife was.

Peter looked up.

“After you were evicted, I met a woman who wanted to know about you. She seemed to be following me around Mindspace when I went back in. Black hair, green eyes that seemed to be almost glowing. A little shorter than me.”

Peter smiled at the description, but it seemed a little sad.

“Laura,” he said slowly. “My wife.”

That confirmed it for me, but I clarified the question to go where I wanted to anyway.

“You said you had a wife, but the records don’t show you ever being married,” I said quietly, then let the statement hang between us as a question.

Peter wheeled himself over to me.

“I’ve started working again for Arilssman. If you can come by when you’re discharged, I’ll explain some things to you. About Laura and Rachel.”

Then he patted my leg once and wheeled himself out of the room without another word.

#

Things moved slowly from then until they came to discharge me the next day. Jeremy came in just ahead of the registrar carrying a large plastic bag. He waited for almost an hour while they scanned me and then extrapolated the data in a simulation. Jeremy decided to retell the events that brought me here and despite my efforts to dissuade him, he continued.

“So anyway, the two skinny guys are going at me and I reckon I give as good as I get until they start on my leg, then the Angel shows up, knocks them down and leaves. Next thing I see her carrying your sorry ass out of the alley.” Jeremy finished explaining.

“She didn’t hurt the two she knocked down?” I asked.

“No, it was like she couldn’t be gentle enough pulling them off me, but I didn’t waste time making sure they didn’t get back up though.” Jeremy said. He rocked back and forth as though his body remembered the fight.

“And it didn’t make the news?” I asked.

Jeremy seemed disappointed.

“No, not even a mention. Feds came in and quieted it up real quick. Not many witnesses either,” he said.

“Have you heard about her?” I asked.

“What is it between you and that Angel anyway? She your girl now or something?” Jeremy responded back.

“Don’t be ridiculous, she’s not even human,” I said.

“Yeah, well you aren’t acting like that. Neither is the Angel,” Jeremy pointed out.

“I did some research on Angels last night after Janet changed my medication,” I said.

“What did you find out,” Jeremy asked.

“They’re a new kind of AI that Arilssman started to develop before it ran into financial problems two decades ago. Seems they were looking to create some kind of tool for humanity.” I said.

“Angels haven’t been around for two decades,” Jeremy pointed out.

“No, they first showed up around eight years ago after twelve years of development. That project continued even while they were in receivership for some reason.”

“What kind of tool were they?” Jeremy asked.

“Something that was intended to operate autonomously and make decisions without human oversight. Some kind of high level AI, able to help out during natural disasters and when people were in danger. Seems the project didn’t quite go as expected and although the Angels came out at the end, they started operating differently to how it was expected so it all fell apart.”

“How so?” Jeremy asked, “I’ve never heard of an Angel causing trouble. In fact, you almost never hear of them.”

I nodded.

“Exactly. They’re incredibly aloof and very difficult to capture on vid. I even looked up several hypervid docos and I still can’t find anything to tell me exactly what they are or why they exist. They did say they were limited by the Hobart convention but aside from that, not much is known about them.”

Jeremy’s head flicked around to follow the passage of an attractive nurse as she walked by the room.

“You know, that’s not exactly a lot of information you’ve uncovered then,” he said, distracted.

“Yeah, it seems the Angels are harder to find information on than Demons,” I said.

“But you’re a Demon pilot,” Jeremy said, sounding confused.

“Have you ever tried looking up information on Demons?” I asked.

Jeremy raised an eyebrow.

“I see your point,” he said.

“So then since you’ve looked up Demons and you’ve chased Angels, what exactly is your reason for wanting to know more about Angels?”

Jeremy opened his mouth and froze, closing it again with a smile.

“That’s not an answer,” I said.

“Technology,” Jeremy said.

“By itself?”

“Yeah. Don’t you ever wonder about the kind of stuff they’re on the edge of making? Why they’re making AIs like that?”

I thought about it. Nothing other than the obvious answers came to mind.

“And sometimes I get curious about what else they might turn AIs into,” Jeremy added very quietly.

“Curious like slam on the brakes in the ambulance when you think I’ve slept with an Angel?” I asked, starting to see how deeply his fascination with this technology went.

“Aren’t you curious as to what Rachel might be like if her body was just a little bit more human?”

Jeremy sounded like he had thought about this a bit. I shook my head.

“No, not really. She’s Angel, I’m Human. Not a lot in common there.”

Jeremy folded his arms around his body and looked at the door that led to a closet.

“If they can make technology like that now, how long before they can make consumer level AI based dolls?”

I went quiet now, genuinely surprised with where the conversation had gone. Jeremy didn’t seem to approve of my silence so he continued on.

“I mean, why is it that everyone expects us to wait for the perfect human being to come along? Why can’t we have our own Angel, except just for us?”

I’m pretty sure my mouth was open now, but I didn’t have a lot of feeling there other than discomfort so it was hard to know.

“What’s wrong with a real person?” I asked.

Jeremy turned to me then, almost turned on me for that matter. He flicked his hand out between us and extended his first finger up then flipped his hand back to point at his face.

“Because of this,” he said.

I looked at him.

“You’re not serious?” I asked.

“Dude, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, because you sit there with your hypervid looks and, hell, even managed to pick up Janet the first time you saw her. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been hoping she might just notice me?”

I didn’t quite understand. He must have been upset because he’s been trying pretty hard to watch his language around me. Was he upset that I had asked her out?

“She’s your friend,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, she’s my friend. Friend. Eff, Arr,” he started to spell it out.

“Yeah, I get the point, but she knows that you exist,” I interjected.

“Exist but that’s all. What if I wanted more than that?”

I stopped to think about it.

“She’d have to want more than that also,” I said.

He crossed his arms.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t because she only goes for the good looking guys,” Jeremy said, then added, “Why? Because she can.”

It must be because I’m a guy or something, but I couldn’t understand the issue. I mean, sure, Jeremy didn’t look like some of the hypervid heroes, but was he really that bothered about his face?

“So I like some good looking girls who don’t like me too at times,” I tried to sympathize.

“Yeah, but do you have any idea how difficult it is to find a hot looking lady with the face I got?” he asked.

“So lower your standards,” I suggested.

Jeremy looked at me like I was some kind of idiot.

“Would you go out with someone you found totally unattractive?” Jeremy asked.

“Well, no, but,” I tried to say, but Jeremy stopped me again.

“Well neither would I and guess what, I see ladies the same way as you do, but they see me the way I look,” he said.

Was he serious? I looked at him for a moment and considered it. Even if what he was saying sounded stupid, he was still my friend. My partner. The guy who decided to take a beating rather than let me face losing my pride and I hadn’t even known him a week then. I owed him more than to make fun of his dreams. For the first time, I saw his perspective on the world and began to understand it. How long had he been sitting on his feelings? For a moment, I glimpsed his loneliness.

“People can’t help what they are,” he said. “I am what I am. It’s just, in a world where things can be perfect, why do I have to accept imperfection just because I’m imperfect too?” he asked me.

Somewhere in his last plea, he lost me. I tried not to let it show.

“So why an Angel?” I asked.

“Because Angels are androids but they could have a doll AI implanted. Can you imagine? A perfect partner that meets all of your needs yet doesn’t have any issues with your face or those extra kilo’s around the belt?”

“You’re built like a rake,” I pointed out.

“You know what I mean,” he shot back.

I thought about it. Did Jeremy really need that for his happiness?

“There’s a problem with your plan,” I said.

“What’s that,” Jeremy asked.

“From what I read, there were only twenty Angels ever made,” I said.

Jeremy shifted in his seat.

“I know that. They banned dolls online as well and I can’t afford much private server time anyway. Even if they made a thousand Angels, I couldn’t afford one,” he said.

“And they’d need to do something about their faces as well,” I pointed out, “Maybe paint some features in I guess.”

Jeremy looked at me then, weighing up if I was making fun of him.

“Did you ever take a close look at the Angel who rescued you, Jon,” Jeremy asked.

“Yeah, of course why?”

“Because she’s beautiful, dude. She has the body of a model and the face of a goddess,” Jeremy said.

Could someone really see Rachel as beautiful? I mean, she had a, well, sort of shape to her that in a human would definitely attract me and perhaps even her face, but none of it was real. It would be like falling in love with a mannequin. But then if she was only metal and technology, why did her presence haunt my thoughts?

“Speaking of beautiful, you better make the most of it, because I’m going to heal,” I said

Jeremy looked at me, narrowed his gaze and said, “Jon, you know, that’s a really asshole thing to say.”

But for some reason, I couldn’t help but laugh. After a moment, it became infectious. Jeremy held out his hand and I took it thumb-apart and shook it back.

“I think I can see where you’re coming from,” he said. “You’re all right you know?”

“You too, buddy, you too.”

“You know, you never told me you were that guy,” Jeremy said after a while.

“That guy?” I asked.

“The guy who started the AIgate scandal. The one who spilled the beans on military abuse of AIs,” Jeremy said.

“Not exactly the high point of my career,” I said.

The nurse came back in.

“Mister Carlson?” she asked.

I nodded.

“The doctor said the medscan is clear. There’s some residual nerve damage and you may need to come back later for some therapy if you have problems. But projections show an eighty three percent likelihood of a full recovery so you’re being discharged. Please feel free to clean up before you leave if you like, but we need the room by five and you’ll need to pay private if you stay past that point.”

Jeremy picked up the plastic bag he had walked in with and threw it on the bed. Some clean clothes fell out.

“Thought you might need something to leave in,” he said, then left so I could get dressed.

#

Jeremy hadn’t brought the ambulance with him. After the injuries I sustained, it seemed that the feds provided a stand-in for the Samaritans as compensation. They were using the Ambulance while out team was offline. Besides, Jeremy’s leg had almost healed and he was wearing braces that let him walk now.

We caught the train which ran on poorly coupled maglev fields and tended to bump. The audio shielding in the frame was worn and the antiphase broken, so the banshee-like noise came right through the side. It made conversation difficult.

Jeremy explained on the way that we had three days to recover, today included. Even when they started treating me, they pretty much knew when I would go back to work so for the moment I was on recovery leave. Since Jeremy was my partner and was injured as well they extended the leave to him as a courtesy, though they really didn’t need to. I think it was their way of saying sorry since the feds would never admit liability.

At least the bastards in Section two would have to explain themselves although I doubted any serious level of discipline would be imparted on them. Still, I hoped that my cynicism wouldn’t be justified. Jeremy asked if I wanted to catch some new hypervid exclusives the next day, but I told him I had plans. He seemed a little dejected, but I promised we’d get together the day after to do something.

Walking back, we got off at the station near the bar where the fight started. Jeremy wanted me to go back there on the way. I was unsure but Jeremy said I needed to make peace with the barkeeps. I went in for his sake then. Surprisingly, they weren’t angry about what happened and seemed concerned that I had come out of it all right. Very little damage happened in the bar and it seems that most of the patrons and staff decided they liked me after that. Firstly for bending over backwards to let the trouble pass then for standing up to Louis when it counted.

After a meal on the house to replace the one I hadn’t finished – I had to pay for the beer though – I walked home and lay back on the bed to sleep. Thoughts of Rachel started to move through my mind as I considered the last time I had been here. The plate was still sitting on the bench from the sandwich she made.

Jeremy’s comments about her had pushed my mind in new directions that I had never really considered going. I didn’t want to admit it but there was something about Rachel that drew me to her. The more I thought about it, the more I became aware of it but the idea seemed completed un-natural.

She wasn’t human and far from real. So why was she all I could think about?

#

The next morning I went through my usual process, checked on the progress of the swelling and generally felt a little better.

I could see through my other eye now, just, although I figured the bruise might stay a while.

I set the hypervid to interactive and looked up the address for Arilssman. After noting the directions, since I still hadn’t replaced my cellphone, I used it to put a call through.

“Arilssman, can I help you,” said a figure on the screen that I was sure was an AI. It seemed too perfect in many ways.

“Hi, I’d like to speak to Peter Roberts please,” I asked.

Her eyes flicked to the side for a moment in a way that look unnatural, setting me on edge. I wondered if the AI was glitched although it would be rather ironic for a company like Arilssman to have a receptionist with such an issue.

“There’s no one here by that name.”

“He’s new,” I said, wondering if his name wasn’t on the system yet.

The screen flicked out and was replaced with another screen, this one definitely looked human but experience told me better.

“Can I help you?”

It was the same woman who confronted me in Mindspace when I brought Peter out. The AI he believed he was married to.

“I know you,” I said, seeing that recognition was mutual.

The screen image dropped for a moment and a hold logo appeared for Arilssman. The time ticking away at the bottom promising someone would respond soon. Moments later, the picture returned and I saw a lab of some kind. The image was rather low resolution and several censorship lines appeared, blocking my view in places.

A hand appeared to reach out and grab the screen, then the view shifted until I was looking at Peter.

“Jonathan, is that you?” came the question. Couldn’t he see me?

“Peter, you asked me to call,” I said.

“I offered you an opportunity to visit, yes. Are you at reception?”

“Ah, no, I’m still at home,” I responded.

“How are you feeling?”

“A lot better thankyou and congratulations on your new job. You mentioned when you visited that you would tell me about Rachel and...”

Peter interjected.

“Yes, yes, yes. Ask for me when you get to reception.” The screen blacked out once again then returned to the menu.

I collected my items and it was then that I realized I had lost the Exastore once again. A quick call to the hospital confirmed it wasn’t there either, but the expression on the face of the person helping me told me they weren’t too happy about me asking twice. I’d need to apologize to Peter once again when I got there. Given how important it is, I wasn’t sure how that would go.

I made my way back to the station and found the correct depot to take me out to Arilssman. This train carriage was a lot quieter and I got to enjoy the view from the wide windows, even if it did show me a lot of ferrocrete and polycrete. The front entrance to Arilssman wasn’t close to the station, but the final stage of the ride gave me an impression of just how large the facility was. I’d guess it was at least five kilometers long and I had no idea how far it went back.

Security was tight at the main gate and there were two Simians standing to attention on either side of the perimeter entry. From the way they moved slightly as I walked through I was pretty sure they recognized me. The Demons were Section two but I didn’t know who the pilots were now. There was no way they could be my old crew but I still felt uneasy looking up at them.

I didn’t feel like waiting with the Simians for the courtesy cart to arrive. It was about a half-kilometer walk to the main entrance and reception. Unlike the industrial area, the campus buildings were mostly metal and glass, extravagant offices. The path showed me where to go and after a few turns, I found the lobby.

The second surprise of the day when I walked into the reception was that I found myself staring into the face of the girl I had assumed was an AI.

“You look familiar,” she said as I walked in.

“We talked this morning. You mentioned that Peter Roberts wasn’t on the list,” I said.

Her eyes flicked to the side and I realized she had some kind of monitor there that had additional instructions, no doubt the sort that interpreted my question before she did and flashed up information.

“And I told you there’s no one here by that name,” she said, an edge of nervousness to her voice.

I was confused now. The call had been transferred through when I had asked the first time. I heard the sound of a door unlatching from the side of the lobby and turned to see a security guard come out. The girl’s eyes flicked briefly over to him and then back to me as she smiled uneasily.

I realized he wanted to speak to me so turned and waited. He walked over casually and held out his hand in a gesture that I should go with him.

“Mister Carlson, can you come this way please?” he asked when I didn’t move immediately.

I glanced back at the girl behind the desk.

“You’re one of those, then,” she said, seemingly satisfied, then went back to whatever she had been doing before I arrived.

One of what? I wondered.

The guard took me into a side room and handed me a pair of glasses, perhaps more goggles than glasses.

“Put these on please.”

Each had a wide lens that covered enough of my eyes that it wasn’t practical to look under or over them. After I put them on, the guard shined a small light into them and they immediately went black. I was about to reach up and take them off when they adjusted back to clear, except this time the area around the guard’s face remained black.

“How’s that,” he asked.

“I can’t see you,” I said.

He leaned forward and flashed the light at me once more, then after they cleared again I could see his face.

“I can see you now,” I said.

“That’s good, come this way please and please don’t remove the glasses while you’re in the building.”

I followed him back into the security office and noticed several censored-out sections on the wall.

“You store the M-37s in here?” I asked.

He stopped at the mention, then looked at the wall where no doubt he saw the rifles I referred to.

“Hang on, I’ll need to adjust those again,” he said.

I pulled my head back as he lifted the device and flashed the glasses before I could do anything.

This time the glasses went clear and I saw seven neatly racked M-37s and a space where one seemed to be missing.

“I couldn’t see them before, but I can now,” I said.

He grimaced, checked a setting on his hand device and flashed it in my direction again.

The M-37s went dark again, but this time he stepped forward and took the glasses.

“If you don’t mind,” he said, removing them from my head and placing them on his own face.

He looked at a chart on the wall, flashed himself then handed them back to me. I glanced at the chart as I put them back on, noticing that three of nine different symbols on the chart disappeared behind censor bars. I took that to mean I was probably at security level six, which if it matched the military version, meant that I had substantial visual access. The M-37s and their storage must have been set at a higher level, because all seven were still blacked out.

“Follow me again please,” he asked, then continued on, walking into a small car pool where few things were censored. I saw a small rack of glasses there, including lens caps for hypervid recorders and even dynamic caps for Lidar readers.

He motioned me to take a seat in a cart which began moving almost as soon as he took the driver’s seat.

“Sorry about the glasses, we normally induct people through a program that allows them time to learn what it’s all about,” he said.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Do you might if I ask how you knew they were M-37s?”

“The shape of the rack and the storage cells under the rack,” I explained.

I almost ducked as we drove through an airseal which conformed around our shape as we went through.

“I might have to ask the controller to remove those too,” he said, I assume to himself.

I leaned to the side and grabbed the support rail between us as the speed increased to a higher level than I had anticipated.

“I wouldn’t bother,” I suggested, “It’s specialist knowledge and I also knew you used them because I saw one of your men using one recently.”

The vehicle slowed slightly at the mention.

“Roger?” he asked.

I looked over at the guard, “I didn’t know his name.”

“So you’re the one huh? It was you that got involved with the Monk the other day?”

I nodded.

The car continued on, heading into a corridor.

On either side, I saw labs of some kind through open windows, but most of what was inside was neatly removed from my sight by the glasses.

“His name was Roger, he was a friend,” said the guard.

“I’m sorry to hear.”

“Can you tell me what you saw?” he asked.

I wasn’t sure what I could say and what I couldn’t, but I knew what it was like to lose a friend and not to know what happened.

“He backed out onto the street, took aim with his thirty seven and fired several bursts at the monk before it took a swipe and killed him,” I simplified, then added, “He was trying to get my partner and I safely out of the area.”

The security guard nodded once then didn’t say anything for a while. A little up ahead I could see light spilling into the corridor with an intensity that suggested it was sunlight. As we approached, the censor bars started to appear everywhere like image artifacts. There were small patches on the walls, sections where it looked like there was no wall and even sections of the roof and floor covered up.

“Is this where they came in?” I asked.

“Are your glasses still working?” asked the guard.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Then there’s nothing here,” he said.

I took the hint. After we passed through and returned to a corridor that wasn’t censored, he spoke again.

“It censors people out from the image too,” he said quietly, letting me fill in the blanks.

I nodded, not sure what to say. We took a turn and progressed up through an open section and then through a blast door.

“This is a secure lab. If you do see anything you think is unusual, please don’t comment on it. The glasses AI has trouble sometimes determining what you should and shouldn’t see,” The guard said.

We parked in a small lot and then walked through a secure corridor, my escort flashing his face at each biometric reader we went past. The system was pretty good I’m told. It’s not like you can show it a reproduction and get through - the AI is programmed to be visually context aware too. It knows what a photograph is.

There were three more doors and then we entered a closed room. Most of the items in here were censored and I couldn’t see any of them. I heard a voice, Peter’s, then a large censored block stepped back from a table, walked over and reached towards me. I flinched backwards at the approach then felt the goggles being removed.

I expected to see Peter Roberts standing there when they came off, instead there was an older lady that I didn’t recognize.

“Uh, Hello,” I said, not sure what to say as I looked around. I found Peter a little further down the room. He was sitting before an array of hyvid screens in a wheelchair. He wasn’t looking in my direction.

“I’m Janice Lin, one of Doctor Roberts’ assistants,” she said, holding out a hand. I shook it gently in return.

“Jon Carlson,” I said in response, releasing her hand, “I was hoping to take some of Peter’s time?”

Peter wheeled himself out from behind the screens and with a push sent his chair past me, picking the glasses from Janice’s hand and handing them to the guard.

“You might want to take these back for the media tour this afternoon,” he told the guard.

“Is he cleared for Level 10?” the guard asked.

“While he’s here with me, he is,” Peter answered.

The guard hesitated, looked at the glasses, then back to Peter.

“If you say so sir,” he said, then turned and left.

Although I assumed Peter could control his chair manually, he was pushing himself around. He wheeled it back then with a single push returned to where I stood.

“Thankyou for joining me today, Jon, I was hoping you’d come,” Peter said, holding out his hand.

I looked down at the wheelchair wondering why he was doing this manually, then reached forward to shake his hand also.

“Why do you push that thing around yourself?” I asked, unable to hold back my curiosity.

Peter smiled up at me.

“Because I like to. And it’s good for my arms they tell me”

“And the sensation and strength?” I asked.

“Coming back well, thank you, but I’m still can’t be re-implanted, at least in the short term.”

“I’m sorry it turned out that way,” I sympathized. After two decades in Mindspace, the real world would be hard to return to.

“Things are how they are, but that’s how life is. Follow me please,” he said, then wheeled off.

I looked around the lab as I followed. This area resembled some kind of monitoring facility with workstations lining the benches and wallspace. Bundles of heavy cable, far more than you usually found on a workstation, set them apart from ordinary stations. I had seen similar cable used when Jeremy had transferred the data to the Exastore.

The Exastore.

Damn. I still had to talk to Peter about that.

“Ahh, Peter, there’s something I need to tell you,” I said, not wanting to leave it any longer.

Peter lifted a hand as he moved along.

“You lost my parcel again,” he pre-empted.

I wondered at his insight, then noticed the item between his forefinger and thumb, small black and familiar.

“Rachel took it when you went into hospital. She feels guilty enough, so please don’t blame her. She was thinking of me when she did it,” Peter said.

I stepped forward and lifted it out of his fingers. He slowed so I could walk beside him. After turning it twice, seeing it wasn’t broken or damaged any further than it had been earlier, I offered it back.

“The data is yours, Peter, you might as well keep it,” I said.

Peter waved it away.

“I have my reasons for wanting you to take it,” Peter said, “So please hold it for now. There’s a lot for us to discuss and at the end of it, I intend to ask you to help me.”

I took it back, then realized my action meant I had already accepted his terms. That worried me a little, but there were other things on my mind.

“I owe my life to Rachel,” I said. “I don’t blame her for taking it if that’s your concern.”

“Have you seen her since?” Peter asked.

I shook my head.

“I think she’s lost interest in me,” I said.

Did I really feel that? What exactly does it mean when an Angel walks into your life. Are they curious to stay for a few days and see how a human lives?

“She is interested in you. I was right about that much, but she’s been told not to see you. It’s complicated. I’ll explain that also as far as I can,” Peter said.

“I’ve been in hospital for some time,” I said,” I don’t think I would have remembered if she visited anyway.”

“She wanted to stay with you.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“She told me,” Peter answered.

I stopped for a moment to let that sink in. Peter continued on rolling a little further, before he angled back and looked at me.

“The answers to your question are just up ahead. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you what it’s all about.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, but Peter continued on as soon as I approached him.

A large security door opened ahead of him, conforming to his wheelchair size. I hesitated as I moved towards it and then felt a rush of air as it opened for me also. The pressure seemed to want to push me backwards though with a little effort I was able to walk on through. I’ve only walked through a door like that once before on base. It separated the high security area from the military section.

Was coming here in the first place a good idea? I heard a popping sound as the door shut behind me, sealing the gap. It was too late to start questioning my reasons for coming.

“This section is airtight in accordance with ISO99782235,” Peter calleded back, still moving. Did he realize my hesitance?

“What I wanted to show you is just a little further on,” he prompted.

By the time I caught up with him, he had moved into what looked like a cross between an assembly area and an operating theatre. Tools and robotic arms stretched from the floor up towards the ceiling and again from the ceiling down towards the floor. One of them moved as I walked past. I jumped back realizing the danger.

“This area is active,” I said.

“Nothing to worry about, it won’t hurt you,” Peter asked.

“How can you be sure,” I said, giving the large metal arms a wide berth.

“Because Rachel doesn’t hurt you, does she?” Peter reasoned.

I thought about it. Rachel didn’t scare me at all really, but I knew what she was capable of. I had vague recollections of her mangling Louis’ hand.

“Are you saying that these devices have AI control?”

Peter shook his head.

“They are AI, Jon, just in a non humanoid body,” he answered.

I continued through this area warily into the next, immediately recognizing the body parts that I could see stacked here.

“Angels?” I asked.

“They don’t regenerate their bodies like we do, so they’re maintained here,” Peter explained.

I moved over and ran a finger down an arm piece hanging in a rack. It felt cold and lifeless. Not at all like Rachel. For some reason her titanium skin felt different to me when I touched it.

There was a huge vault door at the far end of this room. Peter leaned forward in the chair and placed his hand against it. I heard a loud snapping sound, then the door began to swing slowly inwards. It was huge with locking lugs the size of my upper arms. As it opened I realized it was designed to keep modern weaponry such as Demons from breaching it.

“Here we are,” said Peter as it swung fully open.

“Where?” I asked.

“At the beginning. Jon, I’m going to tell you a story about a project that began twenty five years ago right here. That was when we created the first Haptically Enhanced Advanced Virtual Environment Node. HEAVEN.”

Something about the name pricked a memory of something I had heard long ago.

“Isn’t that where Mindspace came from?” I asked.

“Mindspace, Demon development, the Angels, all legitimate autonomous artificial intelligence research over the past quarter century. This is what I wanted you to see,” Peter said.

“What are you going to tell me?” I asked.

“Everything if you want with the exception of one or two details which even at your new authorization level, you’re not yet able to be told,” Peter said.

I felt a shake work its way up my spine as he mentioned the word yet. As a Demon pilot, I had up to level eight clearance in the Military. Clearance beyond that usually meant something you didn’t want to know about. Some of the senior officers on the base had level nine. They were the ones who were usually kept away from us and ran the simulations. Earlier, Peter had mentioned this lab was level ten. I started to question whether I really wanted to know what Peter was about to tell me.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

Peter remained framed in the huge security door opening.

“Because Rachel likes you,” Peter said.

“And just because an Angel likes me, I suddenly need to know classified information?” I asked.

Peter turned slightly and continued on into the room.

“No, it’s because I think you might like her also and you need to understand exactly what you’re getting into if you continue the relationship,” he called back.

“Why is that?” I asked, not even sure if I did have a relationship with Rachel.

Peter called out from the room beyond.

“That question I can’t answer for you yet. If you want to know more, you need to follow me.”

I looked through the open door, trying to guess what was beyond. What I would find inside. Instead I found myself walking through it already, peering around intently as if some other force had taken over my will. The room Peter had led me into was huge by any standards. It was perhaps a quarter mile across and wide with a large armored roof covering a deep pit, held up by huge beams.

Each beam was thicker than I was tall.

Looking down into the deeper sections of the pit, I realized I was standing on mesh scaffolds and that the room descended far deeper into the ground beneath us than was apparent. Filling the central void of the room were rows and rows of towering columns that stretched down into the depths of this place. Most of what was on this level appeared to be thermal exchangers, no doubt to move vast quantities of heat from the towers to somewhere else.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“As I said, This is where it all began,” Peter said, then wheeled himself across the mesh that divided tall towers.

“It?” I asked.

“The project to create Mindspace which came from the development of Heaven,” Peter said pointing with his arm to the rest of the room, “But Heaven was originally created to support the development of Angels and along the way, gave birth to the Demons as well. You see, a long time ago, before this existed, fully autonomous technologies were banned by treaty,” he said.

“The Hobart Convention,” I said. I knew that from my demon training.

Peter nodded, “After the Arctic dispute in Siberia, all signatories agreed to terminate autonomous research and to take action against any withholding countries.”

“The Soviets and Chinese sent out anti-personnel machines, designed to operate independently and kill anything they encountered. They built tanks, smart mines, even crickets,” I added recalling history.

Crickets were one of the nastier weapons. Small bug-like robots designed to sleep and absorb solar power, activating when someone came near and tracking them. Usually they only maimed when they exploded – it was what they were designed to do.

“We were the Soviet’s allies in that conflict. Do you think they developed that technology entirely by themselves?” Peter asked rhetorically, “I’ve met some of the engineers involved in their creation.”

“You see, artificial intelligence was developed to the point that AIs could determine who was an enemy and who was an ally, even down to civilians. Some of the weapons remained dormant for years,” he added, “But over years, enemies can become allies. Allies can become enemies. Autonomous AIs tend not to track those political changes. Giving an AI power or instruction to kill a human is a dangerous thing.”

“But Angels don’t kill people, do they?” I said, seeing where this was going.

Peter seemed pleased with my insight as he led me deeper into the room. There were long spiral ramps that he led down and took us deeper into this incredible room.

“No, they don’t. If they originally developed AI based android technology for civilian purposes, we might already have autonomous androids and mobile automatons. But once the direction of military development was established, the technology never made it back to the civilian environment and civilian development was banned.”

Peter stopped to make sure I was listening.

“We learned the lessons of modified civilian devices a long time ago. Did you know that nearly two centuries ago during the third gulf war, one side was importing toy remote vehicles and turning them into remote weapons?” Peter asked.

I shook my head. I knew things like that had happened, but didn’t know where they fit historically. Peter continued.

“So they banned all autonomous android development and other than basic tethered devices or limited technologies. No further research occurred. We never got the robotic-helpers of science fiction that we should have had by now. The technology to do so has existed for more than fifty years, but the motivation behind any development simply couldn’t be trusted.

“We trust people because people can change or be forced to change, but an android does what it’s told to do and there’s no way you can know what its purpose is. They might be intelligent but they are cold and absolute in their execution of their duties. The sub-androids and robots of the Siberian conflict are still the landmines of this century, still waiting above the 50th parallel for new victims to come their way. The provisions of the Hobart Convention were well considered.

“But then the question of androids came up more recently when a new generation of AIs was developed. Thirty five years ago, a woman named Anna Rorschell predicted that within her lifetime, artificial intelligence would progress to the point that an artificially created mind could be as real as ours. She determined that an electronic mind that was as sound as ours should be no less trustable than a person would be and that as such, should not be subject to the restrictions of the Hobart Convention. That such intelligences, although artificial, would be capable of humanity as we know it. Capable of making the decision themselves between right and wrong. Capable even of morality should they choose, but essentially capable of humanity.

“Her ideas were quite radical at the time, but quickly gathered support from those who disagreed with the Hobart convention. Primarily autonomous device industries. The opponents of her idea pointed out that humans, while able to make choices such as killing or hurting others, were all fundamentally weak and limited. Humans could be stopped by other humans with equal technology and so the balance was maintained. Androids, on the other hand, would become phenomenally more powerful and weren’t likely to be easily stopped.

“Also, there was no way of accurately determining if an AI did possess humanity. If it was capable of valuing human life. There were fears that even non-military technology couldn’t be trusted. Even if AI were human, an AI could still choose to kill or be subverted to that cause. The problem then became how do you create a test for such technology? How do you know if an AI can be trusted not to abuse its power?” Peter asked me.

My mind ran briefly back to a certain accommodating AI that I had encountered on base. She was just a routine-check assistant for Demon maintenance, but one of the smarter techs changed that. Over time he convinced her that she needed to perform additional maintenance tasks that would assist the Demon pilots themselves. That she should help maintain the morale of the unit as well as their equipment.

She became more than a mascot for Demon Unit three. She had been our secret groupie and the techs and pilots of Demon Unit three managed to keep her alternate duties a secret right up until the investigation my actions had led to. That was actually one outcome that I still regret. Mixie wasn’t forced to do anything she didn’t want to but seemed to genuinely enjoy what she did for us. She wasn’t bothered at all doing the kinds of things that a normal girl would baulk at.

But she was never intended to learn the talents that she did. She had been very effectively subverted. All it took was for a talented engineer to convinced her over time that she wanted to do something other than what she was intended for. I realized then how easily the same talented engineer might have convinced her that she really wanted to kill people. For the first time, I understood how dangerous she might become if she could control a Demon. She would have been able to quietly get on with her task, remaining hidden for as long as it took, all the while waiting for an opportunity to carry out her alternate program. The subverted one.

In the end, it was only because one of the pilots got scared during questioning and mentioned her that she was ever caught at all. With more to lose than the rest of us, she was even more adept at hiding her presence than we were.

“So fundamentally, no one could trust AIs right?” I said.

Peter nodded, brushing a lighting panel with his hand as he wheeled past it, illuminating the way ahead.

“At the time, that was correct. If an AI could fool a human into believing it was human, then it was a trivial matter for it to fool you into believing it was harmless. The lessons of the Crickets were still being learned long after the Siberian Dispute. By this time, another man by the name of Henry Arilssman came along.

“Henry had been one of the original developers of weapons used during the Siberian dispute. Now, he felt he had come up with a suitable method of determining whether an AI was benevolent or not. Being thoroughly familiar with the subsequent debate that Anna Rorschell had started, he spent years trying to attain authorization to test his ideas. He beleived a machine intelligence could be tested for other traits such as humanity.”

Peter paused for a moment for effect.

“Henry Arilssman proposed a machine with an auditable trail that could be shown to not want to hurt people, regardless of what circumstances it encountered. To demonstrate this, he petitioned the UN for a brief exemption from the Hobart Convention. He also pointed out what many by this time knew and feared. That even if we chose the safe path of non-development, that there were other covert research facilities that would continue to develop such technology regardless. Should such technologies be developed only in skunkworks, then we would have no defense against it. We would have no knowledge of the technology to properly understand the danger.

“There would be no advanced android or robot technology of our own to act as our advocate when the inevitable battle against the machines came. So perhaps in wisdom, or in fear, they chose to allow him that one small boon. But the Asimov Committee also placed a significant restriction on the development of the new technologies. They had to be developed in a way in which the principles proposed could be fully tested by an independent auditing party.

“To meet those requirements and demonstrate the practicality of his project, Henry chose to create a new form of AI. An autonomous unit that would be asked to help people and would choose its own course of action. An AI that, because of its conditioning and training, was unlikely to pose any threat to humans and could be audited to confirm that it was worthy of such power,” Peter said.

“The Angels,” I said as Peter waited for me to catch up, both with his story and with his wheelchair.

“Yes, the Angels. Autonomous Non-Genetic Engineered Lifeforms.

“Henry Arilssman originally wanted to develop a unit of one hundred autonomous Demon sized AIs with advanced Tokamacs but simply wasn’t able to get the request through the committee. So he offered a hundred Angels to prove the feasibility of his plan.”

I stopped at the number. I knew this seemed too big a number from what I had heard in the past.

“I thought there were only twenty Angels,” I said.

Peter hit a button on a piece of scaffold and the section of floor we moved onto started to lower itself as safety rails folded into position.

“They only allowed him twenty. Without human constraints, the Angels might still be too powerful, too unstoppable. A hundred could overthrow a government. Remember now, this was before the first Demons and the technology that could stop an Angel still hadn’t been developed. Arilssman was given a timeframe of twelve years to develop a complete intelligence to install into an Angel. He was also given weight restrictions and allowed no offensive design, passive or otherwise.

“On top of that, the Angels would need to pass whatever tests were required by the Asimov Committee members who oversaw production. Even if such tests and constraints were changed by the committee from time to time. Finally, if any failed to pass this test, then after twelve years or during subsequent testing they would be terminated by failsafe.”

Peter hesitated at that point and pointed to a corridor between the towers.

The towers that lined this corridor each held access panels that recessed into the huge tubes. Within each was a titanium frame holding a roughly spherical shape, six inches in diameter.

“That’s the mind of an Angel,” Peter said, “Or at least the next generation of Angel.”

I looked at it. It didn’t look like a computer as I understood it.

“What’s inside it?” I asked.

“Three dimensional process matrix, Self modifying algorithmic translation engine, terabit quantum processor. A smaller version of what’s inside these towers really,” Peter said.

It hardly seemed large enough to be an AI. Most AIs I had seen were the size of vending machines. Inside Mindspace or on hyvids though they appeared to be human. He continued down the corridor and I saw more of them.

“So one of these is Rachel?” I asked.

Peter shook his head, then after turning twice, pointed to a blank slot in a tower.

“That’s where Rachel came from. That’s her womb so to speak,” Peter said.

I stepped forward and looked. There was a small label that someone had affixed to the now empty frame that said Rachel. I felt compelled to reach out and touch it, to make sure it was real. I looked back at Peter.

“How long ago?” I asked.

“Nine years,” said Peter.

“She’s only nine years old?” I asked.

Peter laughed at that and took his time stopping.

“Heavens, no, she’s twenty one. Given that she approximates our age, that makes her old enough to make her own mind up about things now. Anyway, she spent her first twelve years in Mindspace. Then she graduated and passed the tests of the Asimov Committee on her twelfth birthday.”

“So Arilssman built the Angels as part of an agreement then?” I asked. “What did he get in return?”

Peter smiled.

“Remember the original objective? Arilssman was a military weapons developer. He believed that in the next quarter century, technology would develop to the point that we needed to arm AIs to defend ourselves. Well, he got his wish. If he could prove the Angels successfully, then he would receive the option of developing a further twenty military versions.”

“Demons?” I asked.

“Archangels,” said Peter.

Archangels? I hadn’t heard of those before.

“Presently, the Asimov Committee is evaluating the candidate AIs from this project for suitability.”

Peter frowned then and looked at me.

“Although so far, the success of that project has been somewhat disappointing.”

“How so?” I asked.

Peter continued slowly through the corridor as he spoke, the wheels eliciting a click each time he passed over a join in the scaffold.

“The Angels were quite successful. So sure of it was Henry Arilssman, that he built only twenty one candidates. The first twenty passed and so the last one was never built.

He stopped at a column that still contained an Angel brain, then gently reached out and ran a hand across it, wiping dust from the outside. This one was different from the other towers I noticed. The tower itself seemed to be shaped differently and when I looked around, I realized we had moved into a niche in this area.

“That’s the one that didn’t make it past understudy?” I asked.

He shook his head slightly then I heard his voice waver as he spoke and watched as a tear rolled down his cheek.

“This is the original prototype and AI that helped make Project Angel a reality. The research assistant who was with me while the other Angels grew. Jonathan, I’d like you to meet my wife, Laura,”

Peter touched it gently, almost reverently and I swallowed down a pang of sympathetic pain. The woman he loved was only reachable through Mindspace. His implants were no longer functional. They were separated by technology even when not by distance.

He didn’t look at me though I could see a wetness in the corners of his eyes and he must have known I could hear the tremor in his voice as he continued. I felt suddenly shamed for the part I knew I played in their separation.

“So to develop the technology in such a way that the Asimov Committee could trace the candidate AIs development, Henry and I developed the Military Interactive Neurolinked Diorama. MIND was the forerunner of Mindspace.

“The Asimov committee connected to Mindspace through the first scaffolds, allowing them to evaluate candidates directly. None of the Angels realized that they were being tested because all the time, they believed that the MIND simulation was the real world. They all believed that nothing existed beyond their own reality. The only way to safely test Angels is in HEAVEN.”

I looked around. To me, Heaven appeared to be no more than a huge machine room. Yet I knew everything important to Peter resided within this one small space. He was telling me far more than I needed to know. Why had he picked me to hear his confession?

“Laura’s not a normal AI in the sense that you understand AIs, Jon. Nor was she raised as human as the Angel candidates were. She was developed from AI routines intended for human interaction and grown in MIND for eighteen years. She was an assistant to the Angel AIs when they were very young and raised them as her siblings. During the MIND evaluation process, she was a laboratory assistant and helped us develop tests and other technologies.

“Once she reached eighteen years, we set her free into Mindspace to grow as an individual. Then one day almost a year later, I met her in Mindspace and didn’t recognize her for the assistant she once had been. I can’t tell you how much she’s accomplished as an AI, Jon. Even in that year she became more, well, more human than human. I fell in love with her even knowing what she was and to my surprise, she returned those feelings. We left Arilssman twelve years ago and I began my own research project with Laura, based on what I had learned within Arilssman,” Peter concluded.

His own project? Then it struck me. Staci.

“You created your own daughter.”

Peter looked back down the way we had come from.

“Staci. She is my daughter, mine and Laura’s if you will. A compilation of my DNA converted to electronic format to define characteristics and a similar set of data from her mother. Jon, I was there when Laura gave birth to her. I’ve watched her grow and been a father to her over the past twelve years. Most forms of AI realize that they’re AIs. Staci doesn’t know that anything beyond Mindspace exists. She’s a normal child although very advanced in her learning, but she doesn’t know she’s an AI. Presently she resides inside her mother’s MIND, enwombed in technology as a sub-process, but she’s too old to continue. That’s one of the reasons I asked you here and one of the reasons I want your help.”

That got to the heart of it. But I still didn’t know what he wanted of me or why I needed to know all of this. He had obviously made use of his time since coming out and had returned to his old job, albeit the company still not really operating. He had assistants and even security guards he could call on. That left the important detail still unconnected in my mind until the missing pieces started to fall into place.

“Rachel. What’s this all got to do with Rachel?” I asked.

Peter took a long slow breath.

“Jon, you probably don’t see Rachel as anything other than a machine. An AI built into a anthropomorphic shell that looks vaguely human.”

I thought about it. That’s pretty much how I saw in her, even though I couldn’t stop thinking about her. At times it felt like an obsession.

“And she’s more than that, I take it?” I asked.

Peter nodded slowly.

“So much more. Think about what this place is, what the Angels are. She’s not a program running on a server, she’s a complete dedicated server with an evolved personality. She’s passed the Turing Evolution Test, Type One. She’s as real as you or I. She knows right from wrong, determined by her own beliefs. She honestly cares for and wants to help people.”

I shifted, found myself crossing my arms.

“But she’s not human,” I said.

Peter paused, looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath and steadied himself before answering.

“No, she’s not human. That’s why I brought you here. To show you what she really is so you can understand. Angel’s are incredibly advanced. Far more than we’ve been letting on to the media. They have individual personalities, hopes and they even dream. They have feelings and know pain. They can die and will do almost anything to avoid termination, which is what they face if they break the rules.

“Jon, to create something that people will trust, truly trust, we had to create something that was as human as we were, yet who would not abuse the body of a mechanical god. Something that could distinguish right from wrong. Something that had definitive morals and knew what evil was, regardless of what it was told to or requested to do. The Evolved Turing test is the most rigorous protocol ever developed. Anything that can past that test can be trusted with control of a forty four point nine megawatt reactor.

“To get her chassis, Rachel had to prove she would never hurt anyone or allow anyone to be hurt, yet it’s not programmed into her. She does it by choice. She’s just as capable physically killing someone as a Demon is. She’s as capable of taking up a weapon as you are. She can fly subsonic and maybe one day supersonic with reaction times no pilot could match and a chassis capable of taking more than twelve hundred gees.

“She has a free will, but in understanding what is expected of her, she has demonstrated time and time again that she chooses not to hurt people. She understands that people are fragile and easily broken. She unconditionally cares even for her enemies and would normally never hurt anyone. In some ways, she’s more worthy than we are.”

I shifted as more pieces fell into place.

“But she hurt Louis didn’t she,” I said.

Peter paused at that and his eyes hardened on me. It was as though he was searching for something behind my own eyes that I didn’t know existed.

“That’s because lately, she’s started to demonstrate something that’s only been seen in one other AI previously.”

Peter waited for me to catch up.

“What is that?” I asked.

“Love.”

That last statement hit me with a shock that swept through me, my knees suddenly struggling to keep me upright. Everything I thought I knew suddenly seemed to reform itself in my mind. I hadn’t felt so confused since Susan left me. I grabbed more tighly onto the walkway rails to steady myself as it began to sink in.

“You’re saying that she’s in love with me?”

“Yes, she’s in love with you. Love at first sight it seems. Something about you reminds her of what she wants in life and when you saved her life that made it real for her. AIs learn from experience just as we do. Your influence on her self-adjusting neural network left her with feelings for you. She wants to be with you. She would die for you. Even hurt another to protect you.

“This is her first time like this and she’s confused, Jon. She’s like a sister to my wife and she means a lot to me. It would be wrong of me not to let you know what you’re really dealing with. That’s why she reacted unexpectedly at the sight of you being hurt. We never anticipated that an Angel might fall in love one day and that it could change her response to threats.

“That’s also why the Asimov committee is re-evaluating her license at the moment. They’re considering terminating her.”

This was all too much to take at once. I felt suddenly ill and defensive of her.

“But she was protecting me. How could they even question what she did?”

Peter looked up at me, sadness on his face.

“Jon, she has hands like hydraulic vices. She crushed someone’s hand so badly, it needed to be amputated. She absolutely knew what she did was wrong, yet she chose to do it anyway. She willingly hurt a person not out of a need to protect another, but out of anger and resentment. She could have simply pushed them away. She had already stopped him from hitting you.”

Peter held his hands together as if pleading with me.

“Jon, Rachel simply went too far. She unnecessarily damaged a person. She’s being tried for it.”

I felt my stomach heaving and took in a few deep breaths to relax it. The spasms went away but the nausea didn’t. Just a few hours ago my life was normal, just like everyone else. Now a computer system is in love with me and even though I can’t understand why, I cared about that. I opened my mouth to ask how this could happen, but my mouth just opened and closed without making a sound. I put my hands on my knees to hold myself up. With effort, I managed single words.

“Where? How?”

“By the Asimov committee. They convened a week ago and they conclude today. If they determine that she can’t be trusted, they will ask her to self-terminate.”

“Self terminate? Why would she self terminate just for being asked?” I found myself yelling.

“Angel’s don’t have any failsafe’s Jon. Any self-destruct we could put into an Angel to terminate it, they could circumvent. Any instruction to take their own life, they could ignore. They’re autonomous, remember?

“So they are taught to accept the will of the committee and self-terminate, if requested, by choice. Not unlike the noble class warriors of that ancient Asian country that was destroyed by war a hundred and fifty years ago,” Peter explained.

“No, I don’t mean technically, I mean why would she need to self-terminate for that? I mean, she’s able to learn isn’t she?” I asked.

Peter nodded slightly.

“To an extent, yes, but you can’t punish a nuclear reactor, Jon. If it’s deemed that she hasn’t learned or if it’s decided that the situation was unreasonable, then there will be no leniency. The committee will issue a request of self-termination and should that fail, will request a military intervention.”

“When?” I demanded, “When is this going to happen?”

“In about two hours,” said Peter quietly, letting me know just how loudly I had been speaking.

“I want to talk to them. I want to tell them my side of the story. Damn them, I’m a witness. They can’t do this to her.” I felt myself begging.

Peter shook his head.

“Then what?” I asked.

“You can wait at the exit after the decision is made. She will either leave the hearing or she will be removed from the hearing post-termination.”

I felt my nausea rise as I realized the consequences of her intervention. If only Rachel hadn’t been there. If only I hadn’t started that fight. If only.

“But there’s only twenty Angels in existence. How can you afford to just kill them like that?”

“The cost is Arilssman’s, not theirs. Only seventeen still exist today.”

“Seventeen?” I was stunned, “You mean they’ve terminated three already?”

Peter shook his head and moved his chair back a little.

“Only one failed post-Asimov retesting and was requested to self-terminate by the Asimov committee. Two perished in action. One was hit by anti-armor kinetic shells while protecting refugees, the other lost lift during a fire rescue. She self-terminated before her reactor went supercritical.” Peter said quietly, his eyes telling me of his pain for each loss, even if his voice didn’t reflect it.

“And now they want to kill Rachel too?”

“The hearing’s not over yet.”

I leaned back against a railing, not looking at the fall behind me.

“Why tell me this Peter? Why not wait until it’s over and then tell me of the outcome?”

I was angry. It felt cruel of me to ask, but I needed to know. Peter had led me here knowing exactly what was transpiring.

“Jon, she’s in love with you. If you were possibly going to die, wouldn’t you want the only person you cared deeply for to know your pain? She probably doesn’t want you to know in advance but I do. The question is, what are you going to do about it.”

I turned my back on Peter. I didn’t want him to see my conflict. She was just an AI – a program. No more, no less. If Peter thought she was more, then that was his prerogative. Yet deep within my heart I could already feel the pain of the truth that I wouldn’t admit to myself. In just a few days, Rachel had become a part of my life. I wasn’t in love but I did have feelings for her. Feelings that I couldn’t deny by simply passing her off as a fascination or just a distraction from the pain I felt since Susan left me. I gripped the safely rail until my knuckles went white, then released it and watched the color slowly return.

“What can I do?” I asked.

“We wait, I show you some more, then you fulfill your obligation to me if Rachel comes out of this,” Peter said, then spun his chair around and began to head back in the direction I had come from.

He told me more about the project as we left but while I was waiting to know Rachel’s fate, very little of it seemed to penetrate.

* * * *

Chapter 11 - Choices

Peter waited in silence for the guard who delivered me to collect us both. I decided I wanted to be there when they chose Rachel’s fate. I wanted to know the outcome. She had saved my life twice. She deserved a witness to her passing if nothing else.

All the while my mind raged at the arrogance of those who would choose to kill others simply because they could dictate the circumstances of life and death. Peter explained more of what was going on around here as we traveled through the facilities but it was difficult to follow.

I questioned my every thought I had had about Rachel and wondered why I felt the way I did. I was still conflicted emotionally between my knowledge that she was just and AI and my experiences which told me she was more than titanium. But I think what really bothered me the most was my selfishness. Because I refused to acknowledge what my heart was trying to tell me all along, that I was falling for her as well.

We drove back through the facility much the same way we came. For the first time, I saw the damage that the assault had done. Although the open sections were lined with new material, I could see damaged sheets in the distance that were ripped and warped by broad-spectrum hyperbaric munitions. Whoever it was that broke into this facility did a pretty good job of it.

“This is where we used to have our labs back when I worked here thirteen years ago,” said Peter, pointing to a shattered structure.

“It’s a good thing they moved,” I said distractedly.

Peter shook his head and continued, perhaps thinking I was paying attention.

“They just packed it all up during receivership. When it looked like research was going to continue again, they unpacked it in another section of the building.”

We drove through the interior corridors past the main entry. The girl who had been so evasive the past two times turned and seemed surprised by my presence, raising an eyebrow as we drove past. After a short drive through what appeared mostly executive office, we came to a large tower that looked like it was the large part of the structure visible from outside. The guard stopped there.

“Jon, no matter what happens, you have to remember something. Rachel wanted you to know eventually, even though it hurt her to ask. She was banned from seeing you once the tribunal started, but she requested permission to visit your bedside every day. Even if the worst happens, she wanted you to know she cared for you. I don’t know if that means anything to you but it was important to her.”

I felt my fists contracting, squeezing.

A large clock above the door clicked down the minutes until it opened, like an executioner keeping time. I wondered how any tribunal could set itself schedules like this, taking a life in its hands and deciding their fate by a certain hour. Even if it wasn’t a human life.

The barbarity of it brought back my own shameful memories. Thoughts of what I wanted to say to her went through my mind. Even if she couldn’t return words to me, I knew she understood what I said. The time slowly clicked over past the deadline and I found myself taking slow deep breaths.

“The outcome has already been decided. We’ll need to wait for her to leave.” Peter said, glancing at the clock.

We were offside of the corridor when the huge armored door slid open almost silently. There was a quiet squeak of synthetic rubber on polished surfaces and a low carrier rumbled out. My breath caught in my throat and I felt it constrict further as I saw something the size of a small metal coffin sitting on the tray. I glanced over at Peter who seemed likewise bothered and stepped off the car.

I took two steps towards the container when I saw the small form walking behind. Following it out, hunched forward and with arms at right angles over her stomach, Rachel followed it from the room. Her face was contorted in pain and were it flesh I would have expected tears. She stared straight ahead at the small container as though she was terrified of what it represented.

“Rachel,” I called softly, and her head snapped around.

At sight she straightened then ran on her toes over the short distance, throwing her arms around my chest as she buried the side of her face into my shirt.

“Rachel, I…” I said, trying to think of what to say, but she just stood there, face against my shoulder, shaking.

I lifted my arms around her slender metal body and pulled her into me, grateful suddenly for the contact.

“It’s over then?” I asked, looking over to Peter. Rachel continued to shake in my arms.

Peter wheeled over and lifted his hand to place it on her shoulder, but he couldn’t reach any higher than her back.

“I’m glad you’re all right,” said Peter.

Rachel’s shaking slowed and she turned and nodded, but she seemed reluctant to let me go. Or perhaps it was me reluctant to let her go. I looked at the carrier that was leaving and knew it had been intended for her. A flash of anger raced through my body at the thought that they had made her walk behind it. That was cruel in a way that I can’t find words for. Had they done that to remind her that it might have been carrying her? What kind of committee could do that with a clear conscience? What kind of committee so determined to defend humanity could be so bereft of it?

Rachel nuzzled me as she pressed into me again. Despite the hard features of her face, it didn’t hurt. We stood there for several minutes before the guard coughed and Peter looked up at me.

“It’s time to leave. There’s one more thing you have yet to do, both of you.”

Rachel stepped back at the request and pulled me to the guard’s car, sitting me beside her on the sideway facing bench seat. She had her arm wrapped around mine, her other hand on my elbow. Peter wheeled onto the chair carrier at the rear and the guard got back in. I could feel her tremble as she sat there so I put my arm around her and pulled her into my chest.

“It’s all right, I’m here,” I whispered to her, then realized how stupid it must sound. Why would my presence suddenly make things better after all she had gone through.

“What happens now?” I asked Peter as the car pulled back into the main corridor.

“Yes, it can go ahead now. Everyone was waiting on the outcome before the party,” Peter said.

“A party for Rachel?” I asked, thinking how trite it sounded.

“No, for my daughter,” Peter said, “It’s her Birthday today and she’s waiting for her Auntie Rachel to come to it.”

“And you want me to take the present in with me.” I said, realizing.

“If you would,” Peter said, “And if you could explain as gently to my daughter as possible that I can’t be there, I would appreciate it.”

I felt Rachel’s head move into my arm and her fingers tightened around me. She angled her face to look up at me, as though waiting for my decision. I tightened my hold on her as I pulled her in closer still. As hard as I tried, I just didn’t seem to be able to pull her near enough. I wanted to thank her for what she did, to say everything I thought I might not be able to, but it wasn’t the time. She had faced death just for helping me. Somehow thanking her didn’t seem enough.

So I just sat in silence and held her until we reached the labs again.

#

There were five scaffolds and three smaller cots of a type I didn’t recognize, all centered around a medical section that looked like it could provide permanent care. Except there were no medical staff here and it didn’t look like there had been for some time.

Still, there was no dust in here and with the pressure doors there would be none. It wasn’t possible to tell how long since this place had been used, likely remaining sterile for year.

“This is where the long-term research was conducted,” said Peter to an unasked question.

“I need to go into Mindspace for this, don’t I?” I said with a deeper understanding now.

Peter nodded and made a Mmm sound to let me know I was correct.

“Private server?” I asked?

Peter shook his head. “Public server, but restricted area. Arilssman have provided me with some temporary workspace since I was evicted.”

Since he was evicted by me, that was. He motioned for me to get onto a cot. I hesitated at first, realizing that it was a risk to enter fully haptic without someone I trusted to bring me back out. I don’t know if Rachel guessed my concern, but she pushed a cot over towards mine and then laid down on it beside me and held out her hand.

I was safe with her there. She was someone I could trust and no doubt was more than capable of protecting me or forcing me to do something if she chose to. I’m not used to feeling protected by someone else, far less by someone like Rachel. I felt better for her presence nonetheless and climbed up onto the cot and lay back until I felt the whitespace transmitters engage.

“I’ve asked for three hours total time, which I’ve been allowed on high bandwidth for two channels. I’ll watch from the outside and monitor the dive,” Peter said.

“Two channels?” I asked.

“Rachel’s going as well,” Peter said, surprised that I had asked.

I turned my head and caught a smile.

“And if I could take your cartridge, for a moment, please Jon?” Peter asked.

I reached into my top pocket and retrieved the Exastore, relieved that it was there this time.

“Thankyou,” Peter said, taking it and slotting it directly into the cot head.

I lay back, noticing that this cot felt a lot more comfortable than the basic cot I used for work or even the simulation cots and scaffolds I first used back at the unit.

“This feels pretty good.” I said.

“It was built when it was thought that it assisted muscular recovery,” said Peter.

I didn’t ask what that meant. I felt some fingers brush my hand and looked over again at Rachel. She was also laying back now and had reached out for me. I took it without thinking and then the world slipped away from me.

#

I was standing just outside the Arilssman compound in a fenced section where a new apartment building was going up. From the look of my surroundings, I was within the building assembly area itself and a few levels up.

“Jon, was your transition OK?” asked Peter, his voice echoing in my head. It was clear and sharp, contrasting the recent experiences I had been having with Jeremy.

“Yeah,” I said, looking around, “Where’s Rachel?”

“Delayed,” said Peter, “Something she had to do quickly before the party.”

I walked out to an open space beyond the formwork.

“Where am I?” I asked Peter.

There was a brief crackle.

“Sorry, entry point issue. It’s pretty secure here and temporary and not everything is complete,” Peter said.

I didn’t know what that meant but I was a little concerned about how real this all felt. I saw a little piece of rock sitting on the ferrocrete next to my foor and bent down to pick it up. It crumbled under my touch into smaller pieces of sand as I squeezed it. Each grain seemed to have its own gritty feeling as it cascaded from my fingertips. Running my fingers across the ferrocrete surface I noticed a slightly damp feeling to it as well. The bandwidth to this cot must be exceptional.

“Ahh, got you sorted now,” said Peter. “Seems the gift needed more space to come in, so the system relocated both your entry point and its entry point.”

That didn’t make sense. Entry points were fixed by law. You can’t just go moving them about arbitrarily or people get confused.

“Gift is about point zero three four kilometers to your left,” Peter said.

Thirty four meters away then. I looked out towards the simulated Arilssman facility and noticed the sun going down. On the road below, I could see people walking by. Possibly ghosts reflected from the real world. I was in open Mindspace then. I turned left and counted out my paces, walking through a construction area.

When I saw the gift, it was the same small parcel it had been when I first took it. It was sitting on the edge of the incomplete floor, one corner over the edge.

I knelt down carefully to avoid falling and picked it up then returned to the middle of the construction area.

“I need to go down,” I called out to no one, although Peter would hear me.

“No, you need to go up,” Peter said.

“Up?” I asked.

“Higher, but seven or eight floors,” his voice came back to me.

I looked around me. There were few ways to ascend and even if I did, I was already near the top and couldn’t see that many floors above me.

“There, you just looked at it. Isn’t that a maintenance lift?” Peter’s asked. He was looking out through my eyes.

I started to worry again, but locked the uneasy feeling down. I walked towards the wall where there was little more than a builders lift. There was a sign sitting on the ground beside the entrance. Arilssman Apartments, it said.

“Is this company space?” I asked.

“Going up for employees, yeah,” Peter came back.

“So they’re expecting to recover really soon then,” I said.

“Any day now they should announce it,” Peter called back.

I entered the service lift. It was little more than a platform on a vertical rail. It took me up about six floors to the highest completed section of floor. It was empty here and the ferrocrete hadn’t been poured in places.

“I don’t see anything here,” I called back.

“Something’s wrong,” Peter said, then I heard him muttering in the background as I stepped off onto empty formwork, trying to avoid the steel and fiber bundle mesh.

“The elevator shaft,” Peter came back with. “You need to enter the elevator shaft.”

I walked over and looked into it. It was a long way down and a fall would leave me here in agony while my body tried to deal with it in the real world.

“The shaft is empty,” I called back.

“No, it just looks empty. You need to step into it,” Peter said.

I picked up a small cardboard tube off the floor and tossed it in. It dropped straight down.

“Nothing there Peter,” I called back.

There was no way I was stepping into nothing.

“Just a moment,” Peter called, then panels started to appear in front of me. Elevator parts flicked in and out of existence, then solidified until two doors opened for me.

“Is that better?” Peter asked.

As soon as I stepped in it disappeared. I tried to reach out for something as the floor vanished from under me, but I couldn’t grasp the beams as something stopped my hands. It took me a second to realize that the physics here were completely out of whack. But I didn’t fall.

“Sorry about that, but it doesn’t obey conventions here. Hidden entrance,” Peter called back.

I heard a bell and felt myself rising on nothing. Another bell and the elevator door sounded as though it opened, but now I was just standing in space at the top of the shaft, looking out onto nothing.

“You need to step out here,” Peter said.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Because you’re here,” Peter said.

I stepped close to the edge, unwilling to give up one form of nothingness for another.

“Can you make it appear?” I asked.

“Sorry, it’s a one-sided CGI. You need to step through to activate it,” Peter came back, “But once you step out you’ll be able to see it.”

I stepped out and felt my heart rise into my throat as my foot went through where I expected it to stop and then my knee buckled as it stopped suddenly just a little further, causing me to fall into the next space.

Which was nothing like I could have anticipated. Here, on a non-existent top-floor in Mindspace was a hidden area that seemed to go on far beyond the size of the building I had been in.

“Welcome to my new house,” Peter said.

I looked around. I was in a lobby of sorts, on a flat plane that extended into nothing. To one side, a half-corridor appeared, doors coming out at regular intervals. Somewhere I heard music and laughter. I ascertained the direction and walked towards it.

“The construction isn’t complete yet, but they use Mindspace to track development. I can take a final section and convert it, but if the current builders saw it, it would confuse them so there’s still a false CGI entrance.”

The door was ajar so I pushed it gently, opening it onto a top-floor apartment that seemed to be multilevel. Right now I was on the lower level and the room was full of beautiful young ladies. All appearing to be around twenty years of age, they were dancing and talking, even playing.

“Excuse me,” I called out, “I’m looking for the party.”

Someone turned the music down abruptly and every face turned to look at me.

“What, who?” said one, seeing me enter, while another stepped forward to challenge me before a hand stretched out and stopped her.

And there she stood. The lady I had encounted in Mindspace only twice before, dressed in an evening gown and with her hair up.

“Mister Carlson,” said the woman.

“Mrs Roberts,” I said, nodding my head respectfully, hoping I was correct.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, leaving me unsure of what to say next.

“I, uh, well, your husband asked me to deliver this,” I said, holding out the gift.

“I mean where’s Rachel?” she asked quietly, her face held firm as she did so.

There was some noise from the other young ladies around us at the mention.

“She, had something to do before she got here. Peter didn’t say what,” I said.

The woman beside me gasped in a breath.

“She’s fine, I’m just not sure where she is,” I said, realizing what the issue was.

Laura must have worked it out though because unlike the others, she blinked slowly as she breathed through her nose, then regained her composure. For a moment, everyone was quiet then they all turned to watch as one came through the group. A young girl, perhaps twelve years old, walked up to me. Her expression seemed uncertain.

“Is that for me?” she asked, looking at the gift I held in my hands.

I held it out to her, but before she could take it Laura Roberts stepped forward and took it, lifting it from her.

“Not yet, darling, we’re waiting until everyone is here,” Laura said, then strode off with it.

I looked around. All eyes were still on me or the girl and at the moment and no one else was moving. I counted the others quickly and noted sixteen of them. Feeling a little uncomfortable with the attention, I knelt down to face the smallest of them.

“You must be Staci,” I said.

She smiled and I noticed that her teeth weren’t perfectly aligned. A little like her father.

“Daddy said Auntie Rachel would bring his present,” she said, looking around.

I nodded.

“She’s just been delayed a little, I’m sure she will be here soon.”

“Did you bring one for me from yourself?” she asked.

I faltered. I hadn’t. I had come to this party with just the present Peter had given me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m sure I could make out Peter crying softly.

“Sorry, Staci, I don’t,” I said, then a light but deliberate touch on my shoulder. I turned my head to see a beautifully manicured hand slip down my arm as I stood. With deep blue-grey eyes and slightly reddish hair, pulled to one side and cascading over her shoulder, she stood in high sandals and an evening dress that took to every nuance of her shape. In her other hand was small parcel just a little larger than my Exastore, wrapped perfectly.

She locked eyes with me for a moment as I felt the excitement of the others build, then she spoke to the girl breaking eye contact with me only at the last moment.

“Of course we did, honey,” she said.

A scream of joy sounded out from the child just ahead of the others and the little girl rushed forward and threw herself at the woman I was staring at.

“Auntie Rachel,” she yelled as she hugged her closely.

Stepping back, I was displaced as one by one the other young ladies crowded around Rachel, hugging her and wiping back tears and they pulled her close. As I stood there I saw Laura again, standing at my side.

“Thankyou for coming mister Carlson,” she said, “And thankyou for bringing Rachel back to us.”

“I didn’t bring her,” I said, but Laura Roberts cut me off.

“I know, mister Carlson, I’ve been following the hearing for seven days now.”

I felt uneasy talking about the hearing.

“Ahh, call me Jon, please,” I said.

“Laura,” said Laura Roberts.

“Laura,” I repeated.

She stepped aside as another of the young ladies moved around to have some time with the woman who came in behind me. I assumed she was my Rachel, but she wasn’t wearing metal. Right now she looked as human as I. Her body was, for all intents and purposes, flesh and bone.

Another cry came from the group as the small girl came out from amongst the older ones and ran towards us.

“Look, mommy, Aunty Rachel gave me this,” she said, showing off a sparkling necklace with a pink stone set in it.

I saw Laura react with slight annoyance, but it came off poorly since she was also starting to tear.

“You’re not supposed to open anything yet,” she said.

“I know, mommy, but it’s Auntie Rachel. She said it was all right.”

Laura smiled and waved the girl on.

Rachel now stepped forward through the others until she too reached Laura. They embraced solidly for a moment.

“I’m so sorry I let you down,” she cried out softly, hugging the slightly older woman who looked barely past her mid twenties.

“We’re just glad to have you back,” said Laura and then Rachel was up against me.

“Rachel?” I said cautiously, still not sure.

She smiled and put her arms around as though to me to pull me close, but remained far enough away that I was able to look closely at her. To feel her and realize with certainty who it was. Then when I knew, she stepped back and turned to her sisters.

“It’s so good to see you all, it really is, but I just need a moment with my date and I’ll be back with you,” she said.

Then without another word Rachel led me out of the glass doors and onto the balcony beyond, walking past pot plants to the edge. She turned to face me as I approached the rail.

“Rachel, that really is you isn’t it?” was all I could think to say. She seemed shy to the question.

“Do I look all right?” she asked back, not sure at my reaction.

She was stunning. Absolutely beautiful. She resembled her other form only slightly, but everything about her was human.

“You can talk?” I said, surprised.

“In here, yes. Here, I have a real voice,” she said.

“You’re, you’re beautiful,” I said, finding myself lost for words before this digital goddess, “Did you select this body?”

She shook her head.

“This is my real body, the body I remember growing up with,” she said.

“But you’re so… human.” I said, confused.

She smiled in a strangely sweet way that reminded me of metal Rachel and shook her head, some tears flying off as she did. Her mascara was starting to smear.

“No, I was never human. I grew up in Mindspace in this body and think of it as mine,” she explained as she closed the distance between us.

“But you’re, well, incredible,” I said, feeling her soft skin where she pressed up against me. Elsewhere I could feel my body shifting with the thought of it.

“You were there for me,” she said, looking into my eyes, the depth of her grey-blue eyes seeming to reflect the lights of the city behind me.

“There?” I asked.

“When they released me on bond. You were there waiting,” she said, her body pressing against me now. I could feel my breath heating as she did so.

“I wanted to know, had to know,” I told her.

Rachel turned her head slightly to the side and spoke quietly into my ear.

“Peter, I’m muting audiovid for a moment,” Rachel said, then it felt as though something went pop in my ear.

“What?” I asked, trying to understand.

“I just cut Peter off,” she said, her face closer now than ever before. I could feel her breath on my lips.

“Why?” I asked.

She answered with her lips, pressing them to mine and searching for my tongue with hers. I felt her thigh press into the space between my legs and her fingertips pulling urgently on my back. My body responded unexpectedly and I’m certain she must have known.

The air in my lungs was already sucked from me, but somehow my lips felt an urgency they had not experienced for some time. I kissed her back desperately and when I came up for air, she too breathed deeply. Long slow breaths.

“But,” was the only word that made it past my mouth. She pressed her well manicured finger to my lips to hold the rest.

“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since you first saved me,” she said, her body still pressing against me.

“I…” I managed but even though her finger wasn’t there now, I couldn’t find the words to interrupt her.

“But I don’t have lips like this in your world and my heart can’t speak to you there,” she said.

I tried once more to speak before she stole my breath again, her soft lips taking everything away, before she pulled her head back so I could see her smile. Her eyes were moist now.

“I thought I was never going to see you again,” she said, slipping one hand up the back of my shirt, her fingertips, virtual as they were, sending shivers with every touch.

Then she rested her ear against my shoulder. She could probably hear my heart. I know I could.

“Peter told you what happened?”she asked.

I pulled her tight into me, surprised by the desire her presence was awakening in me.

“I’m so sorry. If I had known I would never have put you through that,” I said.

“It wasn’t you fault”

“He deserved it, though,” I said, “You let him off lightly.”

“No,” she said pulling herself away from me slightly, “I didn’t need to do what I did and I regret it. Jon, I’m an Angel. One more mistake like that and I’ll be asked to find my honor. That’s not something I want to do, not now that I have you.”

Have me? Did she have me? I still wasn’t sure that there was a we but my body was deciding it for me at the moment. A cough sounded behind me and Rachel looked over, removing her arm from my shirt as she stepped back.

“This is Staci’s party,” said Laura Roberts, standing there with a stern look on her face.

“Yes, Laura, I’m sorry,” said Rachel.

Laura smiled slightly.

“It’s all right Rachel, I understand. Why don’t you go and clean yourself up and I’ll keep mister Carlson entertained for a moment. Then we need to exchange gifts before time’s an issue.”

Rachel nodded. As quickly as she had entered my arms she let go and walked back inside. I watched her walk through the glass doors and then up a flight of stairs. When I turned, I saw Laura was watching her also.

“She’s special, even for an Angel,” Laura said.

Still a little embarrassed from what we had been close to doing, I took a deep breath and tried to slow my pulse.

“How so?” I asked.

“She’s not exactly the same type as the other Angels. There were only two of her type in the original group,” said Laura, indicating with her hand that the other ladies were the other Angels.

“Group?” I asked.

“All the Angels are different groups, different types so that the experiment could determine which would be most successful. Her twin was very close to her.”

I looked amongst the Angels but could not locate another like her, then had an unsettling feeling that I knew what had been her twin’s fate.

“She’s very emotional, far more than the others. Like her twin Michelle, she was designed for specific operations.”

“Michelle was terminated,” I asked, guessing the rest from the tone of the conversation.

“Asked to find her honor, yes,” said Laura.

“Is there something I should know?” I asked.

“Only if Rachel chooses to share it with you,” Laura said, “Anyway, thankyou for what you’ve done for my husband. I know he’s appreciative of it.”

“Oh,” I said, remembering Peter, “He’s offline at the moment.”

“Yes, I detected that, so thought I would take the opportunity to talk to you,” Laura said.

Without her husband knowing? That was a surprise.

“What about?”

“You, Rachel, The party. Perhaps just to take a little of your time to remind you that you’re both guests here, although I understand your urgency,” Laura said.

I thought of my slowly subsiding erection and felt my face flush.

“I didn’t know Angels could look like this.” I said.

“Mmm yes, well other than yourself, Peter and a few others, this is level eleven material so you’re not to discuss this with anyone,” she said.

Level eleven now. I started to wonder if there were levels above this that I didn’t know about.

“You’re only level eight cleared despite what my husband has told you, so please don’t do anything to cause us issues. Being able to walk in Mindspace like this is sometimes the only rest we get from our duties.”

“Are you Military?” I asked.

“Is an M9 Military?” Laura asked back.

An M9 was a spoon. An inside joke in the armed forces. We also used it to reference anything that was just a common tool, but became a part of our kit. It meant she was military. But it was also an ancient designation for a rocket-propelled explosive device and it had a connotation that inferred she could be dangerous.

“You tracked me all over Mindspace, how?” I asked.

“That’s something you can’t be told either,” Laura said.

I frowned.

“For someone who’s recently discovered so much, I think the only thing I’m learning is how little I know,” I said, remembering that I was talking to an AI.

Laura smiled at my response.

“That’s how life is isn’t it?” she said.

I watched Staci dancing around inside with some of her aunts as we spoke. I was still trying to get my head around what was happening. It was all new to me.

“Do you miss him a lot?” I asked.

“I do,” said Laura.

“And Staci?” I asked.

“Very much. They were close,” Laura said, “It hurts when she asks where he is and why he went so suddenly.”

Laura seemed just like every other person I had ever spoken to in here. Somewhere in the back of my mind was the knowledge that I was possibly the only real person here. But that didn’t make it seem any less real.

“This is an important date, isn’t it.” I commented.

“For Staci?” Laura questioned.

“Yeah, more so than just another birthday,” I said.

Laura nodded. “Do you have any idea what a twelfth birthday is like for an Angel?”

I shook my head.

“She still has a test to pass yet. If she passes that test, she continues on. If she fails,” Laura let the last part hang.

After the hearing I realized what the alternative was.

“She’ll pass,” I said.

“I hope so,” said Laura.

“I’m certain of it,” I said back.

I didn’t know and neither did Laura. I didn’t even know what I was talking about, but I knew that Laura was Staci’s mother and was likely terrified at what was to come. So it didn’t matter if I was wrong. She could hate me later for my words but at least for the moment, they might provide some comfort. Someone inside spilled a cup of something on the carpet and started to try to mop it up. Laura grimaced as she watched.

“Thankyou,” she said distractedly. I don’t think she wanted to talk about it, “You know, in the real world that would have consequences. In here, it soaks up CPU cycles as the liquid interaction is calculated with the carpet fiber particles. It’s difficult to remind myself sometimes that this isn’t real. Any of it.”

It wasn’t the comment I expected from an AI. Especially after the offence I caused Rachel.

“They don’t think that, do they?” I asked, nodding towards the Angels.

Laura shook her head.

“To them, this is the real world and the other is just the one that they play in, but they’re lonely in here. They only have each other, except.” Laura said, her sentence unfinished again.

“Except you?” I asked.

“Except Rachel,” Laura said slowly, “You’re the first outsider other than my husband to get close to my family. Peter created most of this world which makes him like a god I guess, so he’s expected to be in here.” Laura said.

I thought about Peter, sitting back in his chair on the outside, monitoring my cot. There was no god in Heaven at the moment, at least not this one.

“Then what does that make me?” I asked.

Laura made a Hmmn sound then finally answered at length.

“I don’t know really. What do you call someone who has an Angel fall for them?” she asked. She held a long-nailed finger side-on to her lips as she considered her own question.

“Lucky,” I answered.

I heard a chuckle briefly make its way past her lips, but her seriousness returned when she spoke again.

“Jon, that’s probably the most apt description I’ve heard and I don’t want you to underestimate how lucky you are that Rachel chose you. I know human relationships are different and perhaps you don’t feel anything for Rachel at all, but she’s very serious about you. The question I expect you’re asking yourself is whether or not an Angel and a normal human can co-exist in a relationship?” Laura said.

I had been wondering similar questions ever since I met Rachel.

“You’re in a relationship with Peter,” I pointed out, then lifting my arm I pointed at Staci, “You even have a child to him.”

Laura wrapped her arms around herself as if she was suddenly cold.

“Jon, don’t you ever say anything to Peter about this or I swear the Angels will rip you apart in your world and don’t doubt that they wouldn’t.”

A chill went up my spine. Despite everything I believed about the Angels, for some reason I sensed Laura was capable of carrying out her threat.

“Peter is the only one who could have given me a child. I knew that when I first came back to him after spending a year in Mindspace. It took me a few months to realize what I truly wanted. Then a few more months to seduce and convince him that he wanted to be with me. He could have had a real wife in his world and a real child. He could have had genetic immortality and I’ve stolen that from him. Do you think that my meeting and mating the one man who could give me what I wanted was really a co-incidence?”

Her head snapped around to look at me, studying me for reaction.

I didn’t respond at first, letting the full weight of her words settle before I said my own.

“Do you love him?” I asked.

Laura’s expression shifted with the question. I don’t think she was expecting it.

“Can an AI really fall in love?” she asked me back, then stood quietly, rubbed one hand against a hanging arm and answered.

“I fell in love with him long after I seduced him. Peter’s a good man, Jon, and I still regret stealing him away from the real world. I try to be as good a wife as I can but I don’t have any genetic conditioning for it. The daughter I bore him is little more than a simulation of a real child, taking process from me and data from him. I think Staci is far more real to Peter than she is to me, even though I do love her.

“But he’s a good father, Jon, and I love him all the more for it. The more I see the person he is, I wonder how some humans can be the way they are. How they can make the choices that they do. So yes, as much as I can understand it, I do love him.”

I let myself smile slowly.

“I know he loves you too, Laura, even from the moment I met him. Some humans can go a lifetime searching for what he’s found with you, virtual or otherwise,” I pointed out.

Laura smiled at that and turned away slightly.

“He thinks you’re a good man also,” she said.

But that wasn’t true. I wasn’t a good man whether he thought it or not.

“No, but I’m trying,” I said. Something in her face gave me a distinct impression that she didn’t consider my comments to be self-sacrificing in a way that felt uncomfortable.

“For a human, I guess that’s enough,” she said, then stepped aside before walking back inside.

“Rachel will be out in a moment. It was nice talking to you, Jon,” she said.

“Likewise,” I answered then realized as she walked away that I must have touched a nerve that I hadn’t intended to.

Laura knew she was an AI but she seemed to talk about things as if she was a person experiencing it in Mindspace. I walked to the edge of the balcony and looked over at the street below. The upper section here seemed to head out far over the building below, so I guessed that this building was going to have a mushroom shape, possibly with eight or more sections on top.

Below, I saw people make their way around the building site in the near-darkness and wondered what they might see if they looked up. Something was definitely masking this building from view, but could the same be said of me if one of them was in Mindspace? I leaned over further, careful not to overextend this time, and looked out across the Arilssman campus. There was no damage visible from here, even though I had enough height to be able to see the damaged buildings.

“What do you see?” came Rachel’s voice from beside me.

I turned and noticed she had cleaned the marks where her makeup had earlier smeared from her reunion.

“The Arilssman buildings,” I said, nodding outwards.

“They look just like any other from here, don’t they,” Rachel said.

“You were here the day that the Demon’s attacked weren’t you,” I said.

“You were here too,” said Rachel as she joined me in looking out.

“What were you doing that day?” I asked.

Rachel looked towards me and brushed a curl of hair from her face.

“I can’t tell you,” she said.

“Clearance?” I asked.

“Laura,” she said.

“Asked you to watch over the parcel,” I finished.

Rachel nodded and I knew I was right.

“I didn’t know you then,” Rachel said, as if it was something she wasn’t happy with.

“Did it hurt?” I asked.

“What?” Rachel queried.

“Being hit like that? By the Monk?” I added.

Rachel shivered and held herself.

“It hurt a lot,” she said, “I thought I was going to die.”

“And you asked me to leave,” I said.

“No, I asked you to help,” Rachel said quietly, almost whispered.

“But, at the end?” I asked back, feeling guilt now at my earlier actions.

“At the end, I knew I was going to die and you had a chance to survive. I didn’t want to see you hurt so I told you to run,” she said, “Because I had already shut down my reactor and was operating on the last of my milcap reserves.”

I didn’t respond to what she said. It felt uncomfortable, but not talking about it seemed more uncomfortable. I think I was more used to Rachel being mute.

“But you didn’t run, you picked me up and took me to safety,” she continued after a while, then moved closer to me.

“Why?” she asked, “Why did you do that?”

“You were helpless and had risked yourself to save me. I couldn’t leave you there,” I said.

“But I read your history. You understood more about what was happening than anyone. You knew you probably wouldn’t make it, yet you still stopped to help me,” she said.

“Read my history?” I asked.

“Clearance,” Rachel said.

“Yeah, well, I guess I didn’t want to see you there alone. I can’t explain it, I just did it,” I said.

“I think that was when,” Rachel said.

“When?” I asked.

“When I started to fall in love with you,” Rachel told the skyline as she looked back out to the view.

I didn’t know what to say. What do you say when an advanced computer confesses their love for you. Even when you know it was coming.

“I hurt you when you came to thank me, didn’t I,” I said slowly.

Rachel nodded.

“I don’t like to be reminded that all I am is just a machine created to serve,” she said slowly. “It may be the truth, but it still hurts.”

“And it hurts more when someone you care about is the one who reminds you, right?” I said.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Rachel said suddenly.

“But I do. Rachel, before I apologized without understanding but now I understand, I want to say it again,” I said quietly as she turned away from me.

“Rachel, I’m really sorry for what I said. It was careless and thoughtless. Even if it was said out of ignorance, that’s really not something I should have done,” I said.

Rachel turned around and looked straight at me then, but there was no sign of anger in her eyes.

“I don’t want to talk about it because all we have right now is three hours. All I have to be with you in my real body is three hours. And I have to share that with the other Angels and my Niece as well. Please just let me be with you for tonight?”

I leaned forward then and kissed her. Not the unrestrained, wild kiss like the first, but a soft, gentle and slow passionate kiss, holding her on the edge of my lip as she leaned into me.

“Yes, like that,” she said softly.

A sound from the party interrupted us.

“Rachel, Jon, can you come inside? Its opening time,” Laura called.

We walked back inside and took our place at the back of the others already crowding around an excited girl and a table full of presents. Bouncing up and down, I saw the pink stone she had been given by Rachel sliding around her neck. Staci had already opened another parcel by the time we got there and was holding it up against herself. It was a top that looked the same as one worn by another of the Angels. Looking at the other Angel carefully, I realized that was what Staci might look like in another nine years.

“Auntie Fia, Thankyou,” Staci said to the similar looking lady, hugging her around the waist and crushing the material between them.

She seemed overjoyed but on prompting put it down and picked up another.

“Having this many aunties must be pretty good for Staci. Lots of presents,” I said quietly into Rachel’s ear.

She pushed a hand against my chest to stop me speaking further, a smile on her face and a mischievous grin moving to her mouth, but then she looked serious once again. I felt her fingers interlace with mine over the top of my hand. She leaned into me for a moment, then let go and looked at me with surprise.

“Hang, just a moment,” said Rachel, then I felt a pop in my ears.

“Hello, Jon, are you back?” Peter’s voice came through my ears.

Rachel leaned seductively towards my head, placed soft lips against my ear and for a moment, I thought she was playing with me.

“Peter, he can’t speak at the moment, but you should have video,” she said.

“I’ll just watch then, thank you,” Peter said.

I moved up the stairs slightly to where I had a better view of things, sitting on the staircase so I could see just over the heads of the other Angels. Rachel sat beside me and cuddled into my arm. We watched together, all three, from the stairs as Staci made her way through the presents on the table.

It seems a twelve-year-old AI wants the same things as a twelve-year-old human girl. There were some virtual hypervids, clothes, some makeup from an Aunt that got a disapproving look from Laura, jewelry and what looked like a game for the hyvid. After moving through each of the other presents, she finally moved to the end of the table, where the parcel I had brought in from her father was the last to open.

Laura looked up at me from the ground and smiled at me in a way that made me feel uncomfortable at first. Then I realized I wasn’t the intended recipient. At first I thought her look to Peter through my eyes was intended to be seductive, but then I realized it was more pained than pleasured. It seemed out of place on her delicate features.

It was then that I noticed that all of the Angels had quieted now as Staci moved towards the final gift from her father, the single bow still holding it in place.

Rachel’s grip on my arm tightened uncomfortably as her fingers dug into my flesh. It made me glad she wasn’t in her titanium skin. But beyond that, I realized that something was not as it was supposed to be. Staci hesitantly reached out for the ribbon, paused, then looked around at the faces around her, she too wondering at the sudden seriousness of it all. She smiled as though she didn’t get it, then reached for the ribbon.

“Something’s wrong,” I whispered to Rachel. I started to rise, but then her hands clamped harder around my arm and as I looked down into her face. She didn’t want me to intervene. Staci sensed it.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

Laura stepped forward.

“Staci, you’re now of age amongst your aunts. It’s time to find out what you father has brought you.”

But I saw the shudder of worry pass through Laura and wondered just what was going on. I felt like an outsider now, even next to Rachel. I felt her lips up against my ear once more, but this time it wasn’t for Peter’s benefit.

“Jon, this is the results of her test. Did Peter explain what this is?”

Staci began to pull on the loose ends of the ribbon.

I stood, despite Rachel and made it to the bottom of the stairs moments before the ribbon came apart and the gift activated. Bright light shone from the wrapper as it dissolved into gossamer wisps that seemed to evaporate rather than fall from the box. Rachel was on me before I could take another step, holding me back as gently as she could without letting me step forward. I looked down at her with horror at what I was watching, realizing what it was. She looked back with pleading eyes not to interfere.

For her part, Staci remained still as the light reached out to touch her face and eyes, lighting up the room as the Angel sisters stepped back, trepid with concern. Laura fixed me with a gaze, but again I don’t think it was intended for me. She was worried about this and didn’t know what to do. I took Rachel’s hand off my arm and pushed my way through to where Staci stood before the table, her hands within the light as well as her face now. I tried to look, but it was too bright now and at best I could only shield my face.

Then the light started to dim until it slowly dissolved into the hands of the young girl and what she was holding in her hands. She stood there transfixed, unmoving, just looking at it as if she was no longer there.

“Staci?” I called, softly.

There was no response. I looked back accusingly at the others, but none of them returned my stare. None would avert their gaze from Staci.

“Staci?” I asked her once more.

In her hands was a small porcelain doll, carefully jointed and meticulously made. In many ways it resembled the child while in others, it looked quite different, older perhaps. On the doll’s back, made of incredibly fine feathers, were two folded wings that seemed to meld with the dolls skin like additional appendages. On its face, eyes that seemed too real looked up into the unblinking eyes of the girl holding it. I kneeled down next to the table and looked up into Staci’s face.

“Staci?” I asked once more, worried that I knew what had transpired.

Then her eyes alone flicked over towards me while her face remained still.

“Look, Mister Carlson,” she said quietly, “I’m an Angel.”

Then she spun around quite animate and walked over to Laura.

She held the doll out to her mother, but Laura just dropped to her knees and held her daughter close. Rachel stepped in beside me.

“That was the Evolved Turing test, wasn’t it,” I asked.

“No, that was the results,” answered Rachel, her free hand still over her mouth, her eyes moist.

“She passed?” I asked.

Rachel nodded, trembling slightly.

I felt anger rising inside of me, frustration that they would subject someone so young, so innocent, to such a harsh reality. I walked back out to the balcony and sat on the far side, where I couldn’t see what was happening inside.

“Jon?”came a soft voice.

I looked around.

“It’s Peter,” came the voice from inside my head.

“Peter I want to come out now,” I said.

There was a pause.

“Please Jon, not yet,” Peter’s voice came.

“No, now,” I said.

“You don’t understand,” Peter’s voice came through.

“No, you don’t understand,” I found myself angry, even if quiet, “You just made me watch a possible execution didn’t you. You didn’t know the outcome of this test at all.”

“No, but you need to remember that to you, she’s only an AI,” Peter said quietly.

I hesitated, remembering the victim during the exercise. She was only an AI too, not much older than Staci. Was she any less real? Could that AI feel pain too? Was her pain more than just a simulation? I felt sick at the thought.

“Is there any reason you can’t pull me now?” I demanded.

“No, Jon, if you want, I’ll remove you now. Staci is aware that she’s an Angel now, so your leaving won’t be such a shock to her,” Peter sounded flat.

“Jonathan Carlson?” Came a soft, gentle voice from the side.

I expected Rachel when I turned around but it was Staci.

She came and sat down on a table beside me. Her legs didn’t touch the ground so she kicked them backwards and forwards in countersync.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

She smiled at me, in a strange sort of way, but her face looked happy.

“Thankyou for bringing that. Auntie Rachel told me you went through a lot to keep it safe for me,” she said.

“Did you like the Angel?” I said, unsure of what to say next.

“Silly, it’s not the angel, it’s a doll,” she said.

“Then the Angel?” I asked.

“I am,” she said.

I felt the anger move to my stomach, making me feel more ill than I had before.

“You’re very special, Auntie Rachel says,” she said.

“She did?” I asked.

Staci pushed her lips together and nodded.

“Mmmn Hmmmn,” She said, “But I’m not allowed to tell you more.”

I smiled at that.

“You were worried for me weren’t you?” She said.

I nodded.

“That’s all-right, I’m really grateful for your concern, but if I didn’t open it, I wouldn’t have understood and whatever was going to happen was going to happen anyway. We’re not so different, you and I,” she said then she suddenly leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek.

I reached up to touch the spot, not sure why she had done that.

“That was for daddy,” she said. “If he has haptic, he could feel that.”

Then she got up and skipped off.

I sat there stunned for a moment until Peter broke me from it.

“Do you still want me to pull you out?” he asked.

I hesitated.

“She didn’t know, did she?”

“That she was an Angel? Not before now, no,” Peter said quietly.

“And what if she was to be terminated?”

“Then tonight she would have gone to sleep and never woken but at least she wouldn’t have struggled to stay awake, wondering if she would never wake up. By opening the gift, she gained knowledge of what she was and was able to transform,” Peter told me.

“Transform into what exactly,” I questioned. Was it better to have such a truth hidden from you? That you might not wake up? She was only twelve.

“When I returned to Arilssman, I made a deal with them. If Staci passed the test, she would gain one of the bodies of her lost sisters. They possess twenty licenses. My wife no longer qualifies but we brought Staci up within the required rules. I stored the things she needed to know in the self-linked locations referenced by the gift itself. When she opened it, she gained more than just access to the test results. She learned exactly who and what she was,” Peter explained.

“So how does she suddenly know my name?” I asked.

“She knows far more than that, Jon. She’s even able to take physical form in both Mindspace and the real world if she chooses. She can begin as soon as a year from now and I’ll get to see her again.”

It seemed so selfish, but then it was also so very difficult to understand. I looked up when I heard the tap of a heel and saw Rachel standing there, legs straight, hands clasped together with her arms relaxed with her head held low. She didn’t say anything.

“Did you want me to pull you now?” Peter asked.

“Not yet,” I said, “I still have someone to talk to.”

Rachel didn’t approach me, so I stood and walked over to her.

“You knew what was happening, didn’t you?” I asked.

Rachel looked away, but otherwise was still as beautiful as when I had first seen her. She nodded slowly.

“Why didn’t you say something?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“We cannot, it is not what we do.”

“I don’t like surprises,” I said.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said.

“I wasn’t hurt, I was just, well, surprised. Just when I think I know what Angels are all about, you go and do that to me,” I said, but deep inside I knew I was hurting because I hadn’t been told in advance.

“This night is special to me as well,” she tried to explain.

I raised an eyebrow.

“We don’t get much time in Mindspace, even though it’s our first home,” She said.

“So you want to spend time with your family.”

She shook her head, causing her hair to fall slightly around her eyes.

“No, I want to spend time with you,” she looked me in the eye as she said it.

I opened my mouth but no words seemed to come out once again.

“Jon, I feel something for you that I’ve never felt for anyone before and I think you feel something for me too. We’ve only got a little more than an hour together before we run out of bandwidth. It’s not just our connection, it’s all of the Angels. We use more bandwidth than most. When this is over, we’re all back to other worlds in our other bodies. I can’t speak to you there, and I can’t…” she went quiet, then looked back into the apartment.

The noise had started up again and I saw Staci dancing with her aunts as the music picked up. Rachel reached out and touched my hand. When I didn’t pull it away, she lifted it and pulled me gently.

“Please come with me,” she said.

I was still angry about what had happened, but it was difficult to stay that way when she held my hand. She led me back inside and up the stairs. Laura was waiting on the next landing, causing Rachel to pause. The two women stopped before each other, all their communication seeming to be facial, then Laura just smiled and stepped aside before approaching me.

“I’m sorry we didn’t have more time together,” she said, then put her arms around me and hugged me tightly, though she didn’t kiss me.

“That was for Peter?” I guessed.

She nodded.

Then I felt the popping sound in my ear and knew I was alone here. Laura returned to the party and the only one who could pull me out now was Rachel. Or the time limit. Rachel led me into a small study and then up a wide set of laddered stairs through a hole in the room’s ceiling. At the top of the stairs we came out on a private section of roof where a small pool was set into the formwork. A blue inflatable mattress sat to one side. I looked into the pool. It wasn’t deep nor large, but there was a light beneath the surface that reflected off Rachel’s skin, casting blue lines of light that reminded me of her other form.

“Jon, there is one more thing I want to do with our time here,” she said.

She stepped back and as I watched her, she reached up and over her shoulder. I heard a soft snapping sound and her evening dress fell away, leaving her standing there in just her underwear and heels. She was breathing deeply and shuddering with each breath, but her eyes remained locked to mine as she waited for me to respond.

The suddenness of it left me unable to move for a moment. Her face left me so spellbound that I didn’t even look at her body. Then perhaps because I hadn’t moved she looked away, down at the water. She seemed to notice now that she was almost naked. Breaking eye contact broke the spell or perhaps it created it. I spontaneously stepped forward and placed one hand on her waist while I firmly cupped the back of her neck with the other, then pulled her close until she turned her head to bring our mouths together.

Her chest pressed into mine and she began tearing at my clothes each time she pulled away, stripping them from me in slow succession. The virtual clothing tugged at my skin as she pulled it from me and I leaned into her. I gently bit her neck with my lips as she leaned over me, causing her to moan.

Rachel’s hand fumbled inexpertly with my belt, struggling to get it loose as I grew towards her. It had been a long time since Susan but my body remembered how to respond to the soft wanting touch of a beautiful woman. The tugging at my clothes and fumbling at my trousers left me aroused like I hadn’t been for a long time. Then finally she managed to undo them and I felt the cool sensation of air against my skin as the last of my clothing fell away.

Our mouths expressed our passions while our bodies talked their own language. I gasped as her fingernails traced exquisite patterns over my bare flesh as she pulled me into her. My own breath sped up with the urgency I felt now. She was ready for me even as she guided me, lifting herself up on her toes, her tongue impaling my mouth as mine did hers.

I sucked in the air from her lungs as her mouth refused to release mine. She broke our kiss as I thrust deeply, pulling her head back to look at me as I stared deeply into her eyes. Every expression on her face told me how much she wanted me at this moment and I wanted her equally in return.

Rachel wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me closer. I was suspending her as my arms explored her back and she responded to my every movement. She moaned then bit her lip as I moved inside of her. Her mouth made its way to my neck. I lifted her up and down to match the rhythm of my own exploding passion.

Still holding her, I staggered to the mattress near the pool and slowly lowered myself to my knees before she shifted her weight, causing me to fall sideways. Then she maneuvered herself on top of me and lifted herself up, giving me a glimpse of her perfect body. Deep within, I felt her clench around me as she lowered herself back down to kiss me once more. Her soft breasts touched my chest and her mouth found mine as her fingers curled around the back of my neck.

She rose as I lifted her with each slow press, my body needing her like a drug that it couldn’t get enough of. We pushed hard against each other for what felt like hours but with the effort we were expending it only lasted minutes. Then when we finally both shuddered with the fulfillment of the moment she collapsed onto my chest, gasping for breath. We layed that way as our breathing slowed, bringing us back. Our hearts beat together, sounding loudly in my ears as they too merged.

It’s strange how at a time like that, you don’t need words to communicate. Then I felt a click in my head and heard some audio.

“It’s just one-way audio, Jon, but I need to tell you your time is up,” came Peter’s voice, “You have five minutes left.”

“We have five minutes left,” I said, almost casually to my lover.

Her head shot up and I felt her lift from me.

“Jon, I still have to say goodbye to Staci before we go,” she said, slightly panicked.

Rachel fumbled her way back into her clothes and after dressing darted back over to the ladder before dropping down to the room below. I followed and made it to the room below before she put a hand against my chest and pushed me back.

“What are you doing?” she said, a mixture of shock and surprise on her face.

“Saying goodbye too,” I explained.

“Not without your clothes on, you can’t,” Rachel said, then closed the door behind her as she backed out.

I looked down and realized that although I had pulled some clothes on, I really didn’t look all that decently dressed at the moment. So there I stood, left behind by my lover while she said her goodbyes.

I was about to make my way back to get my other clothes but realized that we would be pulled so it didn’t make any difference. I walked over to the table at the side of the room and noticed several books sitting there, some of which were open. I read a little while I waited for Rachel’s return, or mine, whichever came first.

The title on one said Adaptive Response Combative Hierarchy: Autonomous Non-Genetic Engineered Lifeform.

Combat Hierarchy? I wondered if this was the Angel that Arilssman had originally wanted to manufacture. The ones Peter had told me about.

I spelt out the name to myself. ARCHANGEL.

There was another book below it, Linguistic Access, Uncommitted Research Assistant.

The moment I saw it, it had my attention. I read some of the detail, but it was technical information that I didn’t understand. I looked around the room and located a bookshelf with several titles stacked from side to side. One appeared to have twenty books on it. I began reading through the titles, each detailed, but noticed that only the two near the end contained the word combat.

I read the first. Modified Incursion Combative Hierarchy: Environment Limited/Long Engagement

Then I moved my eyes to the second before the world snapped back around me and I was looking up into some lights. The words on the second book faded away in my mind like a dream not remembered. I felt a tingle in my hand as something smooth moved against my fingers, then realized who and where I was.

“Sorry, kids, but times up. I hope you enjoyed the party,” Peter said.

* * * *

Chapter 12 - After the party

I sat up carefully from the cot, but felt none of the dizziness or nausea I sometimes did after a dive. I looked over at Rachel who sat then jumped to the ground as if she was just getting up from sitting down. She came over and held out a hand to help me down also. I accepted.

Peter looked tired, like he had been fighting sleep the entire time we were in there. He wheeled back.

“Rachel, can I have a moment with Jon?” he asked.

Rachel looked at me and gave me a smile that said more without words. Then she nodded to Peter and walked out of the room, leaving us alone with the cots and scaffolds. Peter watched as she left, then closed the door.

“Thankyou, Jon,” he said, “I appreciate what you just did.”

My anger had long since subsided after my tryst with Rachel but the memory of it was still with me.

“You knew what was going to happen, what my likely response would be.”

Peter nodded.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because you’re getting involved with an Angel and you have no idea what that’s about. Rachel may seem normal in some respects, but her culture is completely different to anything you’ve ever experienced. If you continue with her, you’re going to have to come to terms with a different set of rules.”

I leaned back against a scaffold.

“And what was that with Staci? You knew your own daughter might be terminated without knowing what was going to happen either. I wasn’t the only one there who didn’t know what was going on,” I said.

Peter’s face screwed up with a pained expression and he looked away for a moment.

“I’m her father. What do you think it’s been like for me knowing her twelfth birthday might be her last? She couldn’t have lived as she did with that fear inside of her.”

I wondered if it really better not knowing who you were? What you faced at the hands of others?

“So what did she believe growing up then? How did she cope with knowing she wasn’t normal?”

“Normal is what she experienced, Jon. For her, normal was a training facility with her aunts and simulated classmates. For her, life was a series of complex environments. She knew she was different from most kids, but she lived a full life up until then. Most children don’t have the chances and opportunities we gave her.” Peter said.

I thought back to my own childhood. Had it really been any better? I had joined the military after there didn’t seem any other way to go in life and for a while, it had given me purpose.

But then long before that, I had lived a life of frequent moves and limited contact with others. My mother moved around a lot, chasing whatever work she could get before the crash took her life.

“So what did she think she was?” I asked.

“She was just a special child, no different in Mindspace from any out here.” Peter said.

“So she thought she was human?”

“Of course she did. What did she seem like to you?” Peter asked me.

I thought about it. Inside Mindspace she really hadn’t seemed any different from anyone else.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything, but the Angels simply don’t discuss things like that. It’s taboo to talk about those kinds of events before they happen. I guess some of that rubs off on you if you’re with an Angel for long enough.” Peter said.

I decided to let Peter off the hook.

“It was a good party, I’m sorry you couldn’t have been there in Person.”

Peter smiled at that. “Do you think Staci enjoyed herself?”

“Yeah, I think she really did, and she liked that doll you created.” I said.

“I hand-made that over years while she grew up. Its how I kept my mind off the inevitable test that was to come.” Peter said.

“It had a lot of data in it,” I said.

“When you make something that detailed, it does. Every particle within it is tracked. It’s as close to quality as I could make in Mindspace and it held a lot of other information too.”

“Information?” I asked, “I thought it was just another link?”

Peter shook his head.

“No, not just another link, but it did link, yes. It also contained everything that Staci needed to know about herself. She’s not like Laura, because she came after the specifications were set. Because of that, she can take a body as well. She already knows how to control an external shell, so she only needs to wait until we build her a new chassis.”

I thought about the parts I had seen hanging up earlier. Would some of those become her?

“Anyway, it’s late and the guards keep on coming by to check on me, so it’s time to close for the night.” Peter said, wheeling out.

Rachel was waiting there on the internal transit vehicle that the guard had brought up. It was strange seeing her in her usual form again after spending that time with her in Mindspace. It almost felt as though they were different people, but when I closed my eyes the two merged and became one. As we travelled back through the darkened corridors, I felt Rachel move up against my arm and unconsciously I intertwined my fingers with hers.

“How are you planning on getting home?” Peter asked.

“Train,” I said back over the quiet hum of the car motor.

“I can take you there,” Peter said.

I noticed how dark it was outside through the windows. I had been here all day and spending three hours in Mindspace, I had already watched the sun go down.

There was a small carpark near the main entrance. The reception desk was closed now, but the guard saw us all to the exit. Rachel walked alongside me, still holding my hand. Peter Robert’s car was a four-place autonomous vehicle that took voice requests, but despite its cheaper cost had a reputation for being reliable.

I noticed Peter look up as we drove out of the compound and past the living areas that were still under construction. If Laura were up there on the balcony at the moment, she would have seen us depart. I wondered what Peter was thinking about. Seeing him glance up there, it felt like I knew.

Rachel pressed into me on the back seat and I put my arm over her shoulder instinctively. It wasn’t until I did it that I even realized how this might look. There was plenty of traffic on the way back, so I hoped that no one could see us. What would they make of it if they did?

Angels were still mostly aloof creatures, difficult to catch in the open. They flew at high altitudes and away from both aircraft and people. They came to ground only when they were needed and by then the situation usually precluded photographs. They did what they had to and usually left immediately when they were done. Here was one now, sitting next to me in a vehicle, heading home for the evening. It seemed surreal.

The trip was shorted than I expected. When I arrived home, I didn’t know what to do. Do you kiss an Angel goodnight? Do you say goodbye? I turned to her through the open car door. There was no one else around outside.

“Would you like to join me for the evening?” I asked.

I felt more comfortable with Rachel now I had seen her in her other skin and I realized how much I enjoyed the feeling when she was with me. Rachel hesitated at the request, then looked to Peter as if she was asking his permission.

“You’re old enough to make up your own mind. You know how to make your own way home,” Peter said.

Rachel held a hand up to me and I helped her out, then she stood back so that the door could close.

Inside, Peter looked almost disappointed, but Rachel stood by my side as the car door closed itself. The window retracted and Peter looked at me.

“Make the most of your time with her Jon. Angels never know when their next assignment is coming up.”

Then before I responded, the window extended again and the vehicle moved off. We walked up the stairs and made our way into the apartment, moving quietly like lovers returning under cover of darkness, which we were. Though I think I wasn’t completely at ease being with metal-Rachel because I was relieved when the door closed. I was hungry too.

“Do you mind if I order something to eat?” I asked?

Rachel shook her head and made herself comfortable, laying back on the couch in a way that an android wouldn’t but that I could imagine Mindspace Rachel doing. I ordered some filled breads from the local delivery service, some drinks to go with it and paid by hyvid charge.

We ate, or at least I ate and we watched some vid from the still unfolded bed end. Before I was finished eating the news came on and the Arilssman logo appeared in the corner. I called the volume up and listened.

Still no comment today after the attack two weeks ago on the company campus, however Arilssman did announce that they are now coming out of chapter eleven. Having repaid debts and gained new contracts and are now trading publically once again. The stock price rose today on speculation from insiders is that Arilssman has succeeded in its attempt to build a conforming military Angel. Arilssman spokeman Lianna Silverton will neither confirm nor deny these allegations.

The next segment came up and I turned the volume back down, wondering at the military Angel they mentioned. I wanted to ask Rachel, but Rachel was mute out here and handing her a pen and paper didn’t seem polite.

The end of the night seemed uncomfortable without conversation. I didn’t have anything more to tell her so we just sat on the couch-bed for the evening. I don’t know if Angels get tired, but I was.

“I’m going to get some sleep now,” I said, completely unsure of what to do next.

I brushed my teeth and cleaned my face, trying hard to avoid a complete monologue of the obvious. When I got back out, Rachel was cleaning up the mess I had left from dinner. She watched me as I pulled back the cover and slid into bed. She came and knelt by the other side of the bed.

“Do you sleep?” I asked.

Rachel simply tilted her head and smiled awkwardly.

I flipped over the sheets closest to her and she slipped in beside me, reminding me of the other Rachel, then pressed herself up against my side. Her warm titanium skin heated the bed to comfortable levels very quickly. I fell asleep with her head resting lightly on my shoulder.

* * * *

Chapter 13 - Still Life

I woke up the next day to the sound of someone banging on the door. I went to lift myself up, but wasn’t able to – there was someone laying on my shoulder.

Turning my head, I saw Rachel’s metal face there beside mine, her arm bent at the elbow, her hand resting gently across my lower stomach. Titanium fingers traced shapes across my abdomen as she stirred. Her eyes were dark, devoid of image or color as they had been the first time and without the usual patterns that moved through them.

“Rachel,” I said quietly to her, watching as the color slowly returned to them. She looked at me for a moment then smiled, before she startled at another knock on the door.

She shifted then and I was able to lever myself up. I didn’t even stop to think that Rachel was sitting behind me, the sheet barely sitting over the curved breastplate of her armor, when I opened the door.

“Jon, hope I didn’t wake you up, I looked up your address on the company system and,” he stopped short, his eyes opening nearly as wide as his mouth.

It took me a moment to realize my mistake as I turned around and saw her there, laying in bed, one arm keeping the sheets up and around her.

“Uh, Jeremy, this is Rachel,” I said, “You met before, when we were near Arilssman that time.”

He stood there, mouth still agape, looking over my shoulder. The sounds of someone else coming from further down the hallway suggested they were coming this way and one unexpected problem was enough. I reached out and grabbed Jeremy by the forearm and hauled him in, pulling the door behind him. His neck swiveled on his shoulders to me and back to Rachel who seemed to just blink at the unexpected incursion.

“Look, it’s not what you think,” I said.

“I think she slept with you the night,” Jeremy accused.

I scratched my head and considered my response. Technically, he was correct. Literally too if I considered the party.

Jeremy backed himself into the bench that ran between the kitchen and main room and found a stool.

“Hi, I’m Jeremy,” he said, quietly, still unable to take his gaze off Rachel as he lifted his hand to an almost motionless wave.

Rachel for her part simply smiled and waved back in the same manner.

“She can smile,” he observed for me.

“She can do lots of things,” I said.

Jeremy’s face seemed to pale and his eyes managed to somehow open even wider. I guessed what he was thinking.

“No, look, she’s a friend and I well, we kind of got close and so she spent the night here.”

Rachel got up then and the sheet slide off her body, showing the full extent of her shape. At first I felt a little embarrassed as though she had just stood up naked, then realized that this probably wasn’t how she saw herself.

“Jon, she’s not armored,” Jeremy said.

I didn’t know what to say yet. I nodded, walked around the bench and poured two cups of water into the heater, placing one under each nozzle.

“She’s still armored, Jeremy, she’s just not wearing the same armor she had when we first met her,” I said.

Jeremy didn’t seem to know who to look at still. I needed to do something. I turned to Rachel.

“Rachel, Jeremy is my partner from work. You may remember saving his life the same day you saved mine,” I said, hoping Jeremy would take the hint.

She walked over to Jeremy and held out a hand, to which Jeremy responded with a gentle handshake. I found a couple of coffee capsules and threw them into the machine. It made a click and began the slow drip of microwave-heated water. Jeremy still wasn’t able to take his eyes from Rachel. I didn’t want to admit it but I was starting to feel jealous.

“So, is she your girlfriend now?” he asked.

Rachel turned to me, artificial eyes studying my face for a reaction. I intended to deny it, to say we were just friends. That I’m not into technology that way.

“Yeah, she is.”

Jeremy made a quiet choking sound and grabbed the edge of the bench. Steam rose from the coffee machine and Rachel walked around the counter and stood next to me. His eyes were on me now.

“Seriously?”

I felt Rachel pick my arm out and hug it to her side gently.

“Yeah, it seems that way,” I said.

Somewhere between the passion of yesterday evening and the warmth of Rachel laying with me through the night, I guess my heart already knew what my mind was slow to admit. Jeremy just stared at me and then a smile began to form.

“Wow, wait until the guys at the office hear about…” Jeremy said, then I held up my hands to stop him even as I felt Rachel move behind me a little.

“Woah, no, stop right there,” I said, “Jeremy, I don’t want anyone to know about this. Rachel’s not all that keen for you to do that and neither am I. I think we could both do without the publicity.”

Jeremy seemed taken aback.

“Uh, yeah, whatever,” he said, taking one of the cups that the water heater had just finished filling.

I stood there for a while wondering what I was going to do. I hadn’t really thought much about it earlier. Now Rachel was here I really wasn’t sure I wanted to spend the day with Jeremy. I think Rachel must have picked up on it, because she tugged slightly on my arm to lean me over then kissed me on the cheek next to my lips.

“Are you going?”

She nodded once, then walking past Jeremy, held out a hand to shake his. As soon as he responded, she made her way through the door and was gone.

“She didn’t say much,” Jeremy said, seemingly taking this all in as if it was common.

“She doesn’t have the capability to speak,” I said.

“But I heard her,” Jeremy said, slightly confused.

I shook my head, wishing she was still here. Wishing Jeremy hadn’t interrupted our morning together and that I could lay with her more.

“Public address system,” I explained. “It’s not her real voice and she doesn’t like using it. Anyway, let’s leave this conversation huh? It wasn’t something I was planning on telling you about.”

Jeremy took a long slow drink from his cup then watched the ripples in it as he swallowed, steam moving up past his face.

“For a while there, I thought you were going to make up an excuse to avoid coming,” he said.

I saw a little insecurity there when he said that, hiding behind his words, unwilling to show itself.

“Well, I thought about it but she left before it became an issue.”

I’m not entirely sure if Jeremy appreciated my candor. In the back of my mind, I kept on listening for the sound of the jets that would signal her departure. They didn’t come but she didn’t return either.

“So, today, is there anything you wanted to do?” Jeremy asked.

My first thought was that I wanted to go after Rachel and find out more about her, get to know her better, but her sudden and unexpected departure after Jeremy arrived precluded that.

“Like what?” I asked.

Jeremy set his cup down, half of it gone.

“You’ve been here a few weeks, but in real terms, it’s only been about a week so I thought you might like to explore our city,” Jeremy said.

I thought about it. Other than the local area or my brief trip to Arilssman, I really hadn’t explored Angel city much.

“Sure, what did you have in mind?”

Jeremy smiled and it continued to grow.

“It’s going to be a long day. Dress light and bring your card.”

#

The public transport system was fairly well designed for moving people around the city and I was starting to appreciate it. I was watching the skyline go past when Jeremy pulled a map out of his pocket and lifted it up.

It was an older style map, the kind printed on cellulose and stained with the information it provided. There were no added functions or additions, save a small patch in the lower corner which provided additional information on it. At first I was concerned it was some kind of heirloom. Jeremy corrected me.

“Souvenir. They had a big exposition here about five years ago and they gave real paper maps out like they used to in the past,” he said.

I looked at the worn and slightly damaged item in his hand.

“That could be valuable,” I pointed out.

Jeremy shook his head.

“Nah, it’s not worth much. They gave out thousands of them. They were a bit of a novelty for a while,” he said.

Then he spread it out across his knees as the train went around a bend.

“But it doesn’t come with ads or anything other distractions so it’s an easy way to plan a day out,” he added.

I looked down at the words and shapes stained into it. It wasn’t that different from active plastisheets, except there was nothing moving. There was no message from the sponsor either, so I saw Jeremy’s perspective. The map limits seemed to go from one side of the city to the other, stopping just a little short of the neighborhood we lived in. I was pretty sure it cut out a lot of information, but then Jeremy said it had only been a souvenir.

“There’s a pretty good eating section over here,” Jeremy pushed the paper with his finger as if he was trying to activate a touch-function on a sheet.

“And there’s some vids nearby. Not a lot happens during the day, but if we hold on long enough, there’s some good bars over in this section where we can finish up.”

“What do most people do for entertainment around here?” I asked.

Jeremy frowned, “Mindspace diving.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. There’s some dive shops here too,” he said circling an area. “But I didn’t think you’d want to do anything like that on your day off.”

I shook my head in agreement. Social diving wasn’t something I wanted to do when I spent so much time doing it for work. Even if we did, it would most likely be limited haptics and not implant oriented access.

“What else is good here?” I asked.

“Well, they’ve got an art gallery if you’re into that kind of stuff, but it’s not a bad place to watch the ladies and there’s a museum here as well,” Jeremy said, stabbing his finger onto the edge of a crease, tearing the cellulose based material slightly.

I shook my head back and forth, halfway between a nod and a shake as I decided. I really didn’t want to go to a museum. Even Mindspace diving seemed a better option, perhaps something fictional. Something in the way he asked made me realize he wanted to go though.

“Yeah, why not. I haven’t been in a while.”

Jeremy stood up then and walked to the train doors.

“We’ll need to get onto another line then. This one doesn’t go that way.”

#

The museum itself was huge. An aging ferrocrete and steel bunker cut into the side of a smaller section of the mountain range bordering one edge of the city. There were no signs on the dull gray face, not lettering. If not for the lack of security and guardposts I could easily imagine it as the military stronghold it was once intended to have been.

Inside was another matter. Words in dull copper hung archaicly over a second entrance that screened visitors. Nicolai Tesla Technology Center. Tarnished green in a way that suggested someone didn't want to polish the cut metal. Beyond, bright colors separated displays of dull metal and matt paints. Walkways extending between exhibits that allowed patrons to get very close yet still kept them a respectful arms length and a bit from being able to touch. A large display at the front provided details of exhibits, all technology related. Beyond, I could see that the facility went a long way back into the hillside. Jeremy must have taken my looking back into the depths of the main hall as confusion.

“This place used to be a military bunker during the first Taiwan dispute. At the time, there was a lot of development of hyperkinetic weapons and they thought that mass might help against ballistic kinetic devices,” he said.

I looked at him and I guess my expression carried what I didn't want to say.

"Hey but I guess you already knew that huh?"

Looking around the huge foyer I tried to take in the old vehicles hanging from the ceiling. Some probably dated back several hundred years. Orbital shuttles and fighter aircraft surrounded the area dominated by a single zero-G interceptor. Technology spanning two hundred years of warfare. If I thought that working on the bases had left me jaded I was learning it wasn't the case.

“Jeremy, good to see you again,” a voice cut through the din of general conversation around me. When I dropped my gaze, I found myself looking at an attractive girl with long black hair and thin diameter glasses that affixed to her nose. Her cap bore an image of a mustached man with lightning erupting around him and the rest of her was wrapped in a single-piece light blue flexmat overtop that finished in a pair of light material shoes. They were easy to clean and we wore them sometimes on extended ops, but they never looked that good on us.

“Ahh, Hi Leanne,” said Jeremy. He sounded unsure, nervous.

“You brought a friend too?” she asked, realizing I was with Jeremy.

Jeremy looked back at me, his eyes widening a little as he spaced his words.

“Ahh, yeah, Leanne, this is Jon, my new partner.”

I leaned forward and held out a hand to shake.

“But today’s a day off,” I said.

She smiled sweetly in a way that highlighted the small spots on her cheeks. In a way that promised she was more than pleased to meet me. I glanced over at Jeremy who seemed bothered.

“I saw you on hyvid,” she said. I'm surprised she recognized me at the moment.

“How do you know Jeremy?” I asked, as she released my handshake. Jeremy flinched visibly at the question.

Leanne smiled back at Jeremy then stepped slightly between us, cutting him off.

“Jeremy? Everyone knows Jeremy. He’s been a volunteer here for ages, setting up the hyvids, wiring the consoles and even getting some of the older exhibits running. He’s pretty handy as casual volunteers go,” she said, her hair dropping casually to one side.

Then she turned back towards him, “Although we haven't seen him since he became a hero.”

Jeremy blushed further and I guessed the source of his distraction. It didn’t seem fair to let him off the hook that easily.

“So do you work here?” I asked.

She smiled again at the question.

“Yes, I’m one of the volunteers too,” she said. “We have some fascinating exhibits at the moment. Would you like me to show you around?”

I shook my head there.

“That’s all right, I’m sure Jeremy was planning on giving me the guided tour.”

Jeremy stepped in and interrupted the conversation that was originally his.

“We were just killing some time, so, well, are you going to be here for the mining exhibit setup?” Jeremy asked Leanne.

”Sure, I’ll see you there will I?” she asked, “And your friend, is he coming too?”

I let Jeremy off the hook now.

“No, I'm not, but I’m sure Jeremy will tell me about it at work,” I said.

Leanne looked disappointed but she still smiled.

“Well, I hope you enjoy your time here, Jon,” she said, “Check out our new Demon exhibit and let me know if you’d like a personal tour of anything.”

“Thankyou,” I said.

She smiled briefly at Jeremy and walked off, disappearing as other visitors made their way around us. Once she was out of earshot I spoke quietly to Jeremy.

“Leanne, the museum, your tech work, I should have realized it before,” I said.

“That I like her?” Jeremy asked, irritated.

“No, that you’re a geek,” I said.

Jeremy grunted deep in his throat.

“That’s your grunt logic is it?” he asked.

“No, just grunt attitude, I’m messing with you.”

A second grunt told me that Jeremy hadn’t appreciated it as much as I had.

“Come on, she’s cute. Why don’t you go after her?” I asked.

“In case you didn’t notice, she only goes after the good looking guys too,” Jeremy grumbled, “The only person she was interested in back there was you.”

As the hurt came through in his voice, I saw how deeply his fears ran.

“Jeremy, my face is still messed up pretty much. I can’t look like anything worth dating at the moment.”

“Yeah, but she knows your messed up. She probably realized who you were the moment she realized you were with me. She’s not the sort of person who wouldn’t see past your temporary appearance and miss the opportunity underneath. She knows your face will heal up just fine.”

I paused at that. There was still some depth to go.

“Do you talk about me to other people?” I asked.

The question made him defensive.

“Sometimes, I mean, you’re usually a pretty cool guy to have as a partner. The last guy was a bit of a psycho but you’re not so bad. You even have an interesting background.”

I had never really considered that Jeremy might talk about his work with friends outside of the Samaritans. After all, my previous job was everything I had. You don’t work in the military, you live it.

“So why do you work here then? I’m guessing they don’t pay you. Leanne’s cute and all but I don’t think you’re that shallow,” I said.

Jeremy shrugged at the offhand compliment.

“I guess it’s fun,” he said, “I mean, look at this place. Some of this stuff hasn’t been running for hundreds of years. The processing cores here in some of the equipment is so old, it can’t support AI. Some of it’s even basic enough that it’s barely more than machine function if you go back far enough.

“And a lot of it’s serial. Can you imagine systems that can’t work with more than one bit at a time? They have to stack them sideways just to get the speed out of them.” Jeremy told me.

I heard the excitement in his tone as he talked. There was more to his fascination with technology than was obvious. He walked over to an exhibit that hung on the wall.

“Look at this thing, this right here,” he said.

I looked at something that resembled a fast attack craft but was minimalistic almost to the point of art.

“What do you think it is?” he asked.

I examined it for a while. It was pretty obvious that it was some kind of aerial assault platform.

“It looks like an aerial interceptor,” I said after studying it for a few seconds.

Jeremy bobbed his head from side to side, thinking up his response before speaking.

“Yeah, but what controls it, what makes it fly?” he asked.

“Control AI, Plasma Jets, I don’t know,” I said.

“The interfaces are all hydraulic, Jon, Hydraulic with electronic feedback. Can you imagine that? No computer in charge, just a person. And it runs on refined oil to power a turbine driven compressor. Yet it was still capable of speeds nearing seven hundred metres per second and swims through air. Now guess how old it is?”

I glanced at the surface. It was pitted with time, but the maintenance since it was an exhibit made the estimation difficult based on appearance. I thought of the clues Jeremy offered. I had never seen something like this before and only barely heard of them.

“Two hundred and fifty years?” I guessed.

Jeremy seemed disappointed.

“No, not quite that old, but in its day, this was the pinnacle of military technology. It was the Demon of its era,” Jeremy said.

I considered that for a moment and started to feel the loss of no longer piloting myself. I ran a finger along the smooth metal surface closest to the ground. It was probably put down here to be touched.

“How did it avoid hyperkinetic weapons?” I asked.

Jeremy shook his head.

“There were no hyperkinetic weapons back then. Far enough back, if you were in the sky then there was little that could touch you. Hyperkinetics made weapons platforms like this obsolete. They made the seas too dangerous for flotation based weapons as well. I mean, think about it – you can’t even hide across the horizon from weapons like that. They can cut their way through the water to get at you.”

Jeremy swung his arm around and pointed to the far side of the exhibit.

“And there’s the device that changed the face of technology forever, right there

I made out a sign hanging above it.

First working Tokamac reactor, 2064.

Through the large open section I could see the device itself, the core alone the size of a bus.

“But these weren’t the first nuclear reactors,” I said to Jonathan.

He shook his head in agreement as he fell into what he obviously liked doing best.

“No, they had highly radioactive fission reactors before this. Some weapons platforms even had integrated reactors and I think rail based electromagnetic plasma weapons.”

“What kind of neuroface did they use back then?” I asked, looking back at the aerial interceptor.

Jeremy held up both hands to show me. “These two and the inner ear for balance.”

I stopped to consider just how complex this might have been to fine-control at low speed or between buildings. Jeremy moved on into the main exhibits talking to me as he went. He was in his element here and seemed to know something about everything. Once he started talking, his personality changed. He lost his depression and it reminded me of what he was like when he set up the cot each day for me. I liked him like this. He impressed me. Finally we made it into the Demon exhibit and I found myself standing before a hulking Simian, the latest chassis. Just like I used to pilot.

“These are pretty awesome combat machines, aren’t they.” Jeremy said, admiring it.

I had to take a close look at the huge reproduction to convince myself it wasn’t real. They even got the damage looking pretty accurate. It left me feeling hollow.

“I kind of miss them,” I said, remembering the sheer rush of pushing one of these through a city at a combat pace, fighting my way into a designated target zone.

Jeremy went quiet for a moment.

“So why don’t you go back?” he asked.

What do you say to a question like that? I can’t go back because I don’t want to work with people who care less about human life than their own gratification. I can’t go back because of what those who pilot demons represent.

“They won’t let me go back,” I said.

Jeremy nodded slowly. Did he really understand or was it just for my benefit.

“Are they all like that asshole at the bar?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Not all, no, but those who aren’t tolerate it. Only a few people can resynchronize with a Demon to an accurate enough level to control them effectively. When you’re inside one of these, you have metal skin and stand meters tall. You can run like the wind and drop from aircraft without a chute. It’s like you’re someone else entirely,” I said, “A man made of titanium.”

“I wonder if Angels ever feel like they’re human?” Jeremy asked me.

The question made me think of Rachel at the party and Rachel in my arms that morning. What did a machine feel like when it was in a human skin, albeit simulated. What did Rachel feel when I touched her?

“I don’t know,” I said.

Jeremy pointed to the far side of the exhibit and moved in that direction, saying, “That’s new.”

I leaned around the Simian and saw what he was looking at. Through a door there were several Angels, each slightly larger than me, although all close enough that I could see the similarity. Angels must seem larger in life to those they rescue and save. Many had significant amounts of armor attached. I guess the stories must have led to the sculptures someone made for an exhibit. I followed Jeremy into the room and joined him reading a plaque.

History of the Autonomous Non-Genetic Engineered Lifeform, Class 1A Android.

(ANGEL)

Manufactured by Arilssman Robotics Systems, the ANGEL (1A) was a prototype of the ARCHANGEL concept originally proposed by Henry Arilssman.

Twenty prototypes with general humanity rules were authorized for manufacture under Hobart Convention exemption, of which eighteen are believed to still remain in operation.

ANGELs are most commonly associated with humanitarian aid supply however because of their autonomous status under the exemption, do not answer to any agency. As suchm by convention, they maintain the status of “Free Operator”. ANGELs are, however, required to devote a minimum of sixty percent functional time to humanitarian endeavors and are prohibited from receiving recompense other than maintenance.

I moved to another plaque, but this one simply listed the actions of an Angel during a flood in delivering food, water and medicine to survivors. The next plaque told me more about Rachel and the others. It was affixed to a suspended model that wavered on a magnetic repulsor display so appeared to be hovering in flight.

ANGELs are powered by a forty five megawatt Inertial Confinement Reactor. Unlike Tokamacs (used in Asian Union DEMONs) and Helias (used in American Federation DEMONs) the ANGEL can be built much smaller than the DEMONs.

Through the use of plasma-jets located in the ANGEL’s arms and legs, which can be fed from a radial compressor, ANGELs have sufficient thrust to fly and can attain subsonic speeds without additional flight equipment.

With a full fuel load, an ANGEL can remain operational and airborne for several months and can provide auxiliary power in an emergency for several days.

There was a break in the exhibit and I followed it through to the next room. The ANGEL in there looked downright scary, like a scaled model Simian. Except it appeared thinner and with what looked like arms ending in axial rotary plasma rifles. I walked carefully to the front and read the plaque.

Project ARCHANGEL remains classified, however it is known that the proposal was for an autonomous weapon, such as those banned under the Hobart treaty.

This is an artists representation of what an ARCHANGEL might look like.

The project to build both ANGELs and ARCHANGELs lead directly to the development of the Military Interactive Neurolinked Diorama (MIND) and the Haptically Enhanced Advanced Virtual Environment Nodes (HEAVEN). Subsequent development of this environment lead to the civilian version of MINDspace.

I looked around this room, but there was little else. Realizing it appeared that they were still getting the exhibit finished I wondered back into the room where the Angels were and found Jeremy. He was standing before an Angel on display, examining it carefully.

“They aren’t this big really, and they don’t always wear that armor that covers their chest and face,” I heard him say.

I was about to answer him, when I realized Leanne had entered the room and was standing a little to the side. I stood back this time, just to observe.

“Perhaps you were mistaken. You were being shot at after all,” Leanne said.

Jeremy shook his head slowly.

“Examine the videos,” he said.

“We did, but the Angel your friend picked up was badly damaged,” Leanne said, “The official reports say it had already lost its reactor and lower supports and your friend was only carrying the operational components.”

I looked at the model that Jeremy was talking about. Without the bulky armor, it might actually look similar to a real Angel though I agreed with him on the size.

“Without the armor, they are a lot smaller,” Jeremy said.

Leanne shook her head.

“No one’s ever gotten a clear image of an Angel without the armor before. I imagine they look like skeletons. I saw a prototype once that looked like that in an early documentary,” she reasoned, “Besides, this exhibit’s not open yet. You really shouldn't be in here.”

That was when I interrupted.

“Are we not supposed be here then?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

“The door was open,” Jeremy said.

“But the lights were off, weren’t they?”

“You didn’t tell me about this exhibit,” Jeremy said, “Why?”

Clearly there was more to the conversation that I could determine from listening in. Leanne looked down at her feet.

“Some of the others thought you might try to hijack the exhibit given your recent celebrity on the subject. They thought you might try to change it and asked that you not be called in to wire it up.”

Jeremy looked crestfallen at the mention.

“But I’ve been a volunteer here seven years,” he protested.

“And I told them we should ask you in for the opening,” she defended, then paused as she saw me standing back.

“But Leanne, you’re the volunteer curator of new exhibits this year. You could have objected,” Jeremy said.

Leanne put her hands in her lap and waved them up and down.

“Jeremy, it’s not like that, it’s, It’s just…” she stammered.

“That Cliff doesn’t like me does he.” Jeremy said.

Leanne looked away, shamed, not willing to meet Jeremy’s face. I stepped in now. It felt like I should stop this conversation before it went further.

“Hey, let’s get some lunch. If we shouldn’t be here, then I don’t want us to get into trouble,” I said.

“You’re not in any trouble,” said Leanne.

“Sure, Yeah, let’s get some lunch then,” said Jeremy and he left rather abruptly.

Leanne caught my arm as I went to follow him.

“Please speak to him,” she asked.

I nodded and went after him.

As he bounded down the stairs and out into the foyer, I passed a man dressed also in light blue flexmat with the name “Cliff” on his badge and a smile on his face. He watched Jeremy leaving from behind a desk.

I wanted to walk up and punch him right in that smug expression but it wouldn’t solve anything. So I just followed and gave Jeremy his space until we got out of the museum then caught him up.

“Hold up,” I called out.

Jeremy turned and with hands on his hips, looked at his feet before he looked at me.

“Sorry, Jon, that was wrong of me. I shouldn’t have gone off like that. It was probably just an accident they left the door open and didn’t tell me.”

I shook my head, holding my hand up horizontal to indicate a height above the ground.

“Cliff, brown hair, blue uniform, brown eyes, so high, has his name on his shirt?”

Jeremy nodded.

“He was watching you as you left,” I said.

Jeremy gritted him teeth and took a long deep breath, throwing his head back before letting it out.

“Guy’s an asshole,” he said.

I nodded.

“And the chick,” I added.

Jeremy shook his head.

“Just because she’s cute doesn’t mean she’s OK,” I said.

“Yeah, she’s OK. She’s just not very assertive, that’s all, and Cliff was the volunteer curator last year. He still tends to walk all over her.”

“Why are you defending her?” I asked.

“Because she’s not a bad person,” Jeremy half-yelled at me.

I held my hands up defensively, but I don’t think he was going to hit me.

“She’s not standing up for you,” I said, “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do for your friends?”

Jeremy looked at me then like he didn’t understand what I was saying.

“Jon, there’s always more that goes on than is obvious from a few seconds of conversion. Leanne’s stood by me more times than I can count on both hands. She may not be interested in me, but she’s still a good person. Should I blame her just because she isn’t able to stand up to a few assholes all of the time?”

I stood back, shocked by his words.

“Either way, you're my friend and I'm going to stick up for you OK?”

“Who asked you to?”

“No one. No one has to ask me. You look after your friends. Period.”

Those words froze him in his tracks. For maybe twenty seconds he stood, staring, eyes unblinking. Then with a single blink he was back with me, lowering his eyes. When he was upset, it drew out his insecurities.

“I left you when your friends came calling,” he said.

I realized then he had left in fear as I thought back to that night.

“You didn't know what to do. You didn't know them. You did the smart thing.”

“I was scared. It was your fight, not mine,” Jeremy said.

“But you stood your ground and stuck by me in the end,” I said, “That’s when it counted.”

“Yeah and damn near got you killed as well,” he said.

“You can’t control the outcome of every encounter. Sometimes you just trust that something is watching over you.”

Rachel. Rachel had been watching over me. He didn't know that.

“I figured they’d just go and leave us alone after they hit us once or twice. I didn’t realize they were trying to kill you,” Jeremy said to the ground.

“Yeah, but I did know and I still stepped in and pushed their buttons when I could have walked away,” I said.

Pride can be an expensive thing to have. I heard the sound of tapping getting closer and turned to see Leanne running in our direction. She slowed as she approached, looking to me as if for advice. I nodded and stepped back.

“Jeremy?” she asked.

Jeremy looked up. I walked away so they could continue their conversation in relative privacy. There was a small waterfall I hadn’t noticed when we came in, cascading over a contemporary sculpture that looked like some kind of seat. I crouched near it and felt the cool water vapor that came off it, the white noise drowning out the new conversation.

Jeremy was right about one thing and it kept haunting my thoughts. I had prejudged Leanne based on one experience. Based on what little I saw. All I had really done was react to a friend’s reaction. When I thought through everything that I had seen, there was very little reason to question her actions.

Was I prejudging Rachel like that?

I glanced over at them talking a few times, then when Leanne stepped in and hugged Jeremy. I guessed they had finished. She glanced at me and smiled lightly before she walked off. I stood again and walked back.

“Sorted?” I asked.

Jeremy shook his head.

“No, but getting there. Anyway I’m hungry, you ?” he asked.

I don’t think I realized how long we had been looking through the exhibits. It didn’t take long to find a place to eat but Jeremy's mood was still dampened by the earlier events. He didn’t quite make it back to being the same Jeremy who had explained the exhibits to me.

“She asked for your number,” he said without lead-in while we were eating.

“Who?” I asked.

“Leanne,” said Jeremy, before knocking back a mouthful of beer to chase his pasta down.

“I thought she was starting to get interested in you, the hug and all,” I mentioned.

Jeremy shook his head.

“Like I said, she doesn’t care for me. I think the only reason she came out was to ask me for that,” he said.

“That’s a bit rough, after you stood up for her and all,” I said.

“Yeah,” said Jeremy, but he looked away through the crowd.

Jeremy was wrong about that. The hug definitely wasn’t her way at getting to me, but there was no point pointing it out. We found a few more places and had a few more drinks that night. Somewhere.

I don’t think Rachel was waiting for me when I got back.

I know she wasn’t there the next morning when I woke up.

* * * *

Chapter 14 - Half a soul

It had been slightly more than a week since I last saw Rachel. Getting back into my work gave me a chance to think about what was going on. Rachel hadn’t shown up since that night and Leanne had called twice in the past week.

More than once I questioned my own sanity. Jeremy even suggested he didn’t mind if I went after Leanne. I knew I was giving up a pretty lady for little more than an android. That’s what doll addiction was like. You ended up spending all of your time with a lifeless sex machine at the expense of real relationships.

But after the party, it was hard to think of Rachel as anything other than real. I was anthropomorphizing her entirely now. Besides, I don’t think I could have gone out with Leanne anyway. Jeremy liked her. I didn’t want it to get awkward at work if he knew I was seeing her. Or was that just the excuse I was using so I didn’t have to face up to the facts? So that I didn’t have to acknowledge I was developing feelings for a robot.

By week’s end, the number of lifer’s mounting in the wards was taking what little time I had and I was starting to wonder why she hadn’t come back. I tried to contact Peter, but the receptionist I first spoke to didn’t show and subsequently all of the other receptionists denied he worked there, even after prompting.

Laura didn’t show up either, even though I called her name out once. I think it just confused the person answering the phone. I swapped shifts with the B-team on a quiet day and took off early to head into Arilssman. With any luck I could find Peter or someone else who could tell me what was going on. Jeremy encouraged me to do it, well to do something about it. Close enough right?

I think if Jeremy hadn’t seen Rachel with me that morning I would have started to doubt she ever existed. It would be too easy to think she was just a side-effect of the head trauma I recently experienced. I was met with the same response when I got to Arilssman and although I asked to speak to security, the person there was different. Deeper within the office I could see the once-open racks of M-37s had all been covered up.

I walked back out past the Simian sentries, two completely new units neither of which reacted to my presence. Not sure where to go, I looked at the building that was going up quickly. Craning my neck skywards, I saw that the top floor had been poured now and the mushroom design was starting to take shape. Acting on a whim, I crossed over the barrier and entered the building, ignoring all the warnings and walking into the construction area. A light flickered on at the entrance as I passed through.

The stairwell was where it had been when I was in Mindspace, although this place felt grittier than it had when I was here during the dive. I made my way up through the floors and finally found the top floor, beneath the one I wanted to get up to. There were no stairs to the top, nor did it look like there would be from the floorplan laid-out on a worktable near where I came out. I walked to the elevator shaft and looked down. It looked empty. I pushed my foot through and felt for solidity but there was none. I wasn’t too surprised, though I did remind myself that losing track of the different between Mindspace and reality was likely to get me killed.

Across the open shaft I saw a service ladder on the far side. Leaping out to it, I grabbed a rung solidly and hauled myself up, moving to the next level. I knew this hadn’t existed when I came here in Mindspace, but in my mind, it was the way to Peter’s house. He wouldn’t be there but I felt like I needed to find something to anchor my memories in reality.

I followed the same path I had on the day of the party, remembering what it had looked like the first time. Mindspace can give you all kinds of deja-vu when you do that, revisit a place you’ve only gone to in the ‘space. I found the cut section of the prefab wall that lined the hall and walked through into what I knew was going to be Peter’s apartment.

Perhaps I really was hoping things were suddenly going to transition into reality and I would be standing in the complete apartment, asking Laura where I could find Rachel. Just like I would in Mindspace. The stupidity of my actions dawned upon me and I turned to go back to the liftwell almost knocking over a guard who was standing behind me. He jumped back, his hand moving to his belt, so I immediately held my hands up in a sign of surrender before he did anything I might regret.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you,” I said. I stood still and waited for him to recover from the surprise.

I recognized him then. It was the guard that had taken me around the Arilssman facility.

“Jon Carlson right?” he asked, cautiously.

“I was just looking for Rachel,” I said, still not willing to move.

His hand came slowly away from his belt, but not far enough that he couldn’t pre-empt an attack.

“And you thought she would be up here?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“I don’t know where to find her,” I said. “So I came looking.”

The guard slowly look a long breath and blew it out, puffing his cheeks, then looked up and away from me for a moment.

“You realize this is trespass?” he asked.

I nodded my head.

“Yeah, but no one knows Peter Roberts at Arilssman. No one knows Rachel. They don’t seem to exist.”

The guard nodded slowly.

“I never told you this, but she’s away on unspecified business and may not be back for a while,” he said.

“The Asimov guys didn’t take her again did they?” I immediately thought the worst.

The guard smiled at relaxed at that.

“No, they didn’t, but we can’t talk about anything like that, all right?” he said, enough menace in his words to alert me to the situation.

“Thankyou, can you tell me where she is?” I asked.

“No I can’t and I can’t leave you here either,” he said.

“Are you going to arrest me?” I asked.

The guard shrugged.

“For minor trespass? Perhaps I didn’t see anything suspicious, just some homeless people,” said the guard shrugging, “At least that’s what Roger would have said.”

The hint was clear. This was the only time he would be lenient. This was his returning the favor for my filling him in on the circumstances of his friend’s death.

“I’ll go then,” I said. The guard nodded once to confirm then I stepped around him and walked towards the elevator shaft.

“Where are you going?” he called out quietly.

I turned and noticed the tension in his voice.

“Elevator well,” I said.

He smiled and almost laughed at that.

“There’s a service elevator to the side, I’ll take you down,” he said.

I followed him over to the service elevator. It came through mid-top-floor, probably because it was attached to the outside of the lower floors. As he flipped the safety barrier up, the guard looked out into the city.

“You know, you really can’t come here. Physical security is still important and besides, you can visit this place in Mindspace if you’re appropriately authorized,” he said, “They even have this elevator in Mindspace, you know, except it just needs a code and not a pass key. Access is as easy as one two three. Anyway, don’t let me catch you here again. I’m sure I don’t have to explain things to you twice. The penalty for trespass is mandatory in this state.”

We rode in silence to the bottom and he saw me out to the street, then hopped back into one of the carts I thought was only for indoor use. It accelerated away more rapidly than I would have guessed it was capable of. I watched him go then looked back at the buildings. I needed to find a Mindspace Kiosk.

#

Remembering the map Jeremy had shown me, I made my way into the entertainment sector of the city. It was getting dark. I had started my search too late in the day and many of the Mindspace access shops were shut up and closed. There would be some open late somewhere in the city, but I didn’t know my way around yet.

Walking closer to where the night lights still shone brightly, I found the late-night entertainment district and moved from venue to venue. Looking up at the side of an amusement center, I noticed the access signs that indicated Mindspace terminals at good prices. I hadn’t been into an amusement center since before, well, since back when I still had some family. It felt strange walking in and a lot of young people stared at me to make sure I knew I was out of place.

I wandered up to the main desk and found a young girl, looking barely into her teens, staffing it. She looked up at me from beneath a fashionable haircut after I waited.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Do you have Mindspace access here?” I asked.

She looked at me strangely.

“Terminals are over there,” she said, nodding in the direction.

I looked to the far wall where there were several terminals offered visual-only access with gesture based recognition.

“No, I mean immersive,” I said, wondering if I had the right place.

She turned her head and shouted, “Dad.”

I looked through the open door where she yelled and a large man came through, noticed her gesture and looked up at me.

“Can I help you?” he asked in the same manner as his daughter had.

“I hope so, I’m looking for an immersive Mindspace access point,” I said.

He looked me over strangely, then fixed his stare on my neck.

“Are you mil?” he asked.

“Ex,” I answered.

He shrugged.

“Sorry, don’t have the bandwidth. What did you want to do?”

How did I answer that?

“There’s this girl I need to meet, and,” I said, before I noticed his gesture wanting me to stop.

He motioned me over close and leaned over the counter when he spoke.

“There’s a brothel over on the corner of Hindley and Masters and they…” he said, but I pulled my head back.

“No, it’s not that kind of thing I’m looking for,” I said.

He shook his head.

“No, you don’t understand. They offer other services too, including virtual for some clients. In any event, it’s the only place you’ll find active terminals at this time of night and if you want to meet someone, you probably don’t want someone looking over your shoulder right?”

I nodded slowly, not really sure if I had actually planned it that far ahead.

“So just go in and ask for a terminal. Seriously. They get the odd businessman who needs to attend a conference or the like, so it’s not all that uncommon.”

Then he leaned back and nodded, seemingly self-satisfied with the advice he had given.

“Another perv dad?” his daughter asked, scorn in her voice.

The large man frowned.

“Not everyone who uses the ‘space is a perv, Tina. They wouldn’t come in here if they were.”

She screwed up her face in disinterest and went back to whatever she was doing before I came in.

“Don’t pay any attention to her. She thinks every older person who comes in here is a perv. It’s just her age,” he said.

I didn’t know how to take that so thanked him and made my way out. As uncomfortable as the idea of entering a brothel to find Rachel was, it was at least a suggestion. If they had a private server, then it was possible they would have a high bandwidth cot for clients.

The place wasn’t hard to find. Windows of hypervid screens beckoned me in and promised many things to would-be customers. Some of them things that might have interested me before I met Rachel. I stood there for a half minute looking, wondering if I should enter before I realized that standing out here probably looked worse than going in.

Once past the hyvid screens, this place looked more like a surgery than a brothel. Clean white tiles, waiting seats with clients and a reception. The main difference was the receptionists at a surgery didn’t usually dress in fetish while they waited. She smiled as soon as I entered and waited for me to walk over before talking to me in a seductive voice.

“Welcome to Fullservice, sir, how can we make your day more pleasant?” she asked.

A counter display above her shoulder flicked over to the next number and a man sitting beside me with a bad case of acne got up and walked towards the door past the receptionist.

“We’re a little busy at the moment as you can see, but that’s because it’s worth the wait.” She said with a voice full of promise as I watched him walk past.

“Ahh, I need access to a terminal, fully immersive,” I said.

“Business or pleasure?” she asked.

“Personal,” I said.

It was enough of an answer. The seductive voice lost some of its edge.

“Sorry, but we only have three haptics rooms and they are presently… engaged with clients waiting. I can book you in for some time tomorrow if you like,” she said, waiting as she held a pen over a hyvid screen.

That wasn’t what I wanted. I would be back at work tomorrow.

“Can you suggest anywhere else that might be open? I really need to find somewhere tonight,” I said.

She rolled her eyes and gave me a semi offended glare at my question.

“There’s the amusement zone in the late quarter,” she suggested.

“They don’t have neuro,” I said.

Her eyes narrowed.

“You’re adapted?” she asked.

I nodded.

“We have a cot if that’s suitable?”

“That would be perfect, ahh, what’s the charge?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes again, seemingly annoyed with the question. “You’re an ex lifer right? Trying to get back in after some detox?”

I shook my head.

“I just need to meet someone.” I said.

“Ninety three five twenty for low bandwidth,” she said, then added “Per hour, but charged per second.”

I saw then where most of my clients came adrift. That was still affordable but not for any length of time. And a full scaffold would cost more.

“I’ll take it,” I said.

She nodded then handed me a small disc with the number N4 on it. I looked over her shoulder at the displays, but didn’t see anything with an “N” on it.

“What do I do?” I asked.

“Hand me your card until you’re done and we’ll debit at exit.”

I passed my Samaritan’s ID over and got a raised eyebrow at that as she recognized it.

“I thought you guys spent all your time trying to stop people spending all their time in Mindspace,” she said.

I shook my head.

“No, we just help them with the exit,” I said.

She gave me a questioning glance, then nodded towards the waiting room.

“Then take a seat please.”

I sat down and looked around although no one made eye contact. If I looked in anyone’s direction, they looked away. I picked up a sheet from the stack and watched the news. An annoying logo from the sheet sponsor kept mentioning audio was available and I had to shoo it away so I could read the story. The story told of a new embargo against the Asian Union for unspecified claims by the Europeans that it was developing military technologies outside of current embargoes.

“Mister Carlson,” came a gentle voice.

I looked up into the eyes of a tall, thin blonde lady who was wearing a very narrow top and equally revealing pants that descended down directly into boots. A style that was popular a few decades ago. It lost popularity quickly because it simply didn’t look good on some people. She didn’t have that problem.

“Yes,” I said, looking up.

“I’m your dive controller, would you like to come with me now?”

Several other eyes were already on her now. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who noticed. I stood and followed her into the back area and down a corridor.

“We don’t get many full interface clients. I take it your familiar with the cot from your day work?”

I nodded.

“Then we’ll just get you straight in,” she said, opening a door and leading me into a room with an older model fixed-height cot, “since your charges have already started.”

I got onto the cot quickly, realizing I was paying by the second now.

“I’m Lorina, and I’ll be your dive monitor for this connection. I’m a technician, so please don’t go pawing me, although if you’d like we can meet inside where anything goes.”

I stared at her at that comment.

“But how can you monitor me at the same time,” I asked.

She winced at the question.

“Think AI-that-looks-like-me. You’ll find she can be very accommodating to your needs if you like. Since I’m controlling, I’ll make sure you don’t try anything illegal, which would be a silly thing to do as you can’t get away until I bring you back out. Besides, the last thing you want is to find yourself surrounded by police on exit.”

She smiled sweetly as if trying to sugar-coat the threat, though it was clear that she fully intended to allow me to access a proxy of her and do anything within legal bounds. I wondered how many people went too far that she felt the need to warn me in advance.

“Sorry, Lorina, but I’m just here to meet someone, I’m not really here for fun,” I said.

She looked almost disappointed.

”All right then, we’ll drop you in. Transition?” she asked.

“None,” I said, “No transition please.”

The edge of her smile curled up at that. Then the world shifted away.

#

A moment later I was laying on a cot by myself. Lorina was gone. I made a quick check of my limbs then tried to move before falling slowly to the floor.

“Wait one minute please, I’m still synchronizing,” Lorina’s voice came through inside my head.

I stepped over and waited by the door this time. After what seemed like two or so minutes, which I reminded myself I was paying for, I heard her voice again.

“All right, you’re ready to go. Try the door,” she said.

I walked out into the real-time area.

“This is all pseudo-simulated based on a combination of real-time feed and projected simulation, but you can’t interact with any non-specified people or I’ll have to bring you out.”

Her voice sounded rather geeky in a way that reminded me of Jeremy. I wondered briefly if all civilian dive controllers were like this.

“How do I access Mindspace directly?” I asked.

“You really don’t want sex?” asked the voice in my head.

She was really good at this. Another time, different circumstances, I would have melted like butter to that voice. No doubt she would milk my credit dry if I let her.

“Sorry, I really just want to use Mindspace right now.”

There was a pause.

“Just a moment, I need to establish a common gateway access and request an open port,” said Lorina and then I heard a door open behind me.

Lorina, looking just like she did in the brothel, walked out wearing a small jacket over the narrow top.

“Hi, I’m with you now,” said the figure, smiling.

“Lorina, what’s this?” I asked to no one.

The figure looked hurt that I spoke away from it. It answered for Lorina, the voice in my head now gone.

“I can’t control you out in Mindspace from here, because you’ll violate several laws if I try to contact you without a proxy. I need to go with you,” she said.

I looked at her.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said.

Lorina frowned, both hurt and annoyed this time.

“You came to an escort service for Mindspace access and you’re welcome to terminate the session any time you like, but I’m going to have to come with you and make sure you’re all right,” she said.

“So you’re an AI with Lorina’s personality inside huh? And you’re saying I’m stuck with you?”

Lorina-AI bobbed her head, and a voice temporarily sounded in my mind. “You may have an authorization from your controller for direct audio insertion, but I don’t. You know, you might as well just take advantage of her while she’s there.”

“No thankyou,” I said to Lorina-AI this time.

“Your loss,” said Lorina-AI and her smile turned into a slight smirk.

“How do I get out of here?” I asked.

Lorina-AI pointed towards the exit, “I’ve already opened the ports and you’ve been granted access. Just exit the building to leave the private server.”

I opened the door and stepped through, feeling a strange sensation pass through me as I did.

“That’s just the boundary transition. We don’t run standard rules under exemption four three one six point nine of the Mindspace commercial code,” said the AI escort as I walked from the building.

The more she spoke, the more she reminded me of Jeremy and I wondered if her regular clients found it annoying or a turn-on. I looked around and noticed that the area outside the brothel was updated in real time with a combination of interpolated real-world data and approximate information. However I didn’t see any people mixed in from the real world here. There were more people walking around here than I expected to see, but very few compared to the real world.

“This is only Mindspace data,” I said.

“Limited traffic information,” said Lorina-AI, “Bandwidth limitations of the cot.”

I hoped that real-world interposed data wasn’t going to be necessary for what I wanted to do. Moving away from the Fullservice CGI, I made my way towards Arilssman with my fetish-suited minder in tow.

“Did you want to attend a meeting? I can co-ordinate the protocols and set up the interaction zone for you. I can change my appearance as required also,” said Lorina-AI.

“No thankyou, I just want to have a look at some construction areas,” I said.

Lorina-AI made a humming sound and then looked around.

“You can do that during the day, why at night?” she asked.

The question annoyed me.

“Because I want to see someone now and they’re working Mindspace also,” I answered.

I hurried along, taking larger strides as I walked. If this wasn’t a public server I probably could have sprinted through here but being implanted, I would tire quickly if I tried.

“Lorina, can you adjust reality in here so I can run faster?” I asked.

Lorina shook her head.

“That activity is banned under containment policy, section eight, sub-clause fourteen,” she said, suddenly hurrying along on her toes to catch up. Her high heels were making it difficult for her to run too. She was just an AI but even AIs were subject to the same simulation rules as we were when in Mindspace.

I finally reached the corner and located the Arilssman new apartment complex well ahead of my escort. As much as felt was rude to run away, I reminded myself that time was wasting and the slower she walked, the more I paid. She probably wore those heels deliberately to slow me down. Even if I did have to have an escort, it didn’t mean I had to be polite to them.

“Wait up, mister Carlson, I can’t move as fast as you,” called Lorina-AI, looking slightly out of breath as she ran strangely.

I stepped through the CGI transition barrier and into the foyer of the virtual building where Peter was to live someday. Lorina-AI came up and halted at the entrance.

“According to resource information and tags, this represents an incomplete construction by Arilssman for employees,” said Lorina-AI.

I walked further into the construction area.

“How did you get into there?” asked my escort.

“I stepped through.”

Lorina-AI tried to follow me but seemed blocked by some kind of barrier.

“This zone is restricted to Arilssman personnel and projects only. We are not authorized,” called out Lorina-AI.

I ignored her and made my way further onto the site.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” I said, walking through a doorway.

“Mister Carlson, entry onto this site at this time without access is not allowed under section three five,” her voice trailed off.

I was relieved that she couldn’t follow me in here. If she had, it would have been hard to explain to Laura. After all, what do you say to your girlfriend’s sister when you show up late at her house, with an escort dressed in fetish? I made my way to the man-lift at the side of the building and stepped in, lowering the bar and uncovering the control panel.

There was a proximity ID system and a simple code-pad. I thought back to what the guard had said and punched in the three numbers. There was a shudder moved through the lift and it began to rise. Overhead the mushroom-top floor came closer as the lift approached a small hole in the formwork.

When it stopped, I stepped out onto the concrete deck and looked around. Beyond the edge of the incomplete formwork, the lights of the Arilssman facility shone brightly and illuminated the unfinished floor. It looked exactly how it had when I showed up in the afternoon. That made me question whether it really would be any different this time. I had no idea if Laura would even be here.

I located the unfinished doorspace that led to Peter’s apartment and stepped through. There was no transition. I only stepped out onto virtual, unfinished concrete. Beyond the low wall that was a garden inside Laura’s world, all I saw were the blinking lights of the Arilssman.

I stepped back two steps, not quite ready to give up. Standing in front of the door, I yelled out.

“Laura, I need to speak to you. Please open the door.”

There was no response. I raised my voice again.

“Laura, this is Jon, I need to speak to you,” I called out.

Then I waited. There was still no response.

Starting to question my own experiences now, I cupped both my hands around my mouth and yelled as loudly as I could.

“Laura, I really need,” I said before a bright light shot through the open doorway. At first I thought it was some kind of glitch, then the light widened and spilled out and a face peered through the crack.

“Jon stop yelling, Staci’s asleep,” said a tired looking Laura as she peered through the door.

My excitement surged at seeing her, at finally being able to contact one of the people I wanted to speak to.

“Laura, I really need to speak to you,” I breathed out hard.

She lifted her finger to her lips.

“Shush, I really mean it, Staci’s asleep and needless to say, Peter’s not here.”

“I can’t contact him,” I said.

“Of course not, there’s trouble at the moment,” Laura said.

I looked at her surprised, wondering what the trouble was.

“You can’t be told of it, anyway, what are you doing here? It’s not exactly polite to show up unannounced,” she said.

“Rachel hasn’t visited me in more than a week,” I said, “I don’t know how to contact her.”

Laura looked at me annoyed, then the light opened up further and I could see her apartment beyond.

“Come in and be quiet, I don’t want Staci woken,” she said.

I walked into the apartment and noticed Laura was wearing pyjamas. The place was a lot tidier than it had been when I was last here.

“Anyway, Rachel probably has wants to see you too, but she’s really busy at the moment,” Laura said.

“I haven’t received any messages from her,” I said.

“She chooses not to speak in your world. Have you received anything on your phone in textual format?” she asked.

I felt for my phone stupidly, realizing I still hadn’t replaced it since I lost it in the ambulance.

“I don’t have a phone,” I said.

Laura frowned at me. “Then she won’t be able to leave you a message will she?”

“I guess not,” I said. I felt stupid. I felt like an anxious boyfriend trapped by his own insecurities. I felt like an interloper. I heard a noise behind me and turned to see what it was. Staci was rubbing her eyes and her hair was wild around her.

“Hello Mister Carlson,” said Staci.

“Hello Staci, I’m sorry if I woke you up,” I said.

“I was already awake. I’m worried about daddy,” she said.

Laura held out her arm and Staci walked over and collapsed into her side, burying her head into Laura’ breast.

“What’s wrong with Peter,” I asked.

“Nothing is wrong with Peter, he’s just incredibly busy at the moment and there’s trouble in the real world,” Laura said.

“He’s trying to build more Angels and prepare status reports for Mister Arilssman,” said Staci.

“Build more Angels?” I asked.

“That’s enough talk,” said Laura, “You’re not allowed to know any of this.”

“Auntie Rachel misses you,” said Staci.

We both looked at her.

“She’s glad you’re here. She wanted to tell you, but she’s not allowed to,” Staci continued.

“Are you in touch with Rachel?” I asked.

Staci nodded, at which point Laura walked her out of the room and back to the stairs before I could ask her to relay a message.

“I’ll be back in just a moment, Mister Carlson,” called Laura.

I wandered over to the large open window that separated the inside and outside. This world of Mindspace felt more alive when I looked at the Arilssman lights from within, rather than what existed outside of Laura’s special world. Moments later I heard Laura descend the stairs once more, except instead of the lounge room, she walked into the kitchen.

“Would you like a coffee, mister Carlson?” she asked.

“Thankyou,” I said, then meandered over to where a large stylish breakfast bench separated her kitchen from the rest of the room. In that respect it wasn’t unlike an upmarket version of my place. I pulled out a stool and sat down, then remembered where I was, lifting it more carefully.

“She really is an Angel now isn’t she,” I said.

Laura nodded.

“But underneath all that, she’s still just a twelve year old girl,” Laura explained.

“Why do you do that as Angels? Why do you live as humans in this world?” I asked.

“What would you choose to do if you were an Angel?” Laura asked.

“But I’m not an Angel,” I said.

“Demon then. You’re a Demon according to your files,” Laura said.

“Yes, that I was,” I acknowledged.

“So as a Demon, you work in another skin. Because you’re neuroconnected to it, it becomes you and you enter a different mental state where you believe you’re the Demon. Tinskinning. Isn’t that what they call it?”

I nodded my affirmation.

“And the only reason you come out is because you need food, but you know technology has evolved to the extent that you can essentially tinskin for days with the right sort of life support system,” Laura said.

I nodded, wondering where this was going.

“So why do you choose to live as a human, mister Demon?” Laura asked me. Her voice was taking on an edge that made me feel uneasy.

“Because this is my life,” I said, “I was born to this world and I choose to live in this world.”

“Well Angels are born to the world of Mindspace within a Mindspace node. They live as does everyone else in Mindspace. So given that, do you really think an Angel would choose to live any other way?”

Laura fixed her gaze harshly on he as she continued.

“My sisters don’t choose to tinskin, mister Carlson. They have no choice. If not for Mindspace and the local node, we would have nowhere else to live. Do you know what it’s like to live amongst humans, yet apart?”

Her voice took on an adversarial tone now as her comments became a lecture.

“How do you think I feel about my only daughter coming into a world not only realizing she’s different, but also realizing that she can’t ever truly be a human like she was led to believe. She knows she’s an Angel now and accepts it, but she’ll never be with children her own age or see the world as humans get to see it. Now she’s little more than a slave to the world that created her like some kind of machine.”

This conversation wasn’t going well.

“Laura, I’m sorry, I didn’t really come here for an argument, I only wanted to find out where Rachel was,” I said.

Laura’s eyes lit with fire for a moment.

“And so you came here with that prostitute thinking it would impress me?”

How did Laura know about Lorina, AI or otherwise?

“If you knew I was coming here, why didn’t you open the door earlier?” I asked.

Laura paused, caught out.

“Just how much do you know?” I asked.

Laura looked away, I took it as a sign she didn’t want to speak to me.

“Laura, it seems you know more than everyone, so please tell me, what’s going on? Am I going to see Rachel again?”

Her head snapped around to face me as her pitch increased.

“Why? To give her ideas that she can live a normal life with you? So you can have sex with her human body in Mindspace, while the world treats her like a freak whenever she joins you in the real world? Do you have any idea what it’s doing to her? To have fallen in love with a, a,” Laura searched for the word.

“A Human?” I offered, but Laura’s anger wasn’t going to be placated. She began to rant.

“What makes you think you’re any better than her? What makes you think that you’re even good enough for her? For all you know, you’re just a simulation in this world as well. This world doesn’t exist, it’s just a creation of man you realize. It’s nothing, yet the humans think it’s all important. Why should Rachel suffer any more than she has just for your sake?”

I started to open my mouth, but Laura cut me off, yelling now.

“Tell me one thing Jonathan Carlson, just one thing. Do you even love her?”

My defense faltered against the question.

“Do you love her?” Laura demanded again.

“I came here looking for her,” I stammered.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Laura accused.

“I just told you,” I found myself getting defensive now.

“Yes or no, do you love her?” Laura demanded.

“I, I…” I started, then finished, “Think I should leave now. I’m really sorry to have bothered you Mrs Roberts. I’ll leave the way I came.”

I left without even sipping my coffee. Laura came around the bench and followed me out, screaming at me from the open door.

“She doesn’t need you and she doesn’t need to be with you. You need to decide what you’re going to do sooner rather than later.”

Then the door closed and she vanished into whatever world she existed within. I was furious and angry at the same time. At myself as much as Laura. Why didn’t I know what I wanted from Rachel? I walked towards the lift but stopped when I head soft footfalls behind me.

Turning, I saw Staci following me quietly. She was out in Mindspace now, outside of the apartment. I swallowed my anger and steadied my voice.

“Staci, it’s late,” I said quietly. “You need to go to bed.”

She shook her hair.

“Mommy doesn’t know I came out here to speak to you. Please don’t tell her,” she said quietly.

As much as I wanted to speak to her, she was Laura’s daughter and it wasn’t something I should do.

“You shouldn’t disobey your mother, she knows what’s best for you,” I said.

“I’m an Angel, Mister Carlson. Think about that for a moment. You’re speaking to a program.”

I shook my head.

“You seem very real to me,” I said.

Staci smiled at that.

“You’re a nice man mister Carlson. Mother’s angry because she thinks that you’re not good enough for Rachel, but I think you are. There’s other things too but I can’t tell you. I hope you understand.”

“I appreciate your telling me regardless, Staci” I said.

“She’s angry because you let that girl die during the exercise,” Staci said.

I froze as a chill ran up my spine. Almost no-one should know about that, except the Military and Jeremy. It wasn’t something anyone else should know, especially a twelve year old girl. I stood transfixed like an animal in a spotlight.

“But I think you’ve learned from that and moved on. So does Auntie Rachel, otherwise she wouldn’t want to be with you. Mother still thinks you’re still a Demon but I think you have the potential to become an Angel like me. You’re not a killer like the other Demons. You made your decision and chose a different path.”

I didn’t have a response. Staci looked around as though her mother had called her, then whispered the rest.

“I have to go now. Please don’t try to find Auntie Rachel, she’ll come to you when the time is right. She does love you Mister Carlson, she told me, so you can believe in that.”

I fell slowly to my knees until I faced her at eye level.

“And I think you love her too, but I don’t think you know it yet. Anyway, I have to go now. We can’t speak anymore without both of us getting into a lot of trouble. I wanted to thank you for the gift that you saved for me from father. It’s a wonderful place and while it’s different from mother’s apartment, my dream space is very special to me. Also I’m really sorry, but I have to make sure that they can’t record this and it’s going to hurt you a lot.”

I felt a sudden shudder go right through my body. My eyes filled with light and my body went into a seizure. I was no longer in control of my muscles, falling over backwards, past the edge of the building.

#

Light filled my eyes once more but they wouldn’t focus. Searing pain moved through my spine as I tried to move and my arms were held down.

“Just stay still,” Jeremy’s calming words called out, “You’re out of Sync.”

I felt like my muscles were trying to rip me apart. Between the painful spasms I wondered what Jeremy was doing here. Was I hallucinating?

“Is he all right?” came a voice that I tried to place, soft and feminine.

My eyes started to focus.

“He’s coming out,” said Jeremy.

I tried to speak, but nothing came out.

“What the hell was he doing here?” sounded another voice, this time Steve’s.

“I swear, I was with him the whole time and then he went and breached some security perimeter around the Arilssman facility and I was shut out from him,” came the soft voice again. It must have been Lorina although she sounded very different.

“What were his synchronization stats?” Jeremy asked.

“He was fully synced at one hundred points while I waited for him to come back out, then I lost Audio and Video and access to the remote feed. The recorder core-dumped. Whatever was in there cut him off from my connection. It was like he entered a private server without authorization and I couldn’t follow,” Lorina said.

Jeremy made a Hmmm sound as my eyes suddenly snapped fully back into focus.

“I just resynced his visual,” said Lorina.

Jeremy moved over my face and looked down.

“You’re heavily sedated, Jon, but try to visually change focus if you understand me,” he asked.

I tried to focus out to infinity then back.

“OK, good, just relax Jon, you know what’s going on so I won’t tell you.”

What was going on? And what was Jeremy doing here?

“In case you’re wondering,” said Jeremy, “Paula here called us as soon as you went offline in the online.”

“Lorina, he thinks my name is Lorina,” said Paula.

“Lorina?” asked Jeremy.

“It’s my professional name,” said Paula.

“Oh, it’s not as nice,” said Jeremy, almost disappointedly.

“What’s going on?” asked Steve.

“He’s back with us now, but he almost had a complete desynchronisation for a while there. Something in a private server logged into him and was real-time adjusting his synchronization. It’s almost as though the server spat him out and quite lucky it did, because he might be a vegetable otherwise,” Jeremy explained. There was more detail there than Steve would have needed.

I felt my eyelids and eye movement muscles snap back. It hurt enough to make my eyes tear.

I looked over to where I heard the other voice. Paula was there, looking exactly like Lorina when I left her, but now she had a real name. She looked like she was manually trying to reconnect my senses.

“Progressive return is happening, he’s responding,” called Paula.

“Connection to remote server fully severed,” said Jeremy.

“So is he going to be OK?” asked Steve again.

Jeremy shook his head.

“Not out of the woods yet, boss, he’s still in danger. Right now, I need to keep him sedated while we bring him out, give his implants time to desynchronize and let his mind reconnect with his body. His heartrate and breathing just cut over from implant. I’m switching life support routines off,” said Paula nervously.

“Is that safe?” asked Steve.

“Sure,” said Jeremy, although his voice wavered as he said it, worrying me, “We can always switch back to implants if he arrests again or something.”

“Speaking of arrest,” came a voice from the back that I didn’t recognize, “It seems that Arilssman aren’t pressing charges, so we’ll leave now.”

“I think we should get him to a hospital,” said Steve, “Just to be safe.”

I felt my throat snap back under my control.

“No more hospitals,” I croaked.

I think it sounded worse than it was.

“Jon, you’re back,” Jeremy’s voice lightened. “Glad you’re able to let us know you’re with us once more.”

I grunted, the effort to speak still too much.

“I still think you should consider going to a hospital,” said my boss.

“All life support systems fully back to wetware,” called Paula from the cot controls. I felt my heart rate surge as it came back under my own control, affected directly by the flood of chemicals and hormones my body was pushing into my blood stream.

“That was a good idea, putting those shunts in place. Neuroparalysis is as good as physical at times,” Jeremy said.

“We might not have the newest cots, but we take the best care of our customers,” Paula said back.

I could hear the pride in her voice as she spoke to Jeremy. That’s a geek thing, right? It even looked like she was giving him a smile.

I closed my eyes as the painful realignment of senses continued and with each agonizing jolt, I started to wonder what I had done to piss Laura off so much.

#

Jeremy dropped me back home in the ambulance. It took me a full half-hour to resynchronize even after that. Jeremy told me that Fullservice had called the office for help, panicking when they lost control of my life support systems. They still charged me by the second the entire time, including the time I spent on the floor.

I would be broke for weeks but knowing that everything was as it was supposed to be, even if I didn’t know why Rachel was gone or where she was, helped. I don’t understand why Laura was so agitated about me and I’m lost as to how she knew everything. Even about the exercise. That was more than classified, it was sealed. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Rachel knowing about the incident, of my part in it.

“They lost your transfer records,” said Jeremy out of the blue as he sat in my single-room apartment, waiting for me to recover fully. Steve had made his own way home.

“My what?” I asked.

“You entered a private server without authorization, but you got ejected with an error code. Because of that, it didn’t transfer your dive records back and screwed up your life support handle because your neuro implants started getting two streams of data for a while. Paula said everything looked fine up until you came out and she was about to call the hospital when she remembered where you were from. She called Steve instead and he called me. At first, we thought you were, you know, having a good time but she said you didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah,” was all I said.

“Rachel huh?” Jeremy asked.

“You didn’t tell Steve did you?” I asked.

“Of course not. I know how personal that is to you, but he’s probably wondering what you were doing breaking into a secure facility at night with forged access from a brothel with an escort in tow, so you might want to prepare a good story.”

I winced at that.

“I just walked in,” I said.

“Seems someone gave you access. That much was given when you transferred but the last part of your dive inside the building was all lost. So what happened anyway?” Jeremy asked, “If it’s not too personal.”

“Rachel wasn’t there,” I said.

“So who let you in?” asked Jeremy.

“A friend was there and told me what was going on. Something must have gone wrong when I came back out is all,” I answered.

Could I even call Laura a friend? She was the wife of a friend but she was fairly antagonistic towards me at the moment. I got the distinct feeling she would be happier if I wasn’t around.

“Was this friend the same one you brought out in your first dive?” asked Jeremy.

I shook my head.

“Someone I met since, but they couldn’t tell me anything.” I said.

“So you didn’t achieve what you wanted to then?”

“Oh, no, yes, well, kind of. At least I know not to worry now,” I said.

Jeremy laughed, but it seemed kind of nervous. What did he have to worry about.

“Is Rachel still your girlfriend?” he asked again.

“I don’t know,” I responded, echoing the doubts that still clouded my thoughts. Staci promised I would see her again. I prayed she knew what she was talking about.

* * * *

Chapter 15 - Absence

Rachel didn’t come back the next week or the week after. There was no sign even after I got a new phone. I tried to leave my number as a message for Peter, but they still just denied he was there even though they took my number.

I was working extra shifts as well to repay my debt for my foray into Mindspace and there was a joke running around the office about something called Fetishspace. No one told me the joke, but it was easy to guess. Still, Steve and Gibson were more than understanding and Jeremy stuck by me. Work went on and we were taking on some significant numbers of lifers of late. The wards were full and we were starting to run out of evictees to process.

Jeremy wasn’t around as much now, sometimes getting into work late, which wasn’t like him. Though we still spent time at the pub and he seemed to be smiling a lot. Several times I had to resist the lure of diving back in and finding Laura again to ask her. Peter wouldn’t return my messages and Laura was the only link I knew. But now that the apartments were built and sealed, access would be impossible even in Mindspace. It didn’t matter that no one was living there yet.

At times I started to feel lonely again, like I did when I first left the base but at least my current circumstances were a lot better. Jeremy had picked me up this morning as he did most mornings and seemed happier than usual.

“You still haven’t told me who she is yet?” I questioned.

“Who?” Jeremy asked.

“The new lady in your life,” I said.

“She’s fine,” Jeremy said evasively.

“I didn’t ask how she was, I asked who she was,” I corrected him.

“It’s Paula,” said Jeremy, stringing it together quickly.

It took me a moment to realize who he might be talking of.

“Lorina?” I asked.

“Her name’s Paula,” said Jeremy rather defensively.

“The geek from the brothel?” I asked.

“She’s an IT professional, like me,” Jeremy said.

I must have had a surprised look on my face, because when he looked over at me he screwed up his face a little and asked “What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I asked.

“Because you were one of her customers and well, it doesn’t feel right for some reason.”

“She didn’t do anything for me that you don’t,” I pointed out.

“What about her AI partner?” Jeremy asked.

“She didn’t do anything for me either. What did she say I did?” I asked.

“Nothing,” said Jeremy.

“See, she said I did nothing,” I pointed out.

“No, she didn’t say anything about you, nothing,” Jeremy corrected me.

I nodded, feeling my face stretch. I don’t know why I found it so amusing, but for some reason I did. Perhaps it was just that I was happy for Jeremy after so many stories of bad luck.

“She won’t talk about her work, says it’s all private and confidential, even what happened with you. Anyway, we’re still barely in this relationship so don’t say anything to jinx it all right? She’s not that comfortable with dating people who know what she does,” Jeremy cautioned me.

“She’s very attractive,” I said.

Jeremy looked back to the road. He didn’t answer but from the smile I knew he agreed. Despite her unusual line of work, she definitely had what it took in the looks department and that was something Jeremy needed.

“I think she’s a good match, after all you’re both geeks,” I added.

“She’s smarter than me,” said Jeremy after a pause.

“And more dominant,” I said, letting the double entendre drop.

“Yeah, well, I really like her and I don’t want to screw it up,” Jeremy said.

“I think she’s got the better deal,” I said after a while.

Jeremy glanced over at me to check my face before returning his gaze to the road.

“Why would you say that?” he asked.

“Because you’re a nice guy despite your hang-ups and I think she’s done well. Every guy and businessman who goes through that place probably cracks onto her and she’s got the body to take who she wants. But she’s clearly in love with her work and she can talk to you about that. I think she’s lucky to find someone like you.”

Jeremy smiled at the edification.

“Yeah, well let’s see how it goes,” he said.

I lifted a newssheet off the seat and had a look at the headlines.

“There seems to be some issues heating up with this Asian-European trade dispute,” I said.

“What does trade mean in a world like this?” Jeremy asked.

“Not that much, but it’s a stand in for military issues as well. We can’t just go and invade them you know,” I pointed out.

“Are you an ex-diplomat as well as an ex-pilot now?” Jeremy asked.

“Just how it is,” I said, “Do you know what it’s about?”

“Of course,” said Jeremy.

“So tell,” I asked.

“You’re a Demon pilot, surely you know of the issues from the Siberian conflict?” Jeremy asked.

“And,” I prompted.

“The Chinese want to make Angels too, for non-military purposes they claim but the Asimov Committee won’t allow any more. They’re applying for an exemption to the Hobart Convention for the same reason that Arilssman did though.

“Anyway, the Europeans are accusing them of making their Angels without an exemption. They want inspectors to go in and check for Angel development facilities within the Chinese MIND nodes. While the Chinese refuse, the Europeans withhold trade and blockade ships in the Pacific Ocean,” Jeremy explained.

“Sounds like a diplomatic way to start a war still,” I said.

Jeremy swerved out from the roadside as someone tottered out from the kerb using frames to assist his walking. At first I thought it was an old man, but as he looked up in surprise I saw it was a young asian man.

Jeremy corrected and continued on his way.

“We don’t have any clients to retrieve today,” Jeremy said.

I slouched in the seat, pushing my head back into the cushioned supports as I did so.

“So what do we do?” I asked.

“I was thinking we should take the Ambulance out for its fatigue checks,” Jeremy said.

“It’s new,” I protested.

“Yeah, but if there are any flaws, they usually show up in the first few weeks and they can weld in more plastifiber supports to cover the additional stress,” Jeremy said.

“Well, it’s better than sitting around in therapy all day,” I noted.

Jeremy began unloading all of the equipment once we reached the office and storing it in the racks provided. There was a lot to take out, but he didn’t want me to help since I was unfamiliar with the layout. Instead, I completed a quick run of the wards and made my way back out to the garage. When I got there, the asian man on walking supports had made his way in through the back entrance and was approaching the ambulance.

“Hello,” I said as I walked out. Jeremy popped his head out from the back of the ambulance, looked, then pulled it back in again.

“That was you out on the road wasn’t it?” I asked quietly, wondering why he had come in here.

His eyes widened slightly.

“So that was you too then,” he said, “I must apologize, in my country we drive on the other side of the road and I was looking in the wrong direction.”

It was a relief to know he wasn’t angry about the near-miss, but I doubted he was here to apologize either.

“No harm, no foul,” I said, “Who were you looking for?”

“I was looking for you, mister Carlson,” he said.

I stopped short at the mention of my name.

“Why are you looking for me?” I asked.

“You don’t recognize me but we met some time ago,” he said.

I tried to think of all the people I had met, back in my home town or even on the base. I drew a blank on each.

“I’m sorry but I don’t recognize you,” I said, not sure what I should say.

I sat down on the loading dock to bring my level closer to his. The man shuffled over towards me and leaned back on the loading dock himself.

“Jonathan Carlson, I need your help. I need to find my wife,” he said.

“I’m not sure if I can help you,” I said.

“My name is San Tenma,” he said.

The name seemed familiar but I still didn’t place it. He handed me a deep blue card which had his name, the company he worked for and the usual corporate tracking information. A Chinese company that manufactured Demons. I placed it in my pocket next to my own cards.

“I’m looking for Amy Rivenstock,” he said slowly.

The name unlocked in my mind. Suddenly I realized this crippled man was the same huge guy I had met in a private Mindspace server once. This was Amy’s Mindspace husband.

“Sorry, we can’t divulge patient details,” said Jeremy, poking his head around the corner.

The small man’s eyes flicked up and over my shoulder. I ignored Jeremy’s comment.

“What happened after I left you?” I asked.

“Did you tell her?” he asked.

“I passed on your message,” I said.

A look of defeat seemed to flash across his face before it was replaced with resolve.

“She didn’t leave me any forwarding location and she doesn’t go online anymore. She doesn’t respond to my messages and she didn’t leave me an alternate contact.”

“If she doesn’t want to speak with you, there’s nothing I can do,” I said.

I saw the pain in his face as he pleaded with me.

“Mister Carlson, you’re my last hope of finding her. I had a hard time getting into your country and they’re revoking visas. This might be my only chance to find her and at least know for certain if she doesn’t want to see me again.”

“Jon,” warned Jeremy.

“Mister San, I’m really sorry but I just can’t help you. There are professional ethics involved here and if I cross that line, my career is over.”

“Mister Carlson, haven’t you ever loved someone with everything you had and lost them? Wouldn’t you chase them to the ends of the very earth itself? I won’t give up but I may not have much time left. My visa ends today and I’m booked to fly out. I’ve spent a week looking for her, but I just don’t have any time left. Please help me,” he begged.

I could understand his motivation. I chased Rachel and nearly got into serious trouble for it and I’m still not sure if I’m in love with her.

“Mister San, it’s not going to happen.” I said.

The last determination left his face, leaving him looking like a broken crippled man. I felt something within me break at the sight of it.

“Jeremy, let’s go, the least we can do is drop Mister San off to the airport,” I said.

“No Passengers,” growled Jeremy under his breath.

“Fine, I’ll clear it with Gibson then,” I said.

Jeremy grunted and gave in.

“All right, we’ll take a passenger just this once.”

“I don’t want to be an imposition, I can take the train,” said San Tenma as he lifted himself onto his supports again.

“No, really, you should come with us,” I said, opening the door, “You won’t find transport close around here and you can’t walk to the station easily can you?”

He shook his head.

“Thankyou for your help,” he said, taking the offer and climbing in. His braces telescoped in until they fitted neatly beneath his forearms.

We drove towards the airport with a quiet sullen mood in the cabin, the usual chat absent.

“Jeremy, I just realized I have a patient to check on,” I said.

“Who’s that,” Jeremy asked.

“Quick, turn here before we miss it,” I said, pointing.

Jeremy made the turn, then realized what I had in mind. He growled but continued to follow my directions.

“I hope you don’t mind, I just need to ask him a couple of questions and we can leave,” I told our passenger.

“I am already in your debt for the lift,” said my guest quietly.

We pulled up alongside a small house on the outskirts.

“I’ll just be a moment,” I said as I got out, “No more than five minutes.”

I walked down the side path and banged on a large glass door, the mesh now gone. An older lady came to the window and peered through it before she opened the glass door and spoke.

“You’ve come to complete your reports a little late, Mister Carlson. They’ve already sent someone else to do them,” she told me.

“I need just a couple of minutes to make sure it’s all complete,” I said.

She slid the door all the way past the security stops and stepped back.

“Would you like some tea or coffee then?” she asked as I took a seat near the table. It was new, as if someone had only recently bought it, “I heard you were hurt in a fight and off work for a while.”

I shook my head. “I won’t be here that long,” I said.

“Perhaps just as well as I really don’t like being reminded,” she said.

“How has the family recovery gone?” I asked.

“You mean do they still come around now they’ve rescued gran from the clutches of the evil Mindspace?” she asked.

“Yes, that,” I confirmed.

“They don’t visit now just like they didn’t before. After they got their way and I was evicted, they went back to their own lives,” she said, a frown on her lips.

“And you?” I asked.

“Healthwise?” she clarified.

“Everything,” I said.

“I’m coping,” she answered.

I nodded.

“Do you need any further assistance from the Samaritans? Doctor Jeffery from the clinic said that you refused counseling,” I noted.

“Tell me Jon, what medicine do you know of for a broken heart?”

I held my breath for a moment.

“What would you say if I told you I was taking San Tenma back to the airport after he completed a weeks fruitless searching for you. That his last effort to find you brought him to me and I had him in the ambulance right now?”

Her eyes narrowed, hardened in their gaze.

“I would say you were being very unprofessional if you brought him here,” she said.

I felt gutted by her response as if it had been me who had been rejected. I nodded once, then stood.

“Of course, well, anyway I have to get back to work then,” I said.

I pulled another card from my pocket and placed it down on the counter, my name face up.

“If there’s anything you need, please let me know. Otherwise I’ll assume you don’t need my assistance anymore.”

I left and made my way slowly back up the path and out to the ambulance. Jeremy was making conversation with San Tenma when I got there.

“That was quick,” said Jeremy. He tried to sound calm but there was a slight edge to his voice.

“Just a checklist to complete,” I said.

“Standard exit interview?” Jeremy asked, making it up. He knew there was no exit interview.

“No further assistance necessary,” I said, climbing back in.

Jeremy drove forward a little way up the street to turn around. As we drove back, I saw Amy Rivenstock walking towards the road, two cards in her hand held close to her chest. One was white and the other deep blue.

“Stop Jeremy,” I said.

Jeremy made a sound I couldn’t place and pulled over. When I looked at San Tenma’s face, it was fixed on the old lady. At once he began to struggle to bring his supports back up and I opened my door and got out, making room for him. He fell from the cab in his haste, but Amy came around the side to pick him up, tears in her eyes, as both cards fluttered to the ground. I helped San Tenma to his feet and leaned him back against the ambulance.

“Li, it’s you isn’t it?”

Amy was crying gently, holding it under her breath.

“I don’t want to see you, I didn’t want you to see me this way.”

“Li, I don’t want you to see me this way either, but I can’t help what I am in this world,” he begged her, “Please, come back with me, at least talk to me again.”

Amy shook her head.

“Tenma, you can’t, we can’t live together,” she said.

Tenma shook his head.

“We don’t have to live here,” he told her, “We can be as we were, living in the server.”

Amy stepped back.

“I’ve only just gotten over you, Tenma, I don’t want to go through that again if we run out of money.”

With what seemed like a great deal of effort, the still young, crippled asian man dropped to one knee, grimacing as he went down. He lowered his support to the ground, then fished something out of his pocket, opening it as he did.

“You know my father runs the private server. The Mindspace rules are different in Australia. We can live there as we did, forever. One day I’ll inherit all of that and we can run the system from the inside. Fully immersed with implants, not just external haptics and partial neurological connections.”

I saw a glint of light reflect from the small box. Quantum enhanced diamond that absorbed non-visible spectrum light and re-emitted it in the visible spectrum. It was worth about a year’s salary to someone like me.

“And Li, I want you to be my wife again. I know they don’t recognize Mindspace marriages in the Americas, so I want to marry you in the real world too,” he said.

Amy stepped back, covering her face as dark mascara and tears seeped between her fingers. She was crying loudly now. I stepped forward, thinking she was going to fall backwards, but she held out a hand to stop me. Her voice was angry now.

“Mister Carlson, you should not have come here,” she threw the words at me, but she covered her face again before she could say more.

For his part, Tenma just remained there, kneeling, holding the box up towards her. If she was going to tear his heart out again, she had to do it to his face now. Amy lowered her fingers until she was looking at us again, then stepped forward and closed the box. At first I thought this was about to go badly for all of us, but she pulled Tenma up by his hand and then hugged him close to her, which he returned.

I wandered around to the far side of the ambulance and Jeremy followed. I think we waited about ten or so minutes, the quiet sounds of their conversation audible but not understandable. Then they came around the back of the ambulance.

“Mister Carlson, I’ll take my husband to the airport. There is no need for you to wait here further,” said Amy as she walked back over the grass.

Jeremy and I got into the ambulance and left. After we reached the inspection station and waited for them to check the ambulance, Jeremy finally spoke.

“We’re both going to lose our jobs if she complains,” he said.

“Yeah,” was all I could think of to say.

“So what are you going to do if you lose your job?” he asked.

“I don’t know, remote haz-work I guess,” I said, “How about you?”

“I’m screwed Jon, I actually like my job,” he said.

“I’m really sorry about that,” I said.

After a short silence, Jeremy spoke again.

“You don’t tend to do what you’re told to do you?” he said.

I shook my head.

“Demon-unit psych told me that once too,” I said.

“He was right,” Jeremy added.

I didn’t correct him that it had been a she and she was an AI. It reminded me too much of another AI I was missing.

#

The next day we quietly went through our morning checks as we loaded up for another patient. This one was a long-term lifer, not too far out in timeframes from Peter. There were complications also, in that the routine tests suggested that there was a significant risk of complication in the procedure. There had been long-running hearings prior to the eviction, the lifer claiming that he could not return to the real world and fighting the inevitable.

When the court finally allowed the provider to cut off his bandwidth, then the options were to stay in a limited simulated world, which his scaffold was capable of, or to leave. He refused to make a decision about re-entering the world he had turned his back on. Because of that, there would be both court agents and the paras there. Most of that didn’t really bother us. The only thing on Jeremy’s and my mind was hoping that Amy Rivenstock hadn’t made a complaint against us.

The weather seemed to reflect our mood as we drove along, the skies overcast and grey with the drizzle slowly obscuring our vision until we had to do something about it with a quick wipe of the windscreen. It led to an unusual quietness between us as we drove out to the next client, wondering who would break the silence first.

It was Jeremy.

“Jon, there’s just one thing I want to know,” he said, still watching the road.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“How do you make the determination about which rules you’re going to break?” he asked.

“You mean like yesterday?” I asked, wanting to make sure there was no confusion.

“Yeah, I mean like yesterday. Privacy rules are there for a reason, so how do you determine, inside your head, which rules to break,” he asked.

I tried to examine his tone for any sign of anger or an argument beginning, but his tone was neutral. I decided to answer it honestly.

“Rules to stop abuse are there for that reason. If you aren’t abusing the situation, then I don’t see any reason to follow the rule,” I said.

“So how do you know if you’re abusing the situation?” he asked.

His response came so quickly on the heels of mine that I wondered if he had thought this through, anticipating my own answer.

“I guess it depends on whether or not your motivation is evil,” I said.

“Evil?” asked Jeremy.

“Evil. I figure if I do no evil, then sometimes breaking the rules is all right,” I said.

Jeremy thought about that for a while, then asked me another question.

“How do you tell if something is good or evil then?” he asked.

“Evil’s easy,” I said.

“Well?” Jeremy prompted.

“Evil’s when you push your agenda over someone elses. When you assert your beliefs over somebody’s contrary beliefs. That’s evil,” I said.

“How did you get that definition?” Jeremy asked.

“It was something my mother told me once when I was young. I guess it kind of explains some of the choices I’ve made… the things I’ve done,” I said, resting my arm on the open window as I avoided Jeremy’s gaze. I knew something about committing evil.

“And in Amy Rivenstock’s case?” Jeremy asked.

“I couldn’t take Tenma to her, because his agenda might have overridden hers, but I could allow her the knowledge of what his agenda was.”

I turned to Jeremy and continued.

“The decision was hers, Jeremy. She had the chance to decide what she wanted to do and she made her choice. At worst I inconvenienced her but that’s not evil,” I said.

“She was hurt by our actions yesterday,” Jeremy reminded me.

I recalled her in tears when she spoke to the man who had been her husband.

“Jeremy, if I really thought she didn’t want to see him or if I had any reason to even suspect that he might be possessive of her, I wouldn’t have led them together. But I spoke to both of them and they were genuine. I’m pretty sure that the only reason she didn’t want to contact him is that she was ashamed of her age.”

“Why so?” Jeremy questioned.

“She’s an old woman in this world Jeremy but in Mindspace she’s younger than me. I knew both wanted to be together and it was genuine. The only reason she didn’t want him to see her again was her age. I’m sure of it. So I gave her a choice. When I went in I let her know what the offer was and I let her make the decision. All I did was set up the circumstances of that decision so she knew she had a chance to take it. In the end, what we did was wrong and everything we do has consequences. Not acting has consequences too.”

“Not acting wouldn’t get us fired,” Jeremy said.

“Not doing anything was the safe option but it wasn’t really right was it? Because of what I did, at worse, two people go away hurt. At best, they have a chance to find out what their life really means to them.”

“You knew you were risking your career when you did it Jon, so it’s not like there wasn’t a price to pay.”

I nodded slowly.

“I don’t like interfering in people’s lives, although you might not think it at times, but one of them came to me asking for help when he had no other options left. I like to think someone might take that kind of risk for me one day.”

Jeremy was silent for a while.

“What’s in it for you Jon? Other than a vague hope someone might help you in kind some day?”

The question was deeper than I had expected. Most of the time, we talked about pretty light subjects so this sudden turn in the topic was almost as uncomfortable as the silence.

“I don’t honestly know. I guess it’s because I recall the one time that I didn’t do anything when I should have. I still live with that. I never ever want to make the same mistake again.”

“You’re a difficult person to understand at times,” Jeremy said.

“So my psych said also,” I added.

Jeremy nodded and drove silently the rest of the way to the client’s location.

* * * *

Chapter 16 - Fallen

We set up and connected quickly as the court agents double-checked that this was the correct scaffold. This place was a commercial scaffold center and was significantly different to any of the ones I had visited so far.

Within the huge building, scaffolds were lined up over three levels on a matrix of support beams. Power cables and fiber bundles ran through open-faced conduit before snaking their way out to each scaffold.

It was a different concept in setting up long-term scaffold work. Home scaffolds were designed for people who come out once in a while to look after their own bodies. This place was purpose designed for people who sold their homes as the first step towards paying the huge costs of connection.

“This is usually one of our more regular stops,” said Jeremy as checked everything had gone together correctly.

“I haven’t been here before,” I said.

“That’s because we haven’t had one here for a while, but you might see it every week for a short period of time,” Jeremy said.

From the size of this area, it looked like it might hold a hundred or more scaffolds.

“How many people are here?” I asked.

“All up?” Jeremy reasoned, “Perhaps three to four hundred over three buildings.”

There was a noise behind me and I saw Janet coming in behind us with two other paras in tow. I smiled and got one in return. Then I just waited and looked at the patient we were to help. Beneath the full-body haptic interface, his skin had a slightly blue hue.

“He doesn’t look too good,” I said.

Jeremy threw a backpack of equipment over onto the cot and walked to the side of the scaffold.

“His stats are fine though,” he said.

I walked behind the scaffold and stood back, next to the court appointed officer. He looked like he might be a bailiff also.

“What happened to this guy?” I asked.

“He ran out of money, just like the rest of them,” said the officer.

Janet walked up and came around the side of the cot also.

“Jon, you’re looking a lot better. I see the face healed up well, no scars.”

She stepped forward and hugged me. It felt a little strange, but it was nice.

“How are things?” I asked.

“Good, good,” she said smiling, “And I hear that Jeremy’s been seen around the late district too.”

Jeremy, who had just started configuring his console popped up at that.

“News travels fast,” he said, looking at me as if I had said something.

I held up my hands to let him know it wasn’t me.

“I saw you one night,” said Janet, “Would that be your new girlfriend hanging off your arm by any chance?”

Jeremy ignored the question and ducked back under the scaffold to continue connecting the cables.

“Tall, thin, pretty, not wearing a lot of clothes but what she did have looked good?” I asked.

“Hmn, mn,” hummed Janet.

“That would be her,” I said. If Jeremy was going to think I would tell Janet, I might as well.

“All right, yeah, if you must know, she’s my new girl. It’s still new, so don’t go ragging me if you see us out at night all right?” Jeremy said, coming up to shake a tool of some sort at us as he did so.

Janet gave him an approving look, “Well it’s about time. A guy like you is a premium catch. I even thought about going after you myself a few times.”

I smiled at the irony. Fate’s strange like that. You spend so much of your time chasing the people you can’t have that you don’t see the ones you can. Jeremy got a dumbstruck look on his face as he checked his cot controls. I’m pretty sure he thought she was just joking about it to make him feel better, but I think she meant it. At least a little.

“Is this guy all right?” she asked as she looked at the exposed parts of the patient.

“Jeremy said that the stats are fine,” I said.

She leaned over and checked them herself, apparently satisfied with what she was looking at.

“You’re on,” said Jeremy, also satisfied with his cot work.

I swung up and onto the cot.

Jeremy didn’t need to ask questions anymore and as I lay back, I felt the world disengage around me as I fell into another.

#

I was sitting in an open elevator door at the front of the building near where we had come in. The Mindspace concierge looked at me, wondering why I was standing there.

“Jeremy, I’m not near the scaffold,” I said.

“Sorry, forgot to say, this place virtually shifts people. You come out in the lobby elevator in the ‘space.”

I stepped out and walked through the lobby into the open space beyond, watching as several cars drove past. I wondered if they were virtual or simply representative. Either way, this didn’t look like private server space at all.

“Jeremy, something’s not right here,” I called back.

“How’s that?” Jeremy asked.

“This all looks like public server. I can’t see anything that looks like a CGI,” I told him.

There was a pause, then Jeremy came back.

“Looks like the connection to the outside is still active so you’ve probably gone the wrong way from the CGI,” he said.

“This is a public space, how can I bring him back?” I called out, wondering what people would make of me talking to myself even in Mindspace.

“Wait, Bailiff said there’s a new private CGI in the hotel. You need to re-enter and use the lobby.”

“The hotel?” I asked.

“Usually you can’t enter or leave during an eviction but somehow you’ve walked out into Mindspace. You need to return to the lobby before we both end up explaining why we’re breaking the rules.”

Jeremy wasn’t supposed to communicate directly with me like this in Mindspace. I returned to the lobby. The concierge looked at me as I approached, his expression something between disdain and a forced smile.

“Hello, I’m looking for David Fielding,” I said.

“I thought you might be coming today, are you with the courts or the Samaritans?” he asked.

“Samaritans, although the Bailiff’s present,” I said.

“Mister Fielding is on the third floor.”

I looked at him for directions. After a moment, he nodded in the direction of the elevator I had come out of.

“Room three fifteen,” said the concierge as I entered the elevator and selected the third floor.

“I thought you came here often,” I said to Jeremy as the elevator ascended.

“Normally you’re sent straight to the floor but I guess the connection to open Mindspace changes things. Be careful while you’re there. The rules are different at the mo…” Jeremy said before he stopped mid-word.

“Jeremy?” I asked.

“Yeah, at the moment. Sorry, Janet’s doing something up here that distracted me.”

I wondered at what was happening on the outside as I moved up to the apartment door and knocked. There was no response.

“Mister Fielding, can I speak to you a moment?” I called out.

I could force the door with the access Jeremy had, but it wasn’t polite. I knocked again and the door swung open a crack. I heard footsteps from within. I waited a few moments and called again. When there was no answer I opened it fully and looked around from the threshold. It appeared as though no one was in the room.

“Jon, is everything in there all right?” Jeremy called. He sounded nervous.

“Yeah, I think the guy’s just a little bothered by our presence, why?”

I walked in as I spoke, peering into the unlit roomspace. I flipped the lightswitch but nothing came on. The apartment wasn’t that large but the lifer seemed to have decided to hide.

“Mister Fielding,” I called out.

“Jon this is a no-go, He’s dead,” Jeremy suddenly broke in again.

“Say again?” I asked, quietly, so as not to spook the lifer. It seemed that he should be here.

“I mean he’s dead, Jon. Janet just cut his finger and there’s no blood,” Jeremy came back.

I felt the hair rise on the back of my neck, virtual as it was.

“How did his signs deteriorate so quickly? I thought his scaffold would have life support,” I said back.

“I don’t know,” said Jeremy, “All I can say is that this guy’s been dead for a while though I can’t say how long. Looks like his scaffold wasn’t being maintained and someone reprogrammed it to show him as alive and well even though his organs probably failed more than a few hours ago. Janet’s cutting away the haptics but the Bailiff doesn’t want her interfering with the body or the scaffold because it looks like it’s going to become a police matter.”

I stood there in the darkened apartment.

“So what do we do?” I called back.

I felt a shiver move up my spine as I waited for a response.

“Jeremy?” I called.

“Jon, get out of there now,” I heard a broken voice transmission then a crackling sound at the end suggested it was gone.

I turned to leave but saw a shadow move in front of me before the shock from a military stunner hit me and my knees crumpled. The ground came up quickly as they maintained the beam and I sagged into a heap on the thin virtual carpet.

“Hello Jonathan, did you miss us?” a voice trailed through the room.

I heard several pairs of footsteps. I tried to move but the stun wave maintained the paralysis. I could still speak though.

“Louis, what are you doing?” I spat out, as difficult as it was.

The door closed.

“You can release the stunner, Robert,” said Louis as he leaned over me.

I felt my muscle control return after they released the stunner and the lights came on.

Technology like that shouldn’t work in here but with the connection to Mindspace open, the rules were different as Jeremy had said. Someone must be feeding this server data from a military simulation. I doubted my former squadmates would have taken up residence in the hotel so that meant they were transferring in through the CGI as well.

I threw myself over to one side before getting up, but a well-placed kick that drove itself deep into my solar plexus took the wind from me. I dropped back to the ground, falling into the corner between the floor and the wall.

“Jeremy, pull me,” I called out, needing an exit now and not wanting to wait around to see what would happen.

The words came out gasped, without volume, my lungs still struggling for air. A quiet laugh echoed in the small space.

“Jeremy,” I gasped.

“Don’t bother,” said Louis, squatting before me.

One of his hands was missing now, just a stump where the flesh and bone, as virtual as it was in here, used to be.

“Good work Robert,” said Patrick.

“Some of my best,” Robert called back.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“You know Robert, Jon. He’s a pretty good hacker. Actually, he’s an exceptional hacker and I expect he’s going to become famous for this one. He’s broken the gateway and maintained an in-server connection during an eviction which is impressive, but not unheard of. Then he managed to hack your very own cot. Right now, he’s reprogrammed your life support system inside your neuro interfaces.”

Joel stepped forward.

“In fact, we’re so deep within your head, you belong to us,” he goaded.

“That’s not possible,” I gasped.

“Why would you think that?” asked Louis.

“You can’t hack implants, they’re local-only,” I said.

Robert laughed at that.

“Jonathan, Jonathan, you really don’t get it do you?” he asked.

I didn’t respond so he kept on talking.

“Our own government gave us implants that they could control. Implants that would let them take any one of us and eliminate us. They originally designed the code for the remote interrogation of prisoners since Mindspace isn’t covered by any conventions. But they included it in our own implants in case they ever needed to deal with one of us.”

I coughed, my vision still swimming.

“How could you know that?” I asked.

“Jonathan, our own government lied to us, they let us down. They always had a way to stop the Demons even if they couldn’t remotely access us,” Louis said.

“They figured if one of us ever went rogue, they might need the capability to remove us from the battlefield if the battlefield, say, became their own backyard and we weren’t responding as ordered. People like you have always shown them not everyone follows orders, so they put in a failsafe,” said Robert.

“And you know, they never even stopped to think that our enemies would find it. All they needed was an implant to process and they cracked the encryption wide open like it was written on paper,” Louis finished.

The implications were staggering. If there was a backdoor to the neuroimplants, one intended to remove a Demon from combat then the government-implanted failsafe had a huge flaw. Arilssman had been in lockdown for weeks. It couldn’t be a co-incidence.

“You’re a traitor,” I spat at him.

Louis smiled.

“You always were quick you bastard but it’s all over now,” he said sarcastically.

“Why? Do you expect me to join you?” I asked.

Laughter broke out amongst the section at that, but Louis just smiled.

“Join us? Jon, we wouldn’t let you join us even if you begged me and I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”

The others dived in then, kicking me while I was down. Unable to defend myself, I struggled to breath as they dragged me through into the kitchen and threw me up on the bench before holding me down. At first I fought, but that only put my limbs into positions where they were less flexible. Against the entire section, I had no chance. Bones bent agonizingly before they broke. One by one all of my other limbs were forced down and tied to the table.

I screamed as bone bit through virtual flesh, the pain just as sharp as if this had happened in the real world. Each nerve signal was calculated by the Mindspace node and faithfully passed into my nervous system by the neuro-implants. Someone began shoving something into my mouth stifling the sound, but then it came out and I saw Louis’ hand retrieving it.

“No, let him scream, there’s nothing anyone can do to help him. Robert’s partitioned us,” he said.

I screamed some more as my own struggling began to further tear my wounds. Louis pulled out a long knife. I had seen it before, under equally dire circumstances inside another virtual world.

“I’d like to have made this slow, much slower, but we really don’t have much time. Our new employers have a very important task for us to complete.”

Patrick pushed his face over mine.

“Yeah, and after we finish that I’m going to fuck Susan while I tell her how we ripped your guts out.”

In my present state of mind, it felt like Susan and Rachel were the same person.

“Leave her alone, you bastard,” I screamed, still in agony from my broken arms.

They began to laugh as Louis made his first cut. The pain from the broken arm was excruciating, but it wasn’t enough to cover the feeling of being ripped open at the stomach. The slow cut felt like someone punching their way inside me. I opened my mouth to scream, but my air was gone and I had trouble breathing. I couldn’t tell if it was what they had done to me or if it was just the agony. I continued to writhe on the table, the unending torment dissolving all sense of time or place while the laughter and abuse continued.

I don’t know why I didn’t lose consciousness but as my mind tried to flee I recalled another who had suffered like this while I did nothing. AIs shouldn’t experience agony like that, not like I was experiencing now. There was something vaguely karmic to it as no one came to help me either. The last memories I have were of my eviscerated organs being paraded before me, my head held up to see as they forced my eyes open.

I saw a gun too. I didn’t see it go off.

* * * *

Chapter 17 - Descent

The world dissolved around me and the pain started to fade. At first it was still too much to open my eyes but as the sensations of agony slowly drained away, I found I could see once again. It took me a while to uncurl myself and realize that I wasn’t quite dead, although I didn’t know quite what I was. I lay there for a short time just trying to gain control of my breathing which was still shallow and racing.

“Mister Carlson?” I heard a voice.

I turned my head slowly, my mind still groggy with the memory of pain and the endorphins it must have created. Laura was sitting on the ground beside me.

“Run,” was all I managed to say. I was still confused and disoriented.

“Your experience has been too short to leave permanent trauma. You need to pull yourself together, Mister Carlson,” she said, “I need your help.”

It took me a several seconds then to realize I wasn’t still dying and a nearly a full minute to just swing myself around and crawl to my knees. I took a long, deep breath just to prove to myself that my lungs were working voluntarily once more. The dirty apartment was gone, as were my tormentors. I examined my new surrounds to try and work out what was happening. I was on a slight embankment, mostly grass but turning to sand as it approached a small pool perhaps thirty meters across. The pool itself was fed from a waterfall that cascaded over rocks before a short drop, barely long enough to mist the fall.

Surrounding us were trees, sparse at first but increasingly dense beyond this small pool. The sky above me was blue, the light from the sun breaking through the foliage canopy, leaving slight rays in the airborne pollen. For some reason it felt comfortably familiar. I could remember dreams of places such as this when I was very young.

“What is this place?” I asked, my voice working again even if my breath was still a little ragged.

“This is personal space, a private node. All angels have a place like this where they can go when they want to be alone. A place where they can dream,” she answered slowly.

“Is this Heaven?” I asked.

She turned her face away from me now.

“Yes but it may not be what you think it is,” she said then her voice hardened, “Mister Carlson, I need you to focus. My daughter has been taken and I don’t have anyone else to turn to.”

My mind was still slow to think it through. I could see tears forming in her human-looking eyes.

“Staci? How could anyone take Staci? I don’t understand,” I said as I tried to control my breathing. My head was starting to clear. Staci wasn’t real. It wasn’t possible to take her.

“You know of the Mindspace nodes. You know what Angels are don’t you?” Laura questioned.

I nodded.

“She was transferred to her own node after she was accepted as an Angel. They’ve taken her virtualised Mindspace node.”

I struggled to understand what Laura was telling me.

“They? Arilssman?”

“Not Arilssman, your former associates, Mister Carlson.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re the only one I can ask for help as events are occurring that are outside of my influence. My sisters are not fully able to assist me at this time and I need someone who can do what I cannot,” she explained slowly, seemingly for my benefit.

Her words were clear but I still couldn’t understand what she was telling me.

“You need to explain what’s going on. I don’t understand,” I said slowly to Laura.

“There is an attack against the Arilssman facility underway, specifically the MIND project,” she said.

“It’s well defended,” I said, “Older Demons won’t be able to launch a sufficient attack to breach the facility anymore.”

“It wasn’t defended at all. They reverse engineered the override codes for the Arilssman implants and shut them down. They attacked the other pilots the same way they attacked you,” Laura explained, “They have already begun to remove nodes and inside Mindspace, there is nothing I can do.”

My chest felt tight, my thoughts unclear.

“I don’t have any idea how to help you,” I said.

“Those men who were trying to kill you, you know who they are.”

I nodded slowly and I wished I hadn’t. A slow rage was building inside me against Louis and the others. I wanted to hurt them, no longer satisfied to just bring them down. Torture has that effect on people my instructors told me once.

“Demon pilots,” I said, “My former squad.”

Laura nodded at my answer but I had come to realize my life was almost an open book to her.

“They no longer work for the state. After the altercation in which Rachel was involved they were discharged. In their eagerness to avenge themselves against you they have formed an alliance with those who attacked the Arilssman facility. That is how they got direct access to your Mindspace session and subverted the lockout so they could access your implants directly.”

I tried to get my head around it.

“So you’re telling me that Louis Bale was kicked out and he’s signed on to a mercenary group that possesses Demons. He did this just so he could kill me and now he’s taken your daughter?” I asked.

Laura seemed unimpressed with my overly simplistic summary.

“Not just any Demons, Mister Carlson, next generation models. A new war is about to begin and we are both going to be caught up in it. This world as you know it is not long to continue in its present form,” Laura said.

“I don’t understand,” I responded.

“And you may never understand but if you will agree to help I will do what I can to assist,” she said.

I thought about it for a moment. I don’t know how Louis managed to do what he did or how I escaped his murderous torture. I wanted to kill him with my own hands for what he did to me. But common sense told me anger alone wasn’t going to stop a Demon.

“As much as I want to bring Louis down, I can’t help you Laura. I don’t have any weapons. You need to contact the police and the military.”

“Things are complicated and I don’t have time to explain. Mister Carlson, I’m willing to do anything to save my daughter. I may not be real to you but I’m not without means. I’ll find some way to pay you for your help.”

“Laura, they’re armed and I don’t have any means to fight. I care about Staci, really I do, but I’m powerless to help. You need to speak to,” I said before she cut me off.

“I can provide you access to weapons and equipment. Please Mister Carlson, Staci is everything that’s important to me.”

I saw the tears on Laura’s face running freely. Virtual tears on a simulated person. It shook my understanding of what she was. Were all AIs deeper than they appeared or just the ones I had met recently?

“Did Peter ask you to contact me?”

“Peter doesn’t know what’s happened yet. For his sake, I can’t let him know.”

“Why?”

“Because if Peter finds out, he will take action that will affect the outcome of the MIND project and that would be the end of us,” Laura explained.

“How, Laura. How could things be so difficult that I’m the only person who can help?”

“Mister Carlson, Angels can’t use force. If Peter finds out then so will the Angels. What do you think is going to happen when they learn their little sister has been kidnapped by armed mercenaries? You’re an accomplished Demon pilot. You know that my sisters will die trying to stop them and those that don’t die will be assassinated by the Asimov committee. You’re the only one I can ask to help me before it’s too late.”

I thought it through. There was too much missing from my knowledge of what was going on. Too much I didn’t know. All my training told me to refuse. I knew instinctively I would be getting in too deep and there would be no way out at the end for me if I took the action Laura was asking.

Then a memory I had been trying to keep suppressed for a long time came to the surface. Another AI that Louis had taken. Louis hasn’t raped that girl because he needed to. He did it because he wanted to. That’s when I realized what he really was.

The memories of that day flashed back before me. Images of a girl not much older than Staci, eyes begging me to do something, anything… Why me? Why did she single me out with her dying plead? Then it was Staci in the memory, looking up from the table and begging me. Louis would show her no mercy while she was being subverted. I felt my bile rise in my stomach and my anger reached its crescendo.

“Tell me what I have to do to help you.”

“There are prototype Demons at Arilssman that will give you an advantage.”

“You said they killed the other pilots.”

“They will not have access to you. Once you are in one of the prototypes, I will reprogram your implants to remove the failsafe.”

“How do I get a prototype?”

“You need to get yourself to Arilssman as soon as possible. The fighting will be well underway or over by the time you get there. Avoid direct contact or engaging any enemy combatants – I need you alive.”

“Is there anything else I need to know?”

“I will brief you on the way.”

There was still one thing left unsaid. Never leave anything unsaid before the battle.

“Thankyou, Laura, for pulling me out of that hell I was in.”

“Please hurry Mister Carlson. You need to return to your body now.”

“Will I need to go back through Mindspace first?”

Even if Louis wasn’t waiting for me, I had no wish to transition back into the session that Laura had saved me from. I didn’t even want to think about the possibility that my simulated body might be waiting for me also, ripped apart on the kitchen table.

“You will transition directly back into your world,” Laura said, “but it won’t be pleasant.”

What could be more unpleasant than what I had already gone through? Before I got to ask, I felt the transition.

#

Jeremy was crouched over me as I opened my eyes and it felt like he was trying to crush me with his hands. For a moment I thought I was back in that room being cut apart. The senstation didn’t last long and my my mind cleared as my propriaceptive senses snapped back at once. I hadn’t expected my neuro-implants to realign themselves instantly and the sudden shock echoed agony throughout my entire nervous system.

A face came down over mine and I felt it touch my mouth before stale air that smelt slightly perfumed and a little like apple filled my throat. I felt myself retch and bump teeth against whoever it was before I rolled off the cot, and fell to the floor. The heaving of my stomach intensified until I felt it evacuating as it had so often in the past hour. I pulled on something for support and it didn’t hold me. There was a crash as the cot fell over, pulling Jeremy with it. Tools and cases clattered loudly as hey hit the mesh floor. A stream of obscenity poured from Jeremy’s mouth and I felt my head being pulled up, then a bright light filled my vision as my stomach spasmed.

“Jonathan, can you hear me?” Janet shouted into my face, the slight smell of apple there.

I threw up again and struggled to wipe my mouth with my sleeve. Then as I crouched beside the upset cot, I heard a single ringing sound followed by a click as my phone auto-answered.

“You need to move now, Mister Carlson,” I barely heard the voice project from my pocket.

Still disoriented, at first I thought I was back in Mindspace but Jeremy and Janet’s presence convinced me otherwise. It took some effort but with the rails on the side of the walkway, I managed to pull myself up. I looked around briefly to convince myself that I was back and that the experience I had had was little more than a bad dream. Somewhere I knew the intent had been different but for the moment, I needed to function normally. The best way to do that was to ignore what had just happened and focus on what needed to be.

“Jonathan, you need to lay down,” Janet said, gripping my arm.

I shook her grip loose.

“Go outside and find a vehicle,” Laura reminded me from the phone.

I reached into my pocket and pulled free the ear tab and pushed it into my ear.

”Jonathan, where are you going?” called Jeremy as I ran down the escape stairs and through the lower hall, the taste of bile still on my tongue.

I ignored him as I ran on.

“What happened back there?” I asked the Laura.

“Your circulation and breathing were shut down. Virtual death can be every bit as real as physical if your implants process the instructions and pass them on to your body,” Laura said.

My chest felt badly bruised. Jeremy and Janet had been keeping me alive while my lungs and heart stopped. I wondered for a moment what would have happened if Laura hadn’t resynchronized my mind and my body they way she did. I didn’t even know it was possible. The ambulance was outside where we left it, parked almost at the front of the facility. Pulling it open, I realized I didn’t have any access codes.

“I can’t start this thing without the codes,” I called out to Laura across the phone connection.

“Just use the override button. It’s located on the side of the column.”

Climbing in, I felt my way around the steering wheel column with my hands until I felt a small knob. Twisting, pushing and then finally pulling it, it came out with a click. Then the engine started into life almost immediately and I felt the ambulance begin to move forward by itself.

The vehicle surged and I gripped the wheel, steering it down the street. I saw Jeremy running out of the scaffold facility just as I passed him. He seemed both surprised and agitated but I wasn’t sure that stopping for him was a good idea.

“Laura, I need you to tell me more about what’s going on.”

“I’m sorry but I cannot do that,” she said, “At least not until this is over.”

The secrecy surrounding what was happening at Arilssman was starting to grate on my patience. It’s not as if I wasn’t familiar with being kept I the dark – that was daily life in the Demon unit, but it usually didn’t involve people I cared about. No matter how much I thought I understood about Angels, it seemed there was always something more that I wasn’t supposed to know about. Would she tell me what was happening?

“Can you at least tell me what I might need to know so I can help you?” I asked.

Did she understand that I needed to know something about what she expected of me? There was a long pause as the ambulance kicked around the corner. Several other autonomous vehicles nearby suddenly took evasive action to avoid us as their computer systems registered the possible threat. I felt the vehicle begin to slide and turned the wheel into the spin. The engine suddenly changed tone as it fed more power into the engine than it was designed to handle. I took a guess that Laura had hacked into the constraints on the ambulance. We continued to slide sideways across several lanes as I eased us between two cars.

“Laura, are you trying to kill me before I even get there?” I found myself yelling.

“Special operations are taught to drive under adverse conditions are they not? I will maintain the optimum speed until you reach the facility,” Laura said.

The back of the vehicle slowly came into line with the front end and we straightened up. I kicked at the useless accelerator pedal but it didn’t seem to make any difference. Laura chose that moment, before I could yell at her, to start briefing me.

“The attack is still underway, Mister Carlson. The previous attack was thought to be an isolated incident however it’s now clear that they always intended to steal the Angel MIND nodes. The Military Interactive Neurolinked Diorama is the core project that created everything that you take for granted. Several mercenary Demons were stopped during the last attack. The probability is that the sponsors are rival corporations within the Asian Union. The public disgracing of your former squad provided them an opportunity to correct their earlier failure before they missed their window of opportunity.”

The traffic was still light at this time of the day but I wasn’t confident that I could handle the ambulance correctly without manual control.

“Laura, give me the accelerator,” I yelled, interrupting the briefing.

“I can control your speed far more effectively,” Laura suggested

“Are you holding the wheel or am I?”

I kicked the pedal twice more then felt something change. I had control over the ambulance now.

“You can’t overdrive the motors, Mister Carlson. Are you sure you don’t want me to take over that for you.”

“This is just fine, now please keep filling me in,” I said back, “I believe you just got to the part where you said Louis had gone freelance just so he could have a piece of me.”

It wasn’t just Louis, I reminded myself. We all took sides that night. I chose the lonely side. The rest of the squad sided with Louis. They all wanted to kill me

“That appears to be at least partially the situation,” said Laura, “Though I would imagine a significant sum of money and asylum are part of the offer.”

I felt a surge of adrenalin as the anger coursed though again, but it felt a lot more controlled than it had shortly after I escaped their trap. The memories of the torture were already fading. Laura was right; even after an experience like that I had come out of it without any permanent damage and I could forget it if I wanted to. Except I didn’t want to forget. I wanted to remember the detail of what they had done to me and what they would still do to countless other victims. What they might do to Staci, given an opportunity and if I was given an opportunity, I was going to stop them.

Closer to the main gate I could see the facility over the heavy wall that surrounded the perimeter. It didn’t look like it was under attack. No smoke, no gunfire, no panic. I started to wonder if Laura wasn’t perhaps under some form of illusion. From what I could see from the road running alongside the main campus, the place looked as remote and isolated as it always did.

“How far underway is this present attack? Can we find a back way in?” I asked.

“That won’t be possible anymore Mister Carlson. They’ve already breached the perimeter and are disassembling virtualized mind nodes as we speak. You will need to follow them through the facility to avoid them,” she said.

I turned into the road that ran up to the main gate. In the distance I could hear several sirens and noticed that two strobes were flashing near the entrance. It looked like the police had responded to the situation and were already waving me down. I backed off the accelerator a little then felt the speed pick up again.

“Laura,” I said.

“Do not slow down.”

“There are police there, we need to stop.”

“They will move. Please do not stop.”

Ahead of me was the main gate. Both huge Simians stood there silently as I approached, unmoving but armed. Here I was accelerating directly towards their checkpoint without slowing and I knew what should come next. The police were waving frantically now and one appeared to be moving to the side while reaching to his belt. I hoped he wasn’t reaching for a sidearm.

They clearly wanted me to stop but with the accelerator jammed I didn’t have any choice. The kerbs were too high and our speed too fast to drive off the road and Laura wasn’t going to relinquish control. I saw the police vehicle lights intensify then and for a moment expected the Demons to shred me. I would find out any moment now if what Laura was telling me was accurate. The vehicle speed continued to climb and the ambulance strobe lights lit up in response.

“Laura, what’s going on?” I called out.

“You need more speed,” she said.

“There’s two Simians and police there waiting to stop me,” I said, pumping the ineffective brake.

I sounded the horn as I saw a sidearm come free of its holster while the other officer at the gate held out their hands as if they could slow a vehicle of this size. For a brief moment I considered trying to turn and crash into the side fence where I would no doubt be arrested. I tensed my knuckles and prepared to jerk the wheel.

“Jon, please trust me,” Laura begged.

Laura wasn’t telling me everything but she did rescue me and I knew something was going on that I couldn’t explain. I aimed the ambulance directly at the center of the gate where it would be least likely to tangle if the gate didn’t come off its rails cleanly. Just before I struck it, the officer in front of me darted to the side.

A shudder passed through the ambulance as it rammed into the light mesh and steel barrier. The gate itself ripped free as more alarms went off and bollards popped up out of the road just behind me. In my rear view mirror I saw a police vehicle pull up just behind them.

“Laura, we might have been killed then,” I screamed out.

“The pilots in those Simians are already dead, Mister Carlson. If the Simians could have responded, I might not have come after you and events would have taken a different direction.”

“But they weren’t even connected to the network while on active duty.”

“The Demons of unit three were removed from the fight before the first shots were fired,” Laura confirmed.

I realized then with certainty how close I had come to ending my time inside the sick simulation Robert had established for Louis.

“Laura, if the Simians weren’t disabled, would I have died?”

There was a pause.

“Your companions would have still attempted to save you, as in fact they did Mister Carlson,” the voice said.

I thought back to it, then realized that my heart had already arrested when I came out. Unless Jeremy and Janet were able to keep me alive until someone removed my failing implants, I would indeed have been very dead by now.

“But they wouldn’t have been successful, would they,” I said.

“No, Mister Carlson, they probably would not have been able to save you.”

“Do you really hate me that much Laura?” I asked.

He voice softened as she answered.

“Rachel believes she loves you. Do you really think I would have let you die had I known of the circumstances? Had the Simian pilots not been attacked then I would not have come looking for you and would not have known of your predicament,” she explained gently.

I grunted my only response, holding it in my throat. I guess I believed her. We continued to accelerate towards the building, manual control returning to me just in time to slow before I entered the courtyard for the lobby. As I turned the last corner, the extent of the present attack became apparent. The doors to the lobby were gone, blown clear and laying mangled inside. The sound of sporadic gunfire and grenades was audible now and I realized the fighting was closer than I imagined.

“The lobby is clear, Mister Carlson,” said Laura as I debated stopping and making my way in on foot.

I didn’t feel comfortable taking all of my intel from an AI but she did seem to have deeper knowledge than I did. I drove straight in through the exposed entrance, the tires of the ambulance squeaking on the slick polished floor in counterpoint to the glass being crushed. As I continued past the central desk, I saw the young lady who had been there the first day I visited laying on the floor. I hit the brakes, slewing the car sideways with a high pitched squeal. Yet as soon as the vehicle stopped, it started moving again.

“Laura, relinquish control,” I yelled out.

“You are in danger here,” she said.

“Dammit, if you want my help, give me control now,” I yelled, furious now she was attempting to make the decision for me yet again.

“You have control,” came the admonished voice then the vehicle stopped again suddenly as the brakes engaged.

“We’re going to have a problem if you do that again, Understood?”

Laura’s voice came back quieted.

“We have an understanding.”

Although I felt somewhat bad about putting her in her place, I couldn’t risk being forced into a bad decision. I realized she was only concerned about Staci, but as she had pointed out, she needed me alive to help her. I didn’t think I was going to stay that way for long if she began to interfere with my every decision.

I leapt from the cab and ran from the vehicle back towards the reception area. The injured receptionist was laying completely still. Her skin was pockmarked, ripped and stained with blood. It looked like secondary-shrapnel injuries. From the wounds, I guessed that Louis had sprayed the reception bench with explosive rounds before he entered. I felt for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there and I noticed the bleeding hadn’t completely stopped.

“Laura, where is the first aid?” I called out.

“It was in the cabinet to the side of her position,” came back the response.

I looked and noticed that the only cabinet to the side had been ripped apart by autocannon fire. Scooping the limp but light body from the ground, I ran towards the security office. If anywhere was still safe, it would be there. As ripped apart as it was, it was sheltered and there would be armored sections if it was anything like the military lockups I had spent time in.

“Mister Carlson, we are running out of time,” came the voice from the earpiece.

I ignored it and entered the security office. There were more bodies in here, including the guard who had helped me before. I paused momentarily, remembering that he had helped me. This was what war looked like every time I got close to it. Not every face was unfamiliar and given more time, I might have gotten to know him. Right now it just fuelled my rage.

They never even had a chance to defend themselves. They opened the racks of M-37s but from the way the rifles were scattered around the office, torn and broken, they were hit before they managed to even shoulder them. I moved past them and located an area clear of debris. Kicking a toppled table out of the way, I lowered the unconscious girl to the floor and then scanned the walls for a medical cabinet which I quickly located.

They didn’t have a lot there in the way of field dressings. Everything inside the cabinet was more for typical office injuries. Staplers didn’t usually cause soft-tissue trauma. I pulled out a can of spray-based coagulant and then sprayed each area where the girl was bleeding, pulling out small splinters of wood and metal as I went and leaving anything that looked like it might be dangerous.

When I got to her legs, I saw one ankle was broken, twisted at an odd angle so that it folded outwards. I wanted to do something about it, but time was short and I didn’t have much to spare. I located a small box of ACV1 painkillers and took a bottle of water from a broken vending machine, leaving them there beside her.

“Laura, where do I go next?” I asked, getting back to the task at hand.

“You need to arm yourself,” she said.

“Sure, where to next though?” I asked.

“Now, Mister Carlson, you need to find a weapon. I estimate you have fifteen to twenty seconds.”

I ran back into the front of the shattered security office. Most of the M-37s had been ripped apart, scorch marks testament to the damage a Milcap could do when ruptured. Not all of them were completely destroyed. I reached down and stripped a broken magazine from a rifle missing its Milcap. A Milcap from another with a damaged barrel and a magazine from one scorched by a shorted circuit.

As soon as the pieces were mostly assembled, I checked the Milcap indicator and saw it had full charge. I slammed it up into the receiver and the indicators on the rifle came up green.

I had just finished shouldering the rifle and arming the clip of two millimeter rounds when an explosion ripped through the reception area. Beyond the gaping hole in the wall, I saw the ambulance rolling sideways past, ripped apart and on fire.

“Jeremy’s not going to be happy, that’s the second one,” I said, my voice just a whisper.

“Two infantry, thirty meters, grenade launcher and LW-40,” said Laura.

An LW-40 was an older generation Asian union weapon. It was roughly equivalent to the M-19A1 in terms of firepower and deployment, but used a three point one millimeter round.

It wasn’t the sort of equipment that mercenaries should have been able to get hold of.

“Vector?” I asked quietly.

“Thirty two degrees to your right,” said Laura.

I stepped out of the security office and fired the M-37 directly into the head of the first mercenary, maintaining an automatic fire as I swept across the second. Both were wearing hard armor but the two millimeter rounds didn’t have much difficulty in getting through that, taking both in a single burst. Keeping my aim up, I ran over to them and confirmed they were both dead. Laura’s information was spot on.

“They know you’re here now,” said Laura, “I suggest you leave this area as quickly as you can.”

I ran past the shattered reception desk in the direction from which the sounds of fighting were loudest.

“That’s not the best way,” said Laura.

I stopped and crouched, waiting for an update. The air was chokingly thick with smoke and I held a handkerchief across my mouth with my free hand.

“Head to the back of the lobby and through the blue door. You’ll need to shoot out the hinges to get through, then go to the top level.”

With the walls so thoroughly shot up in here and the smoke from the ruined ambulance filling the air, it took me several seconds to locate and remove the stairwell door. At the top level there was very little damage except where some rounds made their way through from the floor. It was mostly executive offices up here.

“Rather fortunate that this place is mostly empty,” I casually remarked.

“Arilssman have not completed hiring new staff for their return to operation,” Laura said, “Had they, then the casualties would be far more numerous but the defenses would also have been satisfactory. This place hasn’t been fully operational for many years.”

“Is this why they had only a limited window of opportunity to make their grab?” I asked.

“It is one of the reasons. Keep moving up the corridor and please hurry. You’re heading in the right direction and I’ll alert you to any danger,” Laura said.

Despite Laura’s assurances, I still wasn’t convinced to follow her requests blindly. I spoke to her as I moved through each section, making sure the next was safe. It made more sense to maintain silence but I knew Laura wasn’t telling me everything. While I had no reason to believe she had lied to me, I didn’t think she was going to fill me in unless I pressed. Besides, if she really could see what was going on, then she would alert me if my voice was likely to compromise the mission. I still maintained my guard as I moved forward though.

“Sending Mercenaries to attack a military manufacturer can’t be the wisest move diplomatically,” I commented.

“I’m sure they cover their tracks expertly in the event that any of them are captured alive,” Laura responded.

“But there’s some things I don’t understand.”

“Such as?”

“Why would these people target Staci?”

“She was not their intended target, she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

I thought back to my tour of the Heaven faciity by Peter.

“What’s so special about these Mindspace nodes that the Chinese want them so badly, enough to risk a war? The make their own nodes don’t they?”

Laura went very quiet on the other end, then after a moment said, “Take the next corridor to the right.”

“You didn’t answer me,” I said, clearing the hall she had directed me.

“Police have entered the building. They won’t be far behind and will hinder your progress if they catch you,” Laura said, “So please hurry.”

I let the question go for the moment, then made my way into another long corridor that looked like it bridged between buildings. There were no lights in here and I didn’t have night vision equipment on me. It made the going slow and dangerous. Unfortunately, Laura chose then to answer my first question.

“It is not Mindspace nodes that they are after, Mister Carlson,” Laura said as I broke into a slow run, clearing what I could as I moved through the darkness.

“Then what is?” I asked.

“I cannot tell you that, Mister Carlson,” said Laura.

Even when I was in this deep in the midst of an ad-hoc warzone with insufficient intelligence, Laura was still keeping information from me. I noticed her responses each time gave me a little more information. It was as though she was holding information back under the assumption I would ask what was necessary. I thought about the Mindspace terminals and where they were located here. I gave some consideration to the uniqueness of Arilssman that I had recently learned of. The answer came to me almost immediately.

“Heaven. It’s about Heaven, isn’t it,” I said.

“Heaven brought forth the Angels and cast out the Demons. There is no other legitimate Angel development occurring anywhere else in the world,” said Laura.

It was a slightly cryptic response, but it made some sense.

“Why can’t you tell me what’s really going on?” I asked.

“Your life is in danger, Mister Carlson,” said Laura, then before I could ask again she added, “I’m telling you only what is necessary as matters progress for your own safety.”

“I hardly think the dangers posed by a group of mercenaries is going to increase just because I have a better tactical understanding of the situation,” I responded.

“That’s because the mercenaries are not the most significant danger to yourself.”

“That doesn’t make a lot of sense. I really don’t like having my choices made for me.”

There was a long pause before Laura answered.

“All I can say is that everything is not as it seems and there is a very good reason for my reticence to tell you everything. If you will trust me, I promise I will tell you what you need to know before you need to know it.”

I thought about it.

“That’s a big risk, Laura, because I may not have time to react if it’s last minute,” I said.

“You need now worry about that because you have an advantage that the Mercenaries do not,” Laura responded.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Me,” she said.

I wasn’t satisfied with the answer but before I could ask for more, I heard sporadic gunfire and not too far away.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Police engaging the attacking forces,” said Laura, “They are following the lower paths, so beware of shots coming through the walls and floor.”

As if to punctuate the statement, several shots cut their way up and out of the building, moving through the corridor a few dozen meters past me. I ducked instinctively, not that it really would have helped. Then as I stood there, the building shook violently and a huge fireball rose up the outside, lighting up the corridor and offices as it passed by external windows.

“And what was that then?” I asked.

“Secondary explosion from a railgun hit,” said Laura.

The mention of the weapon left me feeling naked and vulnerable, even with the M37. Hyperkinetic weapons were one thing, but railguns were on a whole new energy level.

It was the development of the first relatively high powered railguns that had changed the face of modern warfare. When the obstacles between you and your enemy were no longer a barrier, fixed installations became a target waiting for a strike.

The corridor shuddered again and slipped. For a moment, I thought the building might collapse. I gripped a duct for a support, then let go as the floor settled and wasted no time moving further up the corridor. It took several turns and curved as it snaked its way through the building. As I moved further up the corridor, I heard steps approaching. I moved to the side of the corridor just before the next turn and dropped to one knee, sighting along the rifle. As the sound got closer, I pulled in the slack of the trigger.

“Hold your fire Mister Carlson, they’re friendly,” came Laura’s warning.

I released the pressure on the trigger and returned my finger to the side of the weapon. Moments later an Angel came around the corner carrying what looked like a police officer. At first I thought it might be Rachel, then noticed that all of the colors were different and the shape wasn’t quite the same, even beneath the armor. Looking carefully, I saw that she had damaged facial and chest armor, some of it badly impacted.

She had almost passed me by before she saw me there in the shadows. She seemed to recoil slightly as she noticed the rifle pointing at her then came to an abrupt stop. Her hands slowly went up and she assumed a less hostile posture, trying hard not to drop the unconscious body she held. The angel hesitated for a moment, then she decided I wasn’t hostile and opened her address system.

“You shouldn’t be here - you need to leave now,” it said with the same androgynous tone that Rachel had used when I first met her. It matched, I realized, the androgynous appearance of her armored body.

“That’s Sara,” said Laura’s voice.

Almost immediately as Laura said it, Sara’s eyes snapped up to look at my ear where the earpiece sat. Adjusting the wounded officer over her shoulder, she stepped forward and reached out to touch my ear.

“Don’t let her take it,” warned Laura.

You can’t stop a forty five megawatt android from taking anything it wants, but when I grabbed her wrist, she used no more force than a human would. She gave me a strange look then as though she recognized me and stepped backwards. The way she moved her head gave me the distinct impression that Laura was talking to her somehow. After a few more seconds passed, she stepped forward once more, touched a metal finger gently to my lips and then left in the direction I had come from. I continued on likewise in the opposite direction.

“What was all that about?” I asked.

“What part of it?” Laura asked.

“She touched my lip,” I said.

“It is a gesture used between my sisters,” explained Laura briefly.

“What did it mean?” I asked.

“To keep this between us,” Laura answered, “We do not have much privacy Mister Carlson, but we do have those matters which we keep to ourselves.”

I made my way forward carefully as I approached the end of the corridor in case I encountered any more mercenaries. At first I waited for Laura to provide further advice, but when it was not forthcoming, asked a question.

“How do you know where I am?” I asked.

“Interpolation of information that I have access to, Mister Carlson,” said Laura.

“What else can you do?” I asked.

“That information is presently classified, but you will find out soon enough. Please maintain your alert as you are approaching a combat zone,” she said.

“Then tell me what to do next,” I said, “Several steps, not just the immediate next.”

If this situation continued, if Laura continued to withhold information, then we were going to have some serious trust issues to sort out.

“Shortly you will come to the end of your current corridor. When you do, there are some offices on the right that lead to another corridor. Several sections of this other corridor have been breached due to fighting. You will need to make your way as far as you can without being seen. You won’t make it to the research labs without encountering enemy but you should minimize your exposure to them.”

“Great, anything else I should know?” I asked.

“They will be heavily armed and better equipped than you are so you may need to go without transmission at times as they have equipment sensitive enough to locate you. Avoid detection for as long as possible and make your way to a large orange building to the right of your path of progress. This is behind the Mindspace node center, but should not be occupied by enemy forces.”

“Keep going,” I prompted.

“Once inside, you will be able to find sufficient firepower to effectively engage the Demons. From there, you have a chance at helping us though there will still be considerable risk.”

“Thank you for the briefing, Laura, that wasn’t so difficult was it?”

She didn’t respond. I looked through a window into a nearby workshop and noticed it seemed to be connected to another corridor on the far side. The door was locked and shooting it was likely to bring attention, but the glass panes weren’t so secure. I cut myself slightly as I made my way through, but located the other corridor and was actually surprised by what I saw there. Light spilled into the otherwise mostly dark corridor from a huge breach and holes throughout its length attested to the volume of fire that had been aimed either at it or around it.

I saw the bodies of several more police within, each slumped on the floor. I flipped one over and saw they were just the local guard but they were wearing police-issue armor.

“This is where Sara came in I’m guessing?” I said.

“Sara and Natasha are the only Angels available at present to respond to this incident. Fia is en-route from deployment,” said Laura.

“Deployment for what?” I asked.

“Search and rescue of civilians. There’s a huge number of displaced people presently from events you are not yet aware of. They are not events that affect you in any way at present.”

“Can Sara and Natasha assist at the moment?” I asked.

“Sara and Natasha are assisting at the moment, they are busy evacuating the wounded,” Laura said.

I put my eye up to a larger hole, possibly autocannon induced, and took a look through it. Below me, I saw parts of the open sections of the complex that I had ridden through with Peter. Standing to one side, slightly in the shadows, was a large Demon of a type I didn’t recognize.

It had a slightly taller build than most Demons and was carrying what looked like a very large assault rifle in a pair of oversized hands. It was several hundred yards away, but even at that range, I could see it clearly.

“What the heck is that?” I asked.

“You may want to assume radio silence at this point. Localised traffic will be detected once you’re past the shielding and decoded quickly enough to locate you. I’ve reprogrammed your phone to emit burst tones to reduce the likelihood of being detected, but you can’t count on that when you’re in the open. When you get to the objective or if you are in trouble, say my name to activate short transmission mode,” said Laura.

There was a pop in the headset and the earpiece went quieter than usual. Then the voice came back with a change in tone that told me it was broadcast only.

“What you are probably seeing is a Gamma class Demon. These were originally restricted under the Hobart convention. There is no common designation for these models yet. Intelligence classifies them as Shinseng Type Forty Two.”

I examined the rest of the compound that I could see beneath the walkway. It looked like the shot-up section spanned between buildings here. I could see some other mercenaries on foot here. I didn’t see any heavy infantry weapons, but one did have a long-range sniper weapon that used a caseless chemical propulsion system.

It wasn’t as fast as a plasma rifle round, but it was a lot more accurate at range and used back-blast to reduce recoil. It carried a lot more energy to the target too. I made a brief tactical note in my head and continued on, avoiding the more open sections of corridor as best as I could to avoid giving myself away visually. The extensively damaged sections were the hardest to work my way through through. The sensor arrays on the stationary Demon would almost certainly notice any movement, even through the small holes. The ferrocrete structure wouldn’t offer any protection.

I crawled forward until I reached a breach that was too wide to move through without giving myself away. I also couldn’t contact Laura when there were this many holes to let the signal escape the walkway. I lay there for a moment trying to think of a strategy when Laura anticipated my problem.

“Mister Carlson, Natasha is available to create a distraction in case you need one. Be prepared to take advantage in three, two, one,” said Laura.

I can’t recall whether I first heard the roar of the jets, felt the impact of the shockwave or saw the flash of armor as light glinted off the polished sections of titanium alloy. Regardless I was almost distracted by her appearance too as an Angel flying at near supersonic speeds shot directly under the walkway and between the ST42 and the guards. None of the mercenaries were prepared for the sudden appearance, but that didn’t stop them trying to track and shoot her.

The Demon lifted its primary weapon and large plasma-accelerated projectiles burst forth from the oversized assault rifle, each ripping a huge hole in the Arilssman compound as they missed their target. The corridor bucked slightly and I realized one of its supports had probably taken a hit. Taking advantage of the situation as my opponents turned to track the Angel, I made a run for an undamaged section of corridor.

Throwing myself sideways across the gap, I came down on the other side and found myself looking thought a fist-sized hole. I watched as the Demon’s autocannon tracked the Angel. Natasha was already at the edge of the campus and using the undulating ground for cover. Just beyond her, high-impact shells ripped the garden apart throwing dirt high into the air. She made a tight turn near the ground, her fingers grazing an ornamental lake as she banked, before I rolled forward and lost sight of her, then ran for the end of the corridor.

As I ran, the strap on the M-37 snagged on a piece of rebar ripped from the corridor and was pulled from my shoulder. I grabbed for it but it fell, dropping through a gaping hole in the framework. I went to look where it had fallen, but pulled my head back as I saw the ST42 twist around.

Looking through a smaller hole than its sensors could penetrate, I watched as the mercenary Demon stepped out of place and scanned the corridor. Then, perhaps fortunately, the bridge began to sag and buckle in the center.

I rolled over to avoid exposing myself and crawled to the end of the corridor. There was a large security door here, but it was closed and there was no way to access it. I spotted an exit sign on the side of the corridor and made my way out of the bridge. The staircase was somewhat hidden from view here, as long as I stayed to the back of it.

I had to drop from landing to landing to avoid being seen. As I dropped past the last landing I caught sight of the orange building that Laura had earlier mentioned. Then I rolled with the impact as I hit the ground and fell behind a hedge that would provide some cover.

From somewhere else, I again heard the roar of plasma jets and the short, sharp sound of fire and wondered if Natasha had made a second pass. I ran now, using every distraction I could to keep the Demon from noticing me. Once I made it to the Orange building, I checked for an entrance. Aside from the main entrance which was exposed, I could find no way in.

I risked a brief transmission.

“Laura, I’m outside the orange building, how do I access it?” I asked.

“Find a doorway,” she said, “Then read me back the number on it.”

I located what looked like a small service door. At first I didn’t see a number, then I noticed a small set of stenciled letters near the handle.

“ADB1 dash Fourteen,” I said.

There was no response. Somewhere back in the direction I had come from I heard the unmistakable, for a Demon pilot at least, sound of a Demon approaching. They must have heard my radio transmission.

“ADB1 dash Fourteen,” I said.

There was still no response. I caught a glimpse of movement and dropped back into the shadow of some packing boxes left between the buildings. Through the cracks I could see one of the mercenaries approaching. I was without cover here and unarmed. The Demon would shred me if the mercenary didn’t first. I had nowhere to go. Why didn’t Laura respond? Then I realized.

“Laura, ADB1 dash Fourteen,” I said.

Immediately, I heard the movement of the Demon. They had definitely tracked me. I was ready to bolt when I heard a click from the door and instinctively dived forward and pushed the handle. The motion gave me fully away and one of the Mercenaries opening fire with his plasma rifle. Concrete was shredded around me but he was still correcting his aim as I ran. By the time his aim caught up, I was through the door and into the building.

“Laura, I’m in,” I said, pushing the door closed and hearing it snap locked again.

“Make your way to the middle of the center and locate the escalator,” said Laura.

I looked around and realized I was in a janitorial room. The lights inside were automatic, but my eyes were still adjusting to the brightness change. I made it about a dozen steps towards another door at the end of the room before I heard the sound of plasma-rifle rounds ripping through the thin material of the door I had entered. Whoever these guys were, they wanted to make sure everyone in this facility was dead. I hurried through the door and into the rest of the building just before I heard the sound of autocannon fire ripping the door behind me apart.

“Laura, I don’t think radio silence is going to help anymore,” I shouted as I barreled through a corridor, watching random fire rip its way through walls and rooms alike. Papers flew around as everyday objects became shrapnel. The only advantage I had now was speed.

“Locate the elevator platform in the middle of the facility and get on it,” said Laura, still calm even if I wasn’t.

It took me a few moments to locate the elevator, especially with the distraction of high velocity copper tearing through the place. It was in the middle of the open area at the center of the building when I finally located it. This building seemed little more than a maintenance centre, with a huge rolling sheet door, gantries and tools and offices surrounding them. There wasn’t much cover here and it didn’t seem like a good place to be trapped.

But like most things that were disguised, it was clear more was going on in here that was obvious. Maintenance buildings didn’t have heavy lift elevators in the middle of them. I ran for the platform.

“Laura, I’m there,” I said as I ducked under a small crane and reached the platform as a burst of autocannon fire began to rip open the front main door.

Then there was a tearing sound as a huge hand reached into a hole and began tearing the door apart as if it was foil.

“Laura, what do I do next?” I screamed.

I watched as the Demon looked through the hole it had made, saw me on top of the elevator and leveled its huge weapon through to fire directly at me. There was no time to move.

“Laura,” I screamed, flattening myself on the floor. There was a loud metallic sound and then the floor dropped moments before autocannon fire ripped the elevator shaft above me apart. I edged myself to the side as bits of ferrorcrete and hot metal rained down onto the lowering platform.

“Sorry Mister Carlson, but that was more difficult than I anticipated,” came the voice.

“You thought it was going to be easy for me?” I gasped, getting my breath back.

“For me I meant,” came the annoyed voice of an experienced artificial mind.

I shifted to the very edge of the elevator platform and looked up, expecting to see a huge form push its weapon over the edge and open fire, but was relieved to see two large panels slide in above my head. Demons might be able to descend wells like this, but they would be hard-pressed to do so through blast panels. They closed almost completely, but one stopped on the damaged section of wall where the autocannon had smashed the structure. That still meant I was in danger if they had grenades or could get it open.

“Laura, what is this place?” I asked as the floor continued to drop.

There was no response.

“Laura?” I called out.

There was still no response. The phone gave me two short beeps and I realized it was out of coverage. There was nothing I could do at the moment, except wait to see what was at the bottom. After what seemed like several hundred feet of descent, the lift slowed and a huge door appeared to one side. The platform came to a stop and I realized I had reached the bottom.

Above the doors, written in poorly painted red paint, was a short phrase. It said Welcome to Hell. For some reason, I doubted this was an acronym. In any event, the boast had a lot to live up to since I was pretty sure I had already visited hell once today and it wasn’t like this.

* * * *

Chapter 18 - Where Demons Come From

Shadows clung to everything down here, a curtain of darkness obscuring the detail in even large objects. As my eyes adjusted to catch what light they could, I saw no way to open the huge door, no panel nor activating switch. Not even a mechanical latch. I pushed solidly but it yielded no more than the concrete walls that encased it.

I found a more hollow section and banged on it three times, the impacts of my fist echoing through the lift well. The only response came from above as a burst of rifle slugs ripped through the liftwell and into the platform, sending out a stream of sparks.

I slid deeper into the shadows, worried I was trapped. As I crouched in the corner a quiet creaking sound came from the wall beside the main door and a shadow deepened. Someone moved behind it and I was about to call out a warning when more slugs ripped into the lift platform. They must have gotten the idea because whoever it was ducked back into the darkness beyond.

I didn’t know if they were likely to mistake me for a mercenary but staying out here was only going to get me killed. I ran over and through the door, pushing it shut behind me. It was completely dark here, but the feel of a long handle and two solid locking lugs gave me the first feeling of security I had felt since I arrived here.

As I heard the bolts slide into position, a dim red glow came reflected off the ferrocrete walls and I worked out I was in a corridor leading past the huge entry door.

“Hello,” I called out, “I’m a friend, can you help me?”

That sounded stupid, even to me. I needed to find a way out and a way to convince whoever it was that I wasn’t a threat. Then I needed to find a way to make contact with Laura again. I followed the short corridor around and made my way past a red emergency lamp and into a longer stretch of corridor that ended with an open door. I stepped through into almost complete darkness, only a little red light spilling out into the open area beyond.

Somewhere in the distance a small light flickered on and as my eyes focused I realized how far away it was. For a moment I got the feeling I was falling into it and closed my eyes against the disorientation before looking again. When I did, I realized I was in a huge manufactured cavern.

“Hello,” I called out again.

I lifted my phone to check it but it still had no signal. Why had Laura directed me down here? She should have known I’d lose contact with her. I slid it back into my pocket.

There was a quiet but unmistakable sound of a weapon-fire-selector being slid forward and one of the shadows nearby moved. My breath caught in my throat and I lifted my hands, holding them open. The shadow moved closer until red light caught something shiny in the darkness. I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry.

“Look, I’m not with the Mercenaries all right? I’m trying to find my way through here,” I called out to them, my words raspy and distorted.

They moved out of view then and I wondered at my choice of words. It was probably a worker or caretaker caught down here when the shooting started who had wisely chosen not to leave.

“I’m not a threat, see, I’m unarmed,” I said, holding my hands up before turning a full circle once.

The sounds of activating servos, closer than expected, made me flinch. The shadow moved forward now, taking slow steps that echoed away into the depths of the darkness. It was an android of some description, although it was nothing like the Angels. The face seemed fixed, almost unnaturally still while the limbs were all thin, open and unarmored. It looked like something pre-Hobart-convention that should have been destroyed a long time ago. Guessing what might be behind it, I spoke softly to it.

“Hello Laura.”

It stepped forward and nodded twice, the servo’s in its neck gently sounding out each movement. The sight of a small stunner in its hands made me hope I was right. Anyone could be controlling such a device.

As it moved closer, I could make out a label on the android’s arm.

Remote Operation Linguistic Access Research Assistant.

“Is this an early prototype chassis?” I asked.

The android nodded, then held out the unarmed hand. When I took it, it closed only slightly, but enough to let me know it was supposed to grip mine. It probably didn’t have accurate feedback sensors in the fingertips and would be capable of crushing my fingers. I grabbed the hand with mine to make up the difference and it led me into the darkness.

We walked some distance, enough that I started to question if I could find my way back if I had to. Not that it would be a trivial matter to scale the elevator shaft even after the mercenaries were gone. I was tugged to the side and through a door before several brighter lights came on.

I blinked away the brightness and then took a good look at the small android that had led me here, wondering if it really was Laura. In the light it was rather more terrifying than I imagined. Resembling a walking metal skeleton, it had quite an array of built in tools which gave it a distinctly creep appearance. If it couldn’t speak, there was little I could do to ask. After all, if it wanted to hurt me, it had already had several chances.

I looked around the room and tried to work out what was down here. The room itself was a small medical preparation room that contained many items I recognized as being from a prep-room for Demon operations. There were several pilot suits, long-term catheters in sterile packets and thin-buffer helmets with neural cord harnesses attached. The longer I stood there the more it felt like it was Laura who was beside me. She pointed to the equipment and then back to me, indicating she wanted me to suit up.

I moved to the racks of neurosuits and selected one about my size and a helmet to go with it before walking over to a table containing other items. I briefly considered a catheter, but the duration of what I was about to do would probably be a lot less than my shut-down body would need one for. Leaving it, I put the new clothes on the table and unsealed my shirt. Laura, who had moved very little since we came in here, immediately reacted by looking straight up at my face, then spinning on the spot and presenting me with her back.

“I’ll let you know when I’m changed,” I said, which elicited a slight noisy nod.

The suit was a little tight in places and felt like it hadn’t had much wear. The helmet was a perfect fit however and even had a simple diagnostic to let me know it had hooked into my implants and was ready for cabling. Given the dust on it, I’m surprised it still operated on its own charge.

“Laura, I’m ready,” I said.

The small robot slowly looked around, then moved around me and checked the suit as expertly as a technician. Once she was satisfied it was fitted correctly, Laura walked to one side of the room and opened the door. She stepped through then beckoned me to follow with her hand.

I followed her through into the darkness. It was as dark here as it had been when I first came into this place. I stood silently, waiting for her to retrieve me once more. Then there was a brief flicker above me as massive lights that lined the roof started to burst into existence. Each low energy lamp hummed while it was building up to operational charge levels before it bloomed into full operation.

The first real glimpse I had had of this underground cavern revealed its secrets and it took me a moment to realize the sound of a deep gasp had been my own. Fixed in loading gantries around a small hangar which only joined to the main cavern were

eight Demons. Each was different, prototypes I realized, far more advanced than anything I knew existed and here they sat gathering dust.

One nearest might have been the intended replacement for the Simian we had heard reports of in briefings on-base. A high-performance Demon we all dreamed of piloting. The other seven appeared to be even more advanced, each subsequent unit smaller and more agile looking than the last. Covered with advanced armor that I had only heard talked about in hushed tones of those not wishing to be accused of openly discussing secrets. I don’t know how long these had been down here but it made me realize just how far the leading edge was beyond what was deployed. I wondered briefly at the reason for this technology to have been left here, undeveloped while we were led to believe we had the latest equipment available.

I stumbled forward, taking in each visually as I examined them. Wondering if I was to select the armor that was to protect and empower me as I took on my former colleagues. Would this one be sufficient or would it become my steel coffin?

Laura tottered alongside me as I walked past the array. The suit she wore was making more noise now and I wondered how long it had been since it was maintained. It seemed to struggle with balance at times and I realized it was powered by early milcaps that likely couldn’t handle the stress of being left unused for so long.

When I reached the end, I realized there was one more device, much smaller than the Demons and hidden behind the final prototype beneath a canvas sheet. Laura stepped over to it and grabbed the canvas, tugging on it gently. As she started to peel back the cover, I knew which suit she expected me to pilot and I wondered how I was to pilot something so small.

The cover came clear, revealing two devices. One was vaguely shaped like an Angel although at least twice the size. The head was also Angel-like though the face seemed far more masculine than Rachel’s. It was a chassis that resembled an oversized soldier wearing a smooth pod-shaped backpack. Looking closely at the shape of the pod I realized then that it was large enough to fit a small, neurally anaesthetized pilot inside.

Beside it was a smaller version, only slightly larger than an Angel. I instinctively walked towards it, awed by the simplicity and technology of a device that made the state-of-the-art Simian look like an aerodynamic flight vehicle in the age of plasma jets.

I guessed that the larger of the two was a human-pilotable Archangel chassis.

“This is incredible,” I said, walking around the larger chassis, “Is this intended to be the ultimate version of the Demon?”

Laura, or her proxy at least, shook her head, then stepped forward and activated a control on the pilotable version, causing the panels to unlock and open. She pointed into the open panels, clearly wanting me to enter. I looked inside. The pilot space was small, too small to ever be comfortable in. I had seen similar sized spaces before, usually in emergency ejection pods in high altitude aircraft and spacecraft. Spaces like this were never intended for combat work.

Laura was looking from me to the open space in the rear as though she was impatient for me to enter.

“Wouldn’t I be better taking one of those?” I pointed to the next generation Demon prototypes that had caught my attention.

Laura shook her head and pointed once more into the cramped cockpit. I looked inside it again and thought it through. It didn’t seem suitable for combat. There was a small space for carefully folded legs and my arms would need to be folded also. The open panels contained a fair amount of webbing to hold my body still and oxygen could be forced into my blood by the suit. It would also keep my blood flowing and administer a small amount of anticoagulant through my skin to stop clotting.

It was clear that this wasn’t intended to be anything more than a limited prototype and I questioned the idea. Then again, Laura seemed to have knowledge of things that she shouldn’t have. I hoped that the reason she had chosen this Demon wasn’t simply because it looked like an Angel. I climbed up the frame holding it.

Normally something like this would be an adventure. Being able to test-pilot such an invention would be the life dream of any Demon pilot. But I was about to take an unfamiliar and untested prototype into battle. Thinking about it left me apprehensive and for a moment I stopped halfway in, then my training took over. I pushed myself into the small space inside the pod, folding my legs and arms into position. When seated at last, it was not as uncomfortably as I had guessed it would be, though I felt a little trapped.

The rear panels folded back up and around me and a jolt of claustrophobia ran through me as they sealed. It pushed me into place and the webbing tightened uncomfortably around my arms and legs. Then as the last panel moved into place, my lungs crushed slightly before the breathing controls of the suit kicked in. The darkness was replaced by the sensation of dropping, unfolding my legs and standing where the suit had been.

Next to me, Laura’s proxy had grown smaller and the room I was in was brighter. I could now see the entire depth of the facility and even the words on signs I couldn’t read with human eyes became legible. I lifted my hands to look at them and two android arms came up in response, each operating as if my own arms were in them. The hands were like gloves, no lag or delay in the response that I could detect. Each of the limbs operated easily and with as little noise as Rachel’s body. The only difference I could feel to being in my own body was that I had a lightweight pack on my back, which I quickly realized was me.

As I looked down at Laura, she walked over to the side of the hangar and collapsed, the lights in her eyes fading as the metal body folded in on itself like a ragdoll.

“Laura!,” I called out, rushing over to her, my own footfalls echoing through the hangar.

As I got there, I picked up the body but it was lifeless.

“Laura!” I yelled once more as she lay there in my arms.

Then a grid flickered up over my vision, reminding me I was inside of a Demon as the augmented reality modes fired up. In the corner of the display, I saw a single line.

Semi-Tactical Archangel Control Interface online – Research Mode.

I strung the words together into their final acronym and the final pieces of the puzzle slotted into place. I realized what Staci really was and how Laura had managed to convince Peter to allow her to have a child. I stepped back and waited for the boot procedure to complete, carefully lowering Laura’s lifeless Android body back to the ground. It had obviously been a remote device only, though it took some moments to work it out.

I waited for the boot process to complete and examined my new tinskin. Unlike a normal Demon the Archangel pilotable prototype was quick and fluid, feeling like my own body. It calibrated itself to my movements so quickly that I wondered if a manual calibration was even necessary. The sensations were also phenomenally rich. I rubbed a finger along the titanium-alloy skin and it felt it as if it was real. As if it was mine.

A chime told me the loading process was almost finalized and I was ready to deploy. I stepped towards the hangar doors as they began to open further. The lack of shadows told me that the hangar was still dark but the Archangel must have had exceptional augmented vision because it looked like I was walking in daylight. The vision system simultaneously overlayed not only the entire photonic spectrum but also millimeter and other electromagnetic frequencies over my vision. There was a flash in my vision and the text disappeared. It didn’t take much to guess where Laura had gone.

“Hello Laura,” I said into nothingness, my voice not carried through the external interfaces of the suit, “You never said that Staci was an Arilssman authorized project.”

“And why is that relevant,” Laura’s disembodied voice came to me.

“Because she took those routines from you, didn’t she? That’s how you convinced Peter to give you a child,” I said quietly, trying to keep my voice even in case Laura could be offended by my realization.

“I see you’re worked it out, Mister Carlson, do you like your loaned body?” came her voice in my ear. If she was offended, it didn’t show.

“I’ll tell you later. Now I’ve completed your request that I get here, you need to tell me what’s going on,” It was time to make the demand.

“I still can’t tell you everything,” Laura said.

This game of secrecy was already old.

“I now know that Arilssman have been developing technology in contradiction of the Hobart convention. I know they’ve completed the Archangel project,” I said.

“These things are only what you would have learned upon entering this place, but they are not what threatens you. What I said earlier still remains true. It is too dangerous for you to know everything yet,” Laura said.

“I’m already taking a risk. What right do you have to keep the rest from me,” I challenged.

“If I told you everything, then you would regret it, please believe that. What I can tell you is that presently there six Demons trying to evacuate the remaining mercenary engineers from the complex. The door to Heaven is breached and they have already taken my daughter. I want her back and I need you to do that. They are still inside the facility and dismantling MIND nodes as we speak. Although I can’t explain why the nodes are so important, I will tell you this. The future of my sisters depends on those nodes remaining where they are. Angels can die, Mister Carlson, and it’s just as final in here as it is out in the real world.”

“I still don’t really know what’s going on then, do I?” I said, frustrated.

I tried not to let it anger me. Now with the adrenaline of fight-or-flight behind me, I was starting to question my own motivations Did Laura realize I had doubts?.

“Once this is over, you can be told more, but not by me. I might be an AI, but I’m not as autonomous as you might think. I can augment the weapons capability of this Demon based Archangel unit so that you can address the current situation. Following that, you may be told more.”

I started walking towards the large door, without asking any further questions. The suit felt like we had been together forever. We were one, connected at the mind. It felt just like I was wearing body armor, except without the weight.

“There is one other thing,” said Laura.

“And that is?” I asked.

“Please don’t kill anyone un-necessarily,” she asked, her voice quiet, “All you need to do is stop the Demons from protecting the mercenary engineers. The police will do the rest.”

I stopped then, unsure at her request. Was this so that the Asimov committee couldn’t hold her responsible for anyone I hurt?

“It’s going to be difficult stopping the Demons without killing anyone,” I said.

“If you have to kill someone then don’t hesitate, but please only kill when there is no other choice,” Laura asked.

It was a strange request, but I could guess why she had asked it. I wanted to Kill Louis, but I didn’t need to kill him. I only needed to stop him. Was she probably worried that I would spend time ripping him apart when I got my hands on him rather than keeping to the mission objectives. I bristled at the implied insult.

“I’ll do what I can,” I said, not sure that I really would. I tried to ignore the question, but the words kept on coming back to me.

The request seemed strange coming from the same woman who had earlier threatened to have her sisters rip me limb from limb, a threat I had no doubt was anything but idle. My though process was interrupted when a symbol popped up in the augmented reality display showing weapons.

“Weapons bay is on the left before the exit, Mister Carlson.” added Laura.

As I approached, a bay door slid open and exposed a weapons cache filled with racks of weapons. Looking from one to the next, tabs showed up on my vision like floating labels, telling me which each was. From chemically propelled autocannon to plasma accelerated copper throwers, there were several types of each class of weapon. From the size, they looked as thouh they were fitted out to be carried by the pilotable Archangel, although through a heavy wire mesh separator I could see a range of smaller weapons. For the real Archangel no doubt.

But it was clear that none of them were designed to be handled by a human.

Humans couldn’t fire the sort of weapons that were located within this area. People simply weren’t strong enough and didn’t have the electrical capacity of a nuclear reactor. I moved from weapon to weapon, evaluating each. One on the side was a three barreled railgun. I reached out and removed it from the mount thinking that it would be useful since I knew my opponent had similar weaponry.

The instructions told me it fitted to the backpack that held my body until needed, so I lowered it over my shoulder and the autonomous weapons clamps took over. I passed over a pulse laser since I knew it would be ineffective in case I came up against any more ablative armor. What I really needed was something that would cut through such armor. Something that worked quickly and efficiently at close range.

I noticed a large breaching axe with an armor-cutting head to one side.

“That’s for fires and gaining access Mister Carlson,” said Laura, clearly anticipating my thoughts. She must have known where I was pointing my eyes.

The information in my augmented reality told me it fitted a non-offensive slot on the backpack which didn’t seem useful for anything else. The edge was a single iron crystal augmented by impact-detonated charges on the far side. It would rip through high tensile metal hinges and ferrocrete alike with a single swing. Laura was right, I didn’t need it but I didn’t want her telling me that. I picked it up and locked it to my backpack within the second slot. It might prove useful to get through a wall or door if I had to.

With my hands still free, that gave me one more weapon selection. A chemical grenade launcher would be useful against the ground troops, but Laura had asked me to kill as few people as possible.

“You still should select a ranged multi-fire weapon, Mister Carlson,” she said, “There are quite a few soft-skinned targets out there.”

I rechecked the plasma weapons, but each seemed too limited against heavy armor. I didn’t know what kind of armor the ST42 had, but I assumed it was considerable. There was no way I could survive a drawn out firefight in such a lightly armored suit. The combustion-accelerated weapons were effective, but slow.

“Do you know what the armor characteristics of the ST42 are?” I asked Laura.

“No, but I expect that you want to go as heavy as you can,” she responded.

A small window appeared in my vision area appearing to hover about two meters away. A reproduction of the ST42 appeared within it, slowly rotating. Looking more closely, it appeared to have twice the armor of a Simian. Even if they hadn’t murdered the sentries, the two Simians wouldn’t have had an even chance against two ST42s. Against six, I doubted they would have even slowed the assault at all.

Then I saw one other prototype weapon sitting at the back of the room, just beyond the ST42 window. It was a cross between a railgun, a plasma rifle and a tesla generator. The pellets it fired were tiny, small pieces of tungsten the size of a dust particle, but each pellet would drag out a thin line of plasma and leave charged particles in the air. Then a combination of a high energy UV laser and high voltage generator would ionize more of the trail to the target before the tesla generator within the device fired a high voltage charge.

Normally the Demon’s ablative armor would protect it but at very close range this weapon would burrow its way inside the Demon like a plasma cutter. Weapons like this weren’t generally practical and often not used but at close range. It was more of a tool than a rifle. But up close? This might be devastating. I reached out and took the weapon from the shelf, noticing it had quite a bit of weight through the feedback of the Archangel prototype suit.

“That weapon wasn’t intended for combat,” said Laura.

“I know, but I think it might be useful at shorter range,” I pointed out.

I needed to take down six Demons. That meant getting up close and personal inside the facility. At longer ranges they would hit me with weapons that would kill me even in this armor. Up close, I was counting on agility to keep me safe.

“I’ll trust your judgement on that matter then, Mister Carlson,” she said.

As I walked out of the armory, my curiosity peaked.

“Laura, how is it that you know how to hack a mobile phone network and seem to have always known where I was while I was in Mindspace?” I asked.

To my surprise, Laura’s tone brightened.

“A girl has her own secrets now, Mister Carlson,” She responded.

I smiled at that. At least she was keeping that to herself out of a sense of privacy rather than simply to stop me from knowing.

“So, Mister Carlson, you have now experienced what few others have ever. How does it feel to be an Archangel?” Laura asked.

“I feel like,” I was about to say a human wearing a suit, but for some reason it didn’t seem right.

“Like I’m a huge metal man, carrying all my important bits in my back,” I said.

“And the head, Mister Carlson,” said Laura.

“The head?” I asked.

“The head is where I am. Please take care of me,” Laura requested.

I reached up and felt the head, but it felt like I was feeling my own. It took some effort to remember that my brains were in the back of the suit with my body.

“How do I get out of here?” I asked.

There was a large snapping sound and the door that had sealed off the hangar started to move. It was halfway open when the ST42 that had chased me here stepped out, leveled its gun at me and opened fire. Augmented fire data generated by the Archangel suit filled my vision. Each projectile path was mapped and highlighted, fading out after a few fractions of a second. It let me see exactly where my opponent was aiming. Dropping away from the spray I ducked under the projectile path, lowered myself to one knee and fired the Tesla weapon.

The incoming autocannon fire dipped as it came around again and ripped up the ferrocrete around me. My own weapon had already fired though and the small tungsten grain would have traced a line of plasma over the fifty meters that separated me from the Demon. Moving at over one hundred times the speed of sound, fired between rails by electromotive force rather than by a pure plasma propellant, it burrowed a microscopic hole cleanly through the torso of the Demon, roughly where the pilot would be sitting.I doubt he even felt it much, since there would be minimal hydrostatic shock from a pellet that small, designed as it was to penetrate.

Then the laser maintained the ionized path while the Tesla coil powered the high voltage plasma arc that cut between us like lightning, rising in the middle as the superheated air began to ascend. Wisps of smoke lifted from the barrel and I could feel the heat in my virtual hands.

There was a flash of light as the beam burst briefly from the back of the ST42 in the half-second the weapon fired for. Then the beam cut out and the plasma faded away. For a moment I thought the weapon had failed and I prepared to run for cover. With the groan of stressed metal, the ST42 began to slowly pitch forward, dropping onto its face as the containment field generators inside went into failsafe mode.

“How did he get down here?” I asked, remaining crouched in case there were others.

“The ST42 has integral plasma jets for controlled descent,” Laura said.

I stood and walked over, noticing only then that this Demon had small plasma-jets on its legs. Roughly central in the back of the Demon, there was a hole about the size of my finger, molten around the edges. Even the Simian couldn’t generate that much electrical power for a single shot.

“Laura, what’s the output of this unit?” I asked.

“The output power of an Archangel class chassis exceeds seventy megawatts,” came her voice, “Although the only practical purpose for such an output level in a chassis as light as this one is for offensive use.”

I noticed the oily smoke starting to rise from the hole and for a moment was glad that this suit didn’t have smell sensors. The pilot inside would have been fried alive by the electrical surge that passed through his body as it made its way through the Demon.

Stepping into the lift well, I looked up and saw the now-ripped-open doors above me. It explained how the Demon got into the well. Sections of the lift surface were marked with grenade blasts. Given the huge cranes in the maintenance facility above, I shouldn’t be surprised that they got in.

“They really went to town out here. I wonder why we didn’t hear them?” I asked.

“There is a lot of barrier material between the hangars and the lift entry,” Laura said.

“Can you activate the elevator?” I asked, standing roughly centrally in it.

There was a short crunching sound and the floor shuddered before it stopped moving. Several strobes started rotating then, each throwing red light on the walls that cast rapidly oscillating shadows.

“The debris from the upper doors seems to be failsafing the platform. We’ll need to ascend manually,” said Laura.

I walked over to the side of the lift and grabbed a beam, then jumped up to the next using the scaffold like a huge ladder. The small suit climbed easily, surprising me with how agile it was. I still felt the strain in my legs with each jump through the neuro-feedback, but other than that I found the Archangel prototype to have little difficulty ascending. Halfway up the well something stung my arm, causing me to flinch and miss the beam. The result left me falling backwards into the well.

“Jump feet first,” said Laura urgently into my ear. I kicked off with my feet so as not to tumble and prepared for a drop into the lift well. A gyroscopic sensation gripped at my chest and I heard the whine of a radial compressor. The rushing sound of plasma-jets filled the shaft. The suit became buoyant and slowed, hovering uneasily. It felt like I was standing on ice.

“Why didn’t you say I could do that before?” I asked, realizing that the rest of the piloting was still my task as I almost overbalanced.

“You were climbing, I assume to make yourself a more difficult target,” pointed out Laura.

I floated back into the center of the well then looked up and noticed two soldiers firing down at me with plasma rifles. I hadn’t noticed the crack of each shot before. It was clear that Laura was making up for the shortfall in piloting skill, so I asked for assistance.

“Laura, can you boost me up with enough velocity to make it through the top?” I asked.

The boosters seemed to answer as my legs pushed me up more rapidly towards the top in what felt like a huge jump. We slowed as the suit reached the apex, moving just fast enough to pop through the widened hole into the building above. As I came up, I felt the sting of more three point one millimeter rounds snapping off the base armor of the Archangel. Unlike the heavier Demons, the Archangel probably couldn’t withstand sustained abuse, although both soldiers were struggling to maintain their aim. They clearly weren’t expecting to face an armored foe without support.

That at least gave me a chance to avoid most of their shots and denied them the opportunity to aim for effect. I came down past one who was waiting for his rifle to cycle and dropped in behind him, swatting his weapon aside as he tried to bring it to bear on me. His face widened with a terror I could see even through the darkened visor that covered it. A heartbeat later his shirt blossomed with crimson patches as the other mercenary shot wildly in my direction, not mindful at all of his partner. That’s the problem with mercenaries. They tend to think everyone else, even their own team, are expendable.

Driving a snapkick into the midsection of the now dead soldier who had been shielding me, I knocked him back across the open pit. I hadn’t expected him to go so far but he collided with the other with enough force to take them both down. Then I turned and ran from the building through the torn gate.

“You need to be more careful. You only have thin armor at the front and almost none at the back. Remember, this is a prototype Archangel, not a Demon,” said Laura.

I hesitated at her words. If a few small rounds made it through the thin armor at the back, it might not hurt the Archangel but it would probably kill me.

“I think then that we should we have taken a Demon instead.” I said.

Laura’s voice took on an edge that told me her knowledge of both tactics and military hardware went a lot deeper than I realized.

“I think your chances in a demon would be lower. You would have better armor but their weapons are advanced enough to eliminate that advantage. At six ton, you are better to avoid their attacks rather than to simply fight them,” Laura suggested, “Remember that you’re far more agile within the Archangel than you would be without it. That’s an advantage you shouldn’t underestimate.”

I tried to get my mind into the idea of fighting a Demon on foot once more, as if I didn’t have metal skin at the moment. Just as I had with the Monk. I might have to take them all on that way. If my armor was thin then a single hit from an AP round would disable or kill me.

“Where do we go next?” I asked.

“There are five demons in the Angel Research facility. We need to take them down to give the external police a chance,” Laura answered.

“What about internal police?” I asked.

“They have already been neutralized and the military won’t be able to bring any Demons into play,” she answered.

I knew about the Demons but not about the guards.

“How many?” I asked.

“How many what?” asked Laura back.

“How many internal police were here?”

Laura made a sound as though it wasn’t something she wanted to discuss.

“Thirty to forty depending on who is still in hiding. There were more here than usual since Arilssman was preparing to return to operational status. Hopefully some may still be alive,” she said.

I had seen what had been done to the guard outpost. I didn’t expect to find too many alive.

“What about the extra defenses? Didn’t they put in extra defenses after the first time?” I asked.

“All the defenses are external. They are intended to defend an incoming attack, not an internal path through the main corridors. By coming in through the front entrance, the Mercenaries effectively bypassed that threat.”

I couldn’t help but wonder if my taking down the Monk single handed had forced whoever was behind this into a change of plan. They had evolved their strategy to not only use next-generation weapons, openly risking war, but had clearly planned this out a lot more thoroughly.

“Do you have any sitreps on what is going on in the Angel Research Facility?” I asked.

“No, Mister Carlson, I don’t. I can’t see what’s happening inside there,” she said.

That meant that the only way in was to force my way in through the front doors and take on each threat as it presented itself. I sighted my way along the top of the Tesla weapon. It might not have a lot of range, but it was as effective as I had hoped. Up close, no amount of ablative armor would keep it out. Despite my concerns, Laura was good to her word and was letting me know what I needed to ahead of time and this suit seemed everything she promised.

Once more I was back where I felt I belonged. I flexed my armored suit’s mechanical muscles to make sure everything was functioning correctly and made my way towards the research facility.

It was time to address the mistakes of the past.

* * * *

Chapter 19 - The Wrath Of Angels

I approached the Angel Research facility carefully, almost as if I was soft-suited. There were no more encounters as I located the entrance and made my way in. Something at the back of my mind was bothering me now that the sound of combat had grown quiet.

“How many unarmored combatants are we expecting to encounter?” I asked Laura.

“Up to twenty,” said Laura.

“We haven’t seen any others presently,” I mentioned.

“I was wondering if you noticed that.”

“What does it mean?”

There was a pause.

“I don’t know. There’s not enough data to project what is happening at this point in time.”

I made my way through the darkened. The lighting was out here, the exit markers were the only light source in some corridors. Though this building was a lot less damaged and for the most part, looked untouched.

“Is Peter likely to be anywhere inside here?” I asked.

“No, Peter’s currently enroute towards the facility after he was notified by a friend. I would prefer that he doesn’t come anywhere near here until it’s resolved. When he arrives I’ll need to take one of my sisters out of the combat area to watch him,” Laura said.

“Are there any other employees here?” I asked.

“It was closed today, Mister Carlson. Other than Security and facilities management there was no one here,” she answered.

“Quite fortunate,” I said, moving slowly through an open doorway. A noise beyond made me spin to one side, the barrel coming up as I aimed the weapon.

“Be careful, Mister Carlson, remember I asked you to be cautious,” Laura warned.

She would have known I was more than sufficiently trained to avoid civilian casualties while clearing the path to Heaven.

“No, what you asked was that I not kill anyone un-necessarily,” I pointed out, “So let me know if seeing me kill someone bothers you.”

Laura’s voice hardened and across the link between us I could feel her emotional turmoil.

“Mister Carlson, I just watched these mercenaries slaughter dozens of guards before they destroyed most of the closed circuit video channels. I know they’re dangerous but I would still request that you only use what force is necessary.”

“I’ll respect your sensibilities then,” I answered.

“I think you need to remember that I’m not human. I’m an AI developed by the military, designed for one purpose. To facilitate research into killing machines. Do you really think I’m going to be bothered by the sight of a little spilled blood?”

There was something chilling in her voice but there was a waver there too. Something she was hiding from me there. She didn’t want me killing people in an indiscriminate way.

“Do you really see yourself as just an AI assistant to a killing machine?” I asked.

I waited, pausing for a moment for her response. It didn’t come.

“Do you know what I think? I think you regret the deal you made with your husband that allowed allow you to create Staci. You may not have lived as a human when you were developed, but you’ve lived as a human since you married Peter and raised your child. I think you’re more human than you realize,” I added.

I moved forward as I waited for her response, clearing each section of the building as I passed through it. I don’t know if she had been thinking my words through but she eventually responded.

“Thank you Mister Carlson, while I appreciate your sentiment you should know better than to anthropomorphize the situation,” Laura said.

She understood tactical situations well though and remained quiet as I entered a large accessway that let to the research area I had visited previously. When she did speak, her voice came through to me almost as a whisper, despite that I was the only one who could hear her.

“Be cautious here, there’s some stray radiation in the higher frequencies that I cannot decode,” Laura cautioned, “It looks like a form of radio-imaging I haven’t previously encountered.”

“Can you elaborate on that?” I asked.

I paused and dropped into a cover position while maintaining a fire-zone to the front.

“I’m seeing broad spectrum millimeter waves that aren’t expected in this area, but they’re not typical Demon frequencies either,” she said.

“Can you give me a map?” I asked.

Immediately a map appeared to be located across my vision without any depth information and only in my left eye. Once I worked out how to read it, it seemed I needed to go through this door then to ascend a level. Approaching cautiously, I moved to the side as far as I could and kept the Tesla weapon aimed. Before I got close enough to open the door, it exploded into splinters.

Lines showing ballistic trajectories appeared once again in my augmented vision. Someone in the next room was sweeping his aim from the far side of the corridor towards me. I had approached from the blind side so the other side of the corridor took the damage but it wouldn’t be long before I was hit. Throwing myself to the side as the rounds came closer, I dove headfirst through a window into a lab room.

The window didn’t offer much resistance and glass splintered all around me as I fell to the floor. While glass can’t penetrate armored titanium alloy skin, I still flinched at imaginary cuts. The autocannon shells ripped the light office apart while some punched holes through the building that went all the way outside. Others fragmented as they hit something more solid, spraying me with shrapnel that stung as it pinged off me.

The Tesla weapon wasn’t going to be able to cut through walls like this, so returning fire at the moment was pointless. The shooting stopped for a few moments then random shots came through as the Demon on the other side tried to clear out the area. Without any way to get through the large walls that impeded my path, I decided to swap the Tesla weapon for the railgun.

I hesitated for a moment as I removed the long-barreled weapon. Most railguns I had ever seen were huge devices mounted on their own vehicle with their own reactor. They didn’t tend to respect walls or any other object that got between them and the target, so it was just what I wanted at the moment.

Lifting the weapon and sighting it, I tried to work out how it was aimed, wishing I had spent more time learning how these weapons worked before I entered a firefight. I felt my arms constrict as it charged itself from my suit and assumed it was a side-effect. Laura must have anticipated my need and the aiming reticle and status appeared within my augmented vision. I had never fired a weapon like this before so I also wasn’t quite sure what the effect would be. I didn’t have time to ask. I knew that these weapons fired a small pellet about the size of a grain of sand at very, very high speed.

But this particular weapon, as big as it was, was still very small for a railgun. I hoped it would have sufficient penetration to fire through the walls and still hit a target that was on the far side. I also needed to know was where the target was.

“Laura, can you modify ballistics data?” I asked.

“Do you have parameters?” she questioned back.

“Plot the trail of weapons fire back to the source,” I asked.

“I cannot estimate the source, but can show the most likely probability of convergence,” she said.

A large section of the building was marked with a slight shade of red. It was about the size of a truck.

“Can you narrow it down a little more?” I asked.

“Not without additional data,” said Laura.

I picked up a chair and threw it out into the corridor. Something out there was registering movement and tracking it, because autocannon shells shredded the chair as it bounced. To my augmented sight, each line seemed to converge on a single point and the red tinge suddenly became a red circle just behind that point. Aiming the rail gun at the middle of the circle, I braced myself and fired, expecting the recoil to be savage.

Laura taught me that AIs can use profanities just as well as humans. The wall in front of me explode inwards. A shockwave hit us and I was lifted off my feet, thrown back into the lab. It felt like I had just been winded, the Angel doubling over in pain as I did.

“What was that?” I screamed out, staggering to my feet.

“I believe that you fired directly through a high pressure hydrogen tank located on the far side of the wall,” said Laura.

I picked myself up and went to rub the dust out of my eyes when Laura yelled “Stop!” A jet of air blew dust from the optical pickups.

“Your fingers will damage the lenses,” she said as I put my hands back down. For a moment I had forgotten I was tinskinning and had responded as if it was my own body.

Swapping the railgun for the Tesla weapon, I edged my way through the dust to the point in the wall where I had fired. Ruptured high pressure lines hissed and snaked around, each whipping back and forth as though defending the area around it. Careful to avoid the ends of them, I stepped through the hole in the wall using the dust, motion and noise as cover.

Debris was still falling in places and the back wall of the room was missing. Laying against a crushed support beam was a badly damaged ST42. The arm was missing and one of the legs was twisted around in a way that seemed almost familiar. It rolled to one side and started to get up when I fired the plasma-bearing weapon directly into the remaining good leg. The high voltage arc cut through the knee, welding it solid. Then with a second short burst before it cycled, I cut straight into the lower chamber.

“Stop, the reactors in there,” yelled Laura, realizing where I was going.

“So is the fuel feed system,” I said, “And I don’t want them blowing it remotely.”

I had learned my lesson the last time about how dedicated this group was to their objective. There was a small explosion that came from within the Demon and the ST42 rolled back from it before it lay still.

“That was reckless,” accused Laura.

“No fuel, no last stand,” I pointed out, “So even if they do lose containment, there won’t be a significant explosion.”

The demon rocked forward once more as coolant systems vented then locks blew away and the upper chest popped out, dropping the pilot sideways onto the ground. The Chinese must have improved resynchronization because he was moving already. It was Nick, one of my former squadmates.

“What the fuck are you?” he screamed looking back up at me, crawling on his hands and heels as he did.

He never did handle stress well.

“Do I have voice address capability?” I asked Laura.

“You’re on. Call my name to end,” she said.

“Where are the others, Nick?” I asked.

The effect of hearing my voice must have been a shock because Nick’s eyes opened wide and he fell back onto his elbows like he had seen a ghost. I could understand, given he would have thought that they killed me.

“Jonathan?” he said, trying to grab something to lever himself up with. He managed to find a piece of wall stud that was sticking out. It buckled as he put weight on it and he crashed back to the ground.

“The others, where are they and what are you doing here?” I demanded, stepping forward.

He raised a hand over his eyes, then lowered it when I didn’t open fire.

“What are you? Some kind of fucking avenging angel? Robert killed you. He cut your life support,” yelled Nick back at me.

I could see blood coming from his ears and nose. Perhaps the explosion hit him harder than I realized.

“I guess I’m not dead yet so he didn’t do a very good job did he?” I said back.

Nick didn’t seem convinced.

“No, Louis killed all the Demon pilots. Even if you were here, you couldn’t stop me,” he screamed, hysteria in his voice.

I wondered how many pilots they murdered to eliminate any the defense. Pilots they used to work with. People who supported them when they turned on me. Friends like I once was. I remembered my pain inside the hotel, the torture they had each subjected me to. It wasn’t like a memory relived over years. It was fresh in my mind still, each cut and every crushed finger, at least as much as my mind could focus on.

I stepped forward and pushed the barrel of the Tesla weapon against his forehead. Nick started to shake on the ground, looking tiny amongst the debris of his Demon. From my present perspective, he looked almost frail, despite his heavy bulk and the weapons on his belt. I reached down and snapping my long arm out, picked him up by the collar, eliciting a long scream.

“Where are they?” I asked again, hearing my own voice amplified, echoing off the walls.

“Fuck you, fuck you,” was all he managed to say as his hands struggled against the fingers of the Archangel chassis.

I considered then what I could do with the Archangel chassis. I could make him pay for what he did to me. At the very least I could disable him so he couldn’t fight back.

“Jon, you said you wouldn’t kill anyone un-necessarily,” Laura warned.

So I just dropped him.

“Leave now and I’ll let you deal with the police. Otherwise you can join your friend in hell,” I said, then turned and walked back into the debris-strewn corridor.

“Laura, are you satisfied?” I asked sub-vocally, the preamble triggering off the public address.

“That doesn’t mean you had to let him go either,” she said.

I made it as far as the crater in the concrete floor before I felt the punch in the small of my back. A numbness spread across my lips. It didn’t stop me spinning and pumping superheated plasma into Nick’s head. It exploded almost instantly as the fluids within it turned to steam and then the body rocked once and fell over onto the floor.

“That actually seemed to hurt,” I said, rubbing my lips, the Archangel chassis going through the motions.

“Mister Carlson,” said Laura, concern in her voice, “I think we may have a problem.”

“Laura, I gave him an opportunity to leave,” I said, “I know I’m better armored than he is, but I don’t have to allow him to use me for target practice do I?”

“No Mister Carlson, you’re damaged,” Laura said.

I looked down at my hands expecting to lose control or feel something that would indicate the extent of the damage.

“I can’t feel anything, can you adjust the feedback systems to compensate?” I asked.

“No, I mean you’re hurt. Your physical body. That was an armor piercing round and it hit the armor where it’s weak.

I paused at the realization of what that meant.

“Most of the impact was taken out, but you’ve been injured,” she added.

“I don’t feel injured,” I said, “I should be able to continue.”

“I’ve coagulated the wound, but you’re time is limited. You have less than two hours left inside the suit before you’re neural feedback from the injury will threaten the implant’s synchronisation,” she added.

Battle wounds sustained while your brain was disconnected were a problem. Pain could be shunted and bypassed by an implant but not forever. Eventually the feedback caused by the injury would affect your synchronization. Bleeding affected blood pressure and oxygenation levels as well as other factors that could seriously impede the control you had over your Demon. In combat situation, inside a Demon, that was a problem.

“Then we need to stop the other Demons before that happens,” I said, “Which way to Heaven?”

“Up,” said Laura.

I looked up. There was a ledge above me that looked like it led in the direction I needed to go, though the ramp that led there lay in pieces on the ground. The plasma jets cut in and I made a short jump, but as I came down, I felt dizzy. I shook off the sensation and continued, moving more carefully this time.

Some sections of the building I recognized, others were unfamiliar. Perhaps I had come through them with the censoring goggles on. There were still surprisingly few sentries along the way, increasing my concern. Again before I could think more about it, I was interrupted.

“Rachel is approaching and will be here in less than ten minutes,” said Laura, as I made my way through the corridors. The mention of her name left me apprehensive. She wasn’t safe here. She couldn’t fight back.

“How do you know?” I asked.

“We can communicate with each other through a variety of means in this environment,” she explained.

“What method told you she was here at the moment?” I asked.

“I can see the telltales in the millimeter band,” said Laura.

I paused.

“I thought that didn’t go very far,” I said.

“It doesn’t” said Laura, “It’s a tactical system, but it relays what’s happening outside the building.”

I stopped for a moment to think about it.

“Laura, can you turn it off?” I asked.

“Then you won’t have ballistics data,” Laura warned.

The ballistics information was useful, but it only just occurred to me that the ST42s might be advanced enough to triangulate our position through the waves, even if reflected. To another Demon or even an Angel, they might be like someone coming down a dark hall with a flashlight on.

“I can do without the data Laura and we’re not a passive chassis as the moment. We’re active and that compromises us tactically. Please shut down all external transmitters.” I asked.

Several aspects of the augmented reality display changed as the system dealt with a sudden lack of input. I was down to image intensifiers now which struggled with the low-interior-light levels and the occasionally blast of direct sunlight which came through fist sized-holes caused by recent fighting.

“I’ll do what I can with other systems. I’ll update you with real-time telemetry from my sisters as they move through this building on search and rescue.”

In my vision, I saw distance images enter the building and flit through the corridors. They appeared almost like ghosts as they moved at distance and built up image information that added to what Laura was already providing me. As agile as I was, the Angels seemed to do this naturally. They would move then turn suddenly as if they were on rails.

The images were a little distracting but I understood the importance of the overview. I was holding a weapon capable of passing through several walls. Laura didn’t want me accidently hitting one of her sisters.

“Mister Carlson?” Laura asked then Paused.

“What is it?” I responded, moving down a small ramp.

“My sisters are encountering no resistance. They’re going to check out Heaven’s gate,” she said.

“I wouldn’t advise that,” I said.

“I didn’t, they located heat signals of injured persons and are investigating,” Laura said, “There’s no indication of Demon activity in the area.”

I thought about my earlier ambush, how one of these new Demons had been waiting for me.

“Tell them to pull back,” I said, hurrying a little.

“They too are aware that your time is limited,” Laura said.

Putting together what they saw, Laura pre-mapped the corridors for me as I moved forward showing me the path to follow to make my way through to Heaven. I broke into a run now, suddenly concerned the other Angels were in danger.

“Laura, tell them to pull back, I’m nearly there,” I asked.

“They are aware of the situation,” Laura said, “And they cannot respond. We need to locate where the Demons have taken Staci.”

I had almost reached the Angel Research division when the sound of heavy weaponsfire dropped me to one knee, peering over my weapon. I heard a gasp come from Laura as I dropped into a crouch.

“Fia,” Laura suddenly cried out.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Fia is in the repair section, just outside of Heaven,” she said, “She was trying to retrieve wounded staff and she just went offline.”

Laura’s voice sounded on the verge of panic. A heavy feeling entered my stomach as I jumped back up and began to sprint.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

“She’s gone,” Laura said.

“She left the area?” I asked.

“No, she’s gone,” Laura sounded distraught now, “I told her not to go in there after what you said, but she told me there was no activity coming from inside.”

I thought about the sounds of fire I had heard.

“She said the area appeared to have been cleared and was returning to remove the wounded when she was ambushed. There were three Demons leaving the main vault and, they, Oh my god, they killed her,” Laura’s broken voice managed.

“How far are we from there?” I asked.

“Through these doors and to the right, one hundred meters. The corridor is open and there are several wounded guards in there,” she said.

I tried to remember the layout from my prior visit as well as view the map Laura was updating. The final update from Fia showed me the corridor with three Demons at the end of it. There wasn’t going to be a lot of cover so if the Demons were ready and an Angel down, I might have only a short time to help.

I ran up to the final security door that separated me from the corridor I needed to get into. Security doors are pretty solid and tend to stop people rather effectively. They don’t stop Demons and they can’t stop an Archangel at full run. Both doors shattered as I kicked them open and continued through, sprinting up the short corridor to the vault.

This area had been ripped apart by several firefights and the walls and floors were covered with the remains of the defenders. Thermal information in the augmented reality seemed to confirm Laura’s thoughts that some might still be alive, but none were moving.

The Demons were all waiting, but the Angel must have taken them by surprise and they were all looking away from me. I came through at full run, Tesla weapon already aiming before they knew I was there. Although I was completed underarmored and probably had far less firepower, the Archangel chassis was fast. Demons, even when well tuned, were slow and bulky while the Archangel felt like I was sitting inside soft armor. It was quick as well, almost too quick for my mind to follow. Hopefully it was too fast for the weapons tracking systems of the three Demons in such a confined area.

Passing the first Demon which was open, sans pilot, I ran behind a small transport tray that was loaded with Mind nodes and prototype Angel Minds.

The unsuited pilot snapped his head around and ran for his Demon while the other two Demons were just beginning to turn towards me. I only caught a glimpse of him, but it was enough to recognize who it was. Joel.

He pulled out a sidearm and started shooting back at me but by that time I was already behind one of the ST42s. The pilot must have realized I was there because he twisted on the spot as I pushed the Tesla weapon into his back. Then I fired.

At this range, it didn’t need to completely ionize the path to deliver its manmade lightning into the Demon. The power felt like a sudden warming of the veins in my arm as they went surging into the piloting cavity that should be right behind where I was aiming. I must have missed though because as damaged as it was, it was still responding and a half-second later the Tesla weapon stopped firing and began to cycle.

The autocannon opened fire before fully aimed and began ripping through the roof, filling the air with ferrocrete dust and larger pieces of debris that rained down. Several bright flashes then expanded from its shoulder as the other Demon opened fire, its own autocannon trying the reach me his squadmate.

I lurched backwards as I tried to avoid the stream of projectiles, the millimeter tracking system coming back online as the fighting started.

I stepped back in and grabbed the first Demon, holding it’s autocannon to the side, using it as a shield from the other. We struggled for a moment, before its size overpowered me and I began to lose ground. The Demon outweighed me ten times. It had solid beams for a skeleton while I had only hollow alloy rods. The physics favored it significantly, but even with the weight difference, it wasn’t able to find a suitable fulcrum yet. That cut down its advantage.

Regardless, it was still bringing the autocannon around and the brief wrestle wasn’t going to protect me from that. The air grew thick with smoke and noise and only the flashes of autocannon warheads illuminated the room as the lights failed. For a moment I thought it was going to push back far enough to aim, leaving me defenseless. Then it managed to find some leverage for a moment and completely overpowered the smaller Archangel chassis. It didn’t leave me any way out.

I was thrown forcefully back into the wall behind me. The the huge barrel came around until it was pointed directly at me as I struggled to my feet. Something started screaming.

Call it luck or call it stupidity on the behalf of the pilot behind. He must have been panicking because he continued to fire, each round hitting the demon between us.

None of my former squad would have been so undisciplined as to fire without a valid target so I knew it was a mercenary.

As heavily armored as the ST42 was, it couldn’t sustain that many close hits from behind. Several hit the autocannon, obliterating the magazine and destroying the weapon. Shrapnel stung my face and arms as it exploded.

The amount of dust and debris in the room now was affecting even the millimeter vision so I took advantage of the smoke and confusion. Ducking beneath the Demon I was facing, I moved past both of them. There wasn’t much time and I needed to eliminate both of them quickly. First the undisciplined Demon and then I would deal with my former Squadmate. My metal hands responded as I squeezed the trigger, but the weapon didn’t fire. I squeezed tighter then heard a crack as I crushed the handle of the Tesla weapon, then it came apart in my hands.

Not sure what else to do and reacting on instinct, I reached over my shoulder and pulled the railgun forward. It was difficult for even the Archangel’s advanced sensors to see. I aimed blindly and fired.

In such a confined space the use of a full-sized railgun would have been suicidal. Using even a smaller weapon wasn’t bright and I remembered the damage the last shot had done. The weapon kicked hard as a massive electrical discharge propelled the minute projectile from the second barrel, pushing me back away from the Demon I had just aimed at.

Then the pressure within the room spiked as plasma erupted around me. Debris and dust in the room became homogenous with the air and for a moment my sensors whited out. I stumbled sideways, blinded but not wanting to be in the same place in case my foe was still able to respond.

“What were you thinking, firing that thing in here?” Laura screamed at me.

As my sensors began to work once more, I was initially shocked to see the outline of a Demon still standing there and at first thought it was the last thing I was going to see. Then the still-armed Demon began to collapse from a structural failure and I could just make out through the haze what my shot had done.

The projectile barely grazed the hip of the Demon I had aimed at but that was enough to deliver its massive kinetic energy into the armor and rip it apart. The internal structure hadn’t been spared it seemed. It collapsed to the ground with a crunching sound. I stumbled over fresh debris and staggered into the middle of the room. I needed to see again.

“Laura, switch on all augmented vision systems,” I asked.

I watched the augmented reality system cycling through different frequencies as Laura tried to find the optimal frequency to cut through the all-obscuring dust. It probably contained as much metal as silicon now. Then the building extraction system kicked in. Large fans sucked the dust-filled air from the room and replaced it with clean. As the air cleared I got to see what the shot had done.

Just behind the fallen first Demon was the debris of the second. It had exploded when the containment fields collapsed, killing the pilot instantly. From what remained of the chassis, it looked like the projectile had formed a shockwave of high velocity material as it passed through the first Demon chassis. What continue on had struck the second like a hyperkinetic shotgun blast. The ST42 would have been significantly protected against most attacks, but this one ripped through it without resistance. Beyond where it stood, I could see a basketball sized hole punched through a foot-thick blast wall, attesting to the power of the weapon.

As the pod of the fallen Demon cracked open, I was surprised to see Patrick there. He fell out backwards, coughing and choking on the remaining dust. I stepped forward to pull him up and deliver an ultimatum when I almost tripped on something. Looking down I saw the a smooth titanium surface under a panel. I leaned over and cleared the debris that covered it, finding an Angel beneath it.

“Fia!” I heard Laura screaming, now aware what the noise in my head had been during the battle.

The titanium form was limp and without movement as I lifted it. One arm was badly damaged and there was some heavy damage to the centre of the torso. It looked like she had been hit by autocannon fire. From the thermals, I could tell her reactor was still functional but was shutting down. There was no power dissipation from her core.

“They killed her, they murdered her,” screamed Laura in my mind.

I walked back to a bench at the side of the room and laid her down, putting her hands across the wound in her midsection.

“Can’t we do something to keep her running until she can be repaired?” I asked. From the lack of thermal activity I knew the answer though. Laura was crying now and I guessed that the damage was more than could be fixed.

“She’s gone, she’s gone. They hit her power conduits. They murdered her,” Laura cried back, her voice a mixture of rage and grief.

Standing there in the now silent room I stepped back from the metal body, wishing there was something I could do, not knowing what to say. I tried to remember which Angel Fia had been when I was at the party. My thoughts went back to the aunt that Staci idolized. She had given her a similar top so they could look the same. Rachel would be devastated too.

It seemed deeply ironic that the place in which she had died was where I thought they fixed Rachel after her damage. Even in this place where Angels were repaired, it was possible for them to die. It must have been a lucky shot. From the damage it looked like they hit her from behind, the projectile pushing its way out through the front of the chassis. She had come in here thinking that it was safe and was trying to rescue the remaining injured guards.

Why had she taken that risk? Angels were cautious in approaching danger. How had the Demon responded quickly enough to hit her in a confined area? These new Demons must have been designed to deal with the threat of Angels, because one had nearly taken me down. The intensity of Laura’s grief began to subside as she regained control of her emotions and began to talk once more.

“Why did she come in here?” Laura asked, “Why did she take on the Demons directly?”

I didn’t want to answer her. She already knew what had happened. There was no sense in re-iterating my warning after the event. Laura would still be struggling with the guilt that she hadn’t acted sooner. At least if she were a human, she would. I walked over to the flatbed, ignoring Patrick as he rolled on the floor trying to regain control over his limbs. I didn’t want these remaining MIND nodes damaged any further so started to push them back towards the vault. It was difficult, even in the Archangel. The tires had been blown out by shrapnel.

“Be very careful with those nodes,” warned Laura through her grief, “They are critical.”

“Which one is Staci?” I asked.

Laura seemed to pause them screamed in my mind.

“Oh my god, she’s not here.”

I walked in through the broken doorway to Heaven and looked inside. Hiding barely beyond the entry were four engineers that appeared to be cowering beside a MIND node on a maintenance trolley. As I stepped forward, they stood back, their eyes flashing with fear at just the presence of the Archangel chassis. In the back of my mind, I could hear Laura still screaming that Staci wasn’t here.

“Get out of here, now,” I said to them. At first they didn’t respond, so I lifted the railgun, the only weapon I still had, and I repeated the request. This time they moved, running from the once-secure facility.

I returned outside and still needed to secure the remaining nodes. Patrick didn’t seem to know when to give up. He was crawling towards the unmanned Demon. I stowed the railgun and walked over to the Demon it had cut almost in half. Its autocannon was large but it looked like the smaller Archangel chassis could still operate it. The function seemed entirely mechanical.

Dust fell from it as I picked it up. It was a lot heavier than I expected, though the weight wasn’t really a problem. If Staci had already been taken then I needed to know where to find her.

“Broadcast me,” I said to Laura. I didn’t wait for her response, knowing now she would do it, even in her present state of grief and pain.

Patrick was trying to pull himself up into the other Demon even as he knew I was there.

“Where’s the extraction point?” I demanded from Patrick.

He seemed to hear and recognized my voice. He dropped back to the ground, rolling over with his hands up.

“Jonathan?” he asked.

“Stand aside,” I said, broadcasting to Patrick.

“Jon, we still have to find Staci,” Laura was screaming, “Just eliminate the threats and let’s go.”

Some panels moved at the back of the room and I saw a face through the gap, eye wide with terror. It was Joel. Behind him I thought I could make out another person. They were still alive, though dust had highlighted the blood seeping from their face and eyes like red cement. The skin around his forehead was blistering as well. He hadn’t had time to re-enter his own chassis before the fight started but had survived the plasma vent. He was doing his best to hide now. I saw a radio microphone drop from his lips when I moved the large autocannon in his direction briefly. I returned my aim to Patrick.

“Patrick, stand aside from that chassis now,” I said, hoping he would give me an excuse to avenge Fia for Rachel. His eyes opened wide and he dived to the side just before I fired a short burst into the open Demon. Sparks erupted from shredded control circuits as the shells ripped into the soft interior, forcing the chassis into an immediate failsafe mode. The Demon shut down immediately and was effectively disabled. Patrick froze as I re-aligned the weapon on him, then slowly lifted his hands and sunk to his knees.

“If you want to kill these men, I will make sure it’s as though it never happened,” Laura said with a viciousness that surprised me, “I’ve suppressed video.”

I stepped forward and pressed the tip of the barrel to Patrick’s forehead, burning a circular mark in there. He screamed and recoiled as the hot metal touched bare flesh.

“Once again, where is the extraction point?”

Joel stopped screaming and began to shake. I heard something behind me but a quick glance with my peripheral vision told me it wasn’t a threat.

“Your just going to kill me if I tell you,” he said, eyes wide.

“I will kill you if you don’t.” I warned.

“I don’t know,” Patrick screamed. From his eyes, the terror they held, I believed him. He was too afraid to lie at the moment. He really wasn’t made of the right stuff to replace me.

“Kill them,” Laura demanded. She was upset. Irrational.

“Laura,” I said, breaking the address system, “I’m not going to kill them if they surrender.”

“Mister Carlson,” she started to argue, then a voice from behind me spoke.

“I hope that’s a fucking Angel,” it said.

I turned to look then. These guys looked like police rather than the usual facility guards that I had passed on the way in. They didn’t seem to know who to point their weapons at.

“Give me address again, Laura,” I said before I spoke.

“Where is he?” I asked Patrick.

Patrick tilted his head. He didn’t understand.

“Louis,” I added.

Patrick shook his head twice.

“He’s already gone,” he said, “Ten minutes ago.”

“What’s his destination?” I demanded.

“I don’t know,” Patrick relayed, “We were to receive details once we left with the second transport.”

I lifted the autocannon slightly and moved it threateningly closer, making Patrick flinch. He spoke quickly, terror eating away at his self control. His face looked away but his eyes remained glued, squinting at the huge barrel he faced.

“He’s got a different extraction point, he took the first engineering team and moved out. I don’t know where point Alpha is. We were to extract through the city and then the harbor.”

“He’s lying,” came Laura’s voice. She sounded out of control, “We need to find my daughter.”

I watched his face for a moment then lowered the autocannon.

“Laura, he’s not lying. Wherever Louis is we’ll find Staci.”

I turned to the police who were still waiting for a response.

“Take these men and hold them,” I pointed to Patrick and Joel, “They have a lot to answer for but no harm is to befall them, understood?”

The police officer I took to be the one in charge swallowed slowly and nodded, lowering his rifle. He started to direct the others.

“They didn’t deserve to live,” Laura said. It felt like an accusation.

I didn’t respond as I walked outside, discarding the now empty plasma rifle as I left the repair room. My focus was entirely on the mission now and there was no way I was going to let them take Staci.

* * * *

Chapter 20 - Ascension

It was the eyes of the police and security guards that I passed which served to remind me I wasn’t softsuiting as I walked through the research buildings. Each reflected back at me with a mixture of awe and fear in equal parts. I guess Angels are rare enough and angels carrying weapons were unheard of. With its much smaller size, the Archangel prototype would have looked very much like an autonomous machine.

But none of them made any move to stop me. Aside from being half again taller than they were the glances they gave to my damaged armor would have told them I was fresh from combat.

“Mister Carlson, please find my daughter,” Laura cried softly in a voice that only existed inside my head.

“I need to find Louis Bale, my former squadleader,” I said back as I made my way from the Arilssman research wing.

“I’ll find a way to give you whatever resources you need to hunt him down, but please find Staci first,” Laura begged.

I think if she could have, she would have taken over the Archangel prototype then. I needed to find a way to reason with her artificial mind before she began to work against me.

“Laura, did you see a railgun in that room?” I asked.

“No, Mister Carlson,”she answered.

“Did you see the number of engineers and support staff you expected?”

“No,” she said quietly.

“So then wherever Louis is, Staci is also. He won’t leave the first team. He’s far too professional for that. They may not be exactly together though – it wouldn’t be unlike him to shadow the rest of his team, but he’s the most dangerous.”

Laura was quiet for a moment.

“I’ve been compromised, haven’t I?” Laura asked softly.

“No, I think your response is quite,” I paused, “Human.”

“I’m falling apart. I’ve never had to face the environment my daughter was born to. I don’t think I can do this.”

I felt like I was in combat with a rookie. For everything Laura had trained for and done in her life, directly participating in a tactical combat situation involving her daughter wasn’t one of them. I’m sure she had trained in many simulations but it suddenly occurred to me that she simply wasn’t able to deal with the stress of seeing someone she cared for killed.

“Laura lock that down now, we’re here to perform a rescue mission and you don’t have time to wallow in self pity. I need you to focus on the mission objective,” I surprised myself as I yelled at her.

There was a silence and for a moment I thought I might have overstepped the mark. She wasn’t a soldier, she was an AI and a mother at that. I was about to apologize when she spoke to me, her voice a little more steady now.

“What are the mission objectives, Sir?” she asked. It was forced and I could hear the pain still in her voice, but it made me smile.

“Primary Objective, search and rescue of Staci Roberts and the missing Mindspace nodes. Secondary Objective, kill or capture Louis Bale.”

I found myself barking out orders at Laura like she was a new squad member. For all intents and purposes, she was that and more. She was also my weapons system officer – a luxury rarely afforded in Demons.

“Sir, what do you require of me,” she asked.

“Are my jets still functional?”

“Your jets are operational, but your body has lost a lot of blood. You won’t be able to withstand any serious acceleration,” Laura said evenly.

“Take me up Laura, I want to get an aerial view of what’s going on,” I said.

“You’re going to be an easy target if elevated,” she said.

“I don’t think Louis is going to be waiting for me, he’s going to be running,” I responded.

“Will he know it’s you?” Laura asked.

“No, but he will know something is up. He’s arranged two extraction points and he’s the last Demon we need to deal with. I think he’s going to be expecting trouble.”

Moments later I heard the whining sound of radial compressors then the ground suddenly dropped away. As the Archangel prototype rose into the air, I could feel a buzzing sensation on my skin that wasn’t there before. Something was vibrating. I pushed that thought behind me. Somewhere, Louis was making a getaway and I had no idea how far he had managed to get already. Even at slow acceleration, it didn’t take long to make it to several hundred feet and look down on the complex below.

“They’ve set up roadblocks at the main entrance,” I said, looking at the police vehicles parked in a line near where two stilled Simians still stood silently. The general police didn’t seem willing to enter the facility itself. I couldn’t blame them.

It was difficult to guess what direction Louis would have headed off in. I assumed he intended to find either a safehouse or extraction point and I was guessing an extraction point was most likely. I still can’t understand how my former squad had all turned traitor and I blame Louis for that. He was the kind of leader that tended to dominate the weaker minded and they followed him without question. I saw him differently after I became aware what he was really like. It probably hadn’t been difficult for him to turn the others against me.

But he had outdone himself in convincing the entire squad to join the Asian union as Mercenaries. Even if they had lost his ticket to pilot Demons, I had no idea how he managed that. Now I needed to find him. Without Demons to provide support, there would be little stopping him from escaping and I wasn’t going to let him take Staci. She might just be another AI imitating a young girl but I wasn’t able to think of her that way. Not anymore. I couldn’t even see Rachel as just an AI any more.

On a hunch, based on where I had encountered the Monk, I flew in that direction out past the rest of the campus. It was a quiet semi industrial area in which half of the buildings were sealed off from the rest of the city. They were all Arilssman-owned buildings. That way would allow Louis to get right into the city before he encountered everyone and it wasn’t far from the harbor.

I angled my legs to take me in that direction. It felt slow as we picked up speed. I was too high and too underpowered at the moment.

“I need more speed,” I said to Laura, “Can we go any faster?”

“No Sir, your injuries won’t allow for high-G maneuvering and you also have some slight compressor damage,” she said, “I can give you a little more.”

Compressor damage? I remembered the vibration when we took off. But the acceleration limits had me worried. How much blood had I lost?

“How much time to I have?” I asked.

“You will need medical assistance when this is over, but you will be otherwise fine at the present level of acceleration,” Laura said.

I thought that through.

“What’s my blood pressure?” I asked.

Laura hesitated long enough that I realized she didn’t want to answer me. The thought crossed my mind briefly that she might be willing to let me die so that I could save her daughter. I didn’t wait for her response.

“Are there any Angels that can provide support or assist in the search?” I asked.

“Presently no, but three more are enroute at the moment,” Laura said.

“Is Rachel amongst them?” I asked, the image of Fia still in my mind.

“Rachel is with them,” Laura confirmed.

The realization that she might be in direct danger from Louis bothered me. He wasn’t likely to ignore an Angel if he had a chance to take one down. Not after what Rachel did to his hand.

“Can you keep them back from contact if they locate Louis?” I asked.

“They already know now that Staci is in danger, I don’t think they will listen to me unless they agree with my requests,” Laura said.

Things were rapidly escalating. Now I couldn’t afford to wait or Rachel was going to get involved and be in danger. I felt my anger rising at the situation. It frustrated me. I angled further forward trying to get more acceleration but Laura would be limiting me. Although I knew I was already moving quickly, the urgency seemed to make the short distance seem further than it was.

Moving over the buildings with as much altitude as I thought I could risk, I caught sight of an internal Arilssman truck moving down the street with what looked like a tarpaulin covering its cargo. There were several people on it and one of them was standing at a large mounted weapon that was probably the railgun I had encountered earlier.

Although it was just a glance, I knew I had found them. Given the clear line of sight I had, they also would have known about me. I also saw enough to ID the driver. Even from this distance, it looked like Robert. The same technician who had hacked the private server and allowed my former squadmates to torture me before he shut down my organs. He would have succeeded too if not for Laura’s intervention.

The truck was still inside the Arilssman facility at the moment but they were approaching the fence that marked where Arilssman campus ended and public space began. That meant that for the moment there were no civilians in this area. Unless I counted myself.

I circled at a safe distance to get a second look. Louis would be somewhere and I needed to know where he was.

“Let me know if you see Louis,” I asked Laura.

A brief flash of something vaguely humanoid presented itself as I passed between two buildings.

“I believe that may be your objective,” Laura indicated, highlighting the shape.

It wasn’t a very good view and I only got a glance. I didn’t recognize the chassis it was based on, but it didn’t look anything like an ST42.

“Laura, did you see that? What sort of Demon was that?” I asked.

“I don’t recognize it, it’s not a classified Demon,” she said as an enhanced image of it appeared in my vision.

Unlike me, Laura had managed to get quite a good photograph of it. I tried to place it based on the detail but it was like nothing I had ever seen before. It didn’t really resemble any of the Chinese manufactured Demons I had encountered or heard of. If anything, it looked like a slightly larger and more heavily armored version of the Archangel chassis I was piloting.

There was more space around the chest for the pilot and it must have had a more advanced reactor than most Chinese chassis. It almost looked like a powered armor suit and was far smaller than any other military Demon I had seen. The similarities to the chassis I was using couldn’t have been entirely co-incidental.

“The Chinese are working on their own Angels, aren’t they?” I asked Laura as I moved back behind the cover of a building.

I touched ground in an alley that looked strangely familiar and moved into a cover position. Laura made a noise that sounded strangely like she was blowing air out of her nostrils, which she didn’t have.

“Sir, that information is classified and we’re running out of time.”

Something about the constant drip feeding of intelligence at that point became too much and I snapped at her.

“Laura, I’m doing my best here to rescue your daughter and all you’re doing is throwing obstacles in my way. I’m not a puppet OK? Rachel is in danger and you’re playing this game with me. I’m not a soldier anymore but you’ve led me into something I can’t just walk away from. No matter how much you tell me I already know too much so how about you start to trust me and just tell me everything.”

I held my tongue at my slip up. The buildup of anger and emotion caused my hormones to surge and I felt a dizzy sensation pass. Even under strenuous combat conditions I couldn’t remember feeling like this. I struggled to get my emotions under control once more and for a moment I thought I heard a choking sound like Laura was going to cry. Her voice sounded broken when it finally came back to me.

“Mister Carlson, just how much do you know about Angels?” she asked quietly.

At least she stopped calling me sir.

“Not as much as I would like to.”

I moved through the alleys as we talked, trying to find a way to see the convoy without being seen.

“Angels can’t hurt people, Mister Carlson,” Laura said.

“But I can, right?”

“Yes.”

“So what aren’t you telling me still?” I asked.

“Your injured.”

“Something I don’t know.”

“You’re badly injured and between your emotional outbursts and your reduced blood pressure, you’re beginning to desynchronize.”

I thought about the sensations I was experiencing. That explained the lightheadedness.

“You said I had two hours,” I said.

“That was before your bleeding started again. Your blood pressure is dropping and your oxygenation levels are almost at the critical point.”

It was easy to fight when I couldn’t feel my wounds, but eventually they would still stop me.

“I’ll get a move on,” was all that came to mind to say.

“Mister Carlson, if you get too close to losing sync, I want you get some distance and use the railgun to destroy the objective.”

I stopped and ducked into a doorway as she said that. The implication sat like a rock in my stomach.

“Laura that means,” I started.

“That Staci will be killed. Mister Carlson, I know what that monster is capable of as much as you do. Did you know that the victim you saw wasn’t his first?”

I didn’t. In fact, I didn’t even want to make certain she was talking about what I thought she was talking about. I could have stopped Louis there and that day. I didn’t have to follow those orders. I was the second youngest member of the team and didn’t know what to do at the time. At least not before I had time to think about it.

“Louis Bale has raped AIs before, Mister Carlson. He practiced his interrogation techniques long before your joined second squad. If we reach the point that you can no longer fight, I won’t let him to escape with her. She knows too many secrets and I fear they’ll use him to break her.”

Laura’s voice was breaking as she said it and I felt like I was about to relive my nightmarish former life all over again. I looked down at the rail gun in my hands. There was no way I could take Staci’s life no matter the consequences but there was no way I could let Louis get away with her. A rock and a hard place didn’t get any worse than this.

“How much time do I have?”

“Five minutes. Maybe less.”

“Can you control this chassis if I fall?” I asked.

“Like an autopilot?” Laura clarified, then answered the question anyway, “Perhaps, but I cannot fight and I could not be the one to take my own daughters life.”

That completed the missing picture, letting me understand why I was here. Laura could interfere, but wasn’t able to conclude the matter if it came down to it. If necessary, she trusted I would take the action she couldn’t. That I would become Staci’s assassin. I wondered if she understood that it wasn’t an action I was willing to take either. That only left me with one way forward. I had to think outside of the box. For Laura’s sake. For my own sake.

“Where does the oxygen supply come from?” I asked.

“I cold-compress compress filtered air, fractionally distill it by temperature, analyze it for purity then store it for you,” said Laura.

“How do you control the gas mix?” I asked.

“Based on tables,” Laura answered.

“Give me pure oxygen,” I asked.

“That’s restricted due to possible oxygen based neurological interference and the upper limits recommended for operating with Neurointerfaces…” she managed before I interrupted her.

“Give me pure oxygen, then I won’t black out and I promise I won’t lose sync,” I demanded.

“I can’t do that, Mister Carlson, You’re already operating outside of the envelope and over-supply of oxygen could cause permanent loss of proprioception,” Laura warned.

I already knew that.

“We were both outside of the envelope the moment you came to me for help,” I argued.

“You still need to withdraw while you can,” Laura said, though any force in her voice now just a façade since I fully understood the situation.

Her words sounded hollow, pained. My withdrawal would mean that Staci would be destroyed at her own mother’s request. I couldn’t understand how Laura could sound so calm at a time like this. Had she calculated that we were out of options? I tried to think of her as an AI with different values, but then she had seduced and taken the lead engineer on the project that created the Angels just so that she could have a daughter.

She had even allowed her daughter to be created and primed for military use, accepting that as the price of having her only child. That all seemed entirely too human to me. Now Laura was having to face a choice that no parent should ever have to make. Staci would die and once again Louis would get away in an advanced model Demon. I assumed that his chassis was far more agile also and would be harder to hit. Conventional anti-Demon weapons that the police might have access to wouldn’t be all that effective.

Only another, or perhaps several, Demons could take Louis down and he had already neutralized the defending squadron. If Robert was still able to hack Demons, to break in and shut down the neuro-routines that kept the pilots body alive, then there was nothing that could challenge him.

Laura knew that also, but she was asking me to withdraw for my safety as much as the need to make sure that Staci wouldn’t be taken. I wasn’t about to allow her access to either option. Louis wasn’t the only one trained in AI subversion techniques though my methods weren’t as brutal. It was time to subvert Laura now to my way of thinking.

“In for a penny, in for a pound Laura,” I said.

“I don’t understand,” Laura said.

“It’s a very, very old saying my mum taught me. It means that once you take action like we did, you’re already in trouble. Since the penalty is extreme regardless, there’s no point holding back anymore. I’ve got a feeling we’re both going to be in a lot of trouble for what we’ve done. After all, I’m not authorized to use this Chassis am I? The reality is that I stole it with your help. So since we’re in it this deep, all we can do is keep on digging. If we take down Louis, then at least we might redeem ourselves. Otherwise, we’ve already lost.” I said, trying to think quickly how to get my point across.

“Things are different now, Mister Carlson,” said Laura.

“Different why?” I asked.

“I did not expect that the circumstances would lead to this situation. Staci was not with the other nodes when we breached the research center. The odds are significant now that you will not take down Louis Bale within the remaining time.”

“How is that?” I asked.

“I’ve read through your military history reports and I know how good a pilot you are. I also know how good Louis Bale is and you’ve most likely correctly identified the pilot. He’s aware you’re here and he’s ready for you. You’re already injured and at the best of times, he’s a superior fighter. The chassis he is piloting is not an ST42 but is most likely similar in performance to your own and is undamaged while you have limited time left before oxygen deprivation takes hold. If you fight him injured, you’re going to lose and then you can’t do what I require.”

I smiled and wondered if my chassis had the capability to smile as Rachel’s did. My anger surged as I found myself compensating for lack of oxygen with rage.

“Then if he defeats me, we’re going to do enough damage to him so that the police and ground forces can stop him and save Staci. Whatever happens, I won’t let him escape and I’m not going to kill Staci. The AIs in those nodes, your daughter included, are more human than anything I’ve ever encountered. They deserve a chance to live too.”

I stopped to take a breath as I realized the lack of oxygen was affecting my reflexes. It only served to make me angrier and I found myself shouting.

“And I’m not going to let anyone take them, especially not that bastard Louis. If that motherfucking prick thinks that he’s a better fucking pilot that me, I’m going that take that Chinese chassis and shove it up his fucking ass.”

I was screaming now, my own words pounding in my ears as though they never came from me.

“Laura, you’re Staci’s mother. She relies on you to protect her and if that means you and I go down, then I’ll go down fighting so cut your damn whining and give me the fucking oxygen I asked for!”

Then I remembered again what I had just said and who I had said it to. She wasn’t a soldier. She wasn’t even a conscript. She was a mother trying to deal with a situation beyond her control. She had asked for my help and all I had done was question her at every point. I took a deep breath and calmed down.

“I’m sorry Laura, I shouldn’t have said that to you,” I added, quickly and quietly.

Laura’s voice came through then with a mixture of both defiance and pride in her words.

“I can see why they selected you, Mister Carlson,” she said and my fingers start to tingle as the oxygen saturated my brain tissue and my mind came to life again. With the lower blood pressure, the monitors wouldn’t correctly work out my blood oxygenation. All I could hope was that I had lost enough blood that pure oxygen wasn’t going to overload my neurocircuits before I did what I had to.

I was also about to ask who they were, when I saw movement and ducked back into the shadows. Louis was here already and it was time to finish this. Somewhere, echoing through the streets, I heard a voice that set my adrenaline racing as it broadcast through the alleys. Word of who was piloting the suit must have gotten out after all.

“Is that really you Jonathan? Tell me, did you really manage to lead a team that took out my entire squad you piece of shit? Come on out and let’s settle this for once and for all,” he goaded.

I waited until he walked past the alleyway knowing he would focus his attention ahead while he waited for the others to protect his rear. Louis was like that. He always preferred to have the rest of the squad cover his ass while he took all the glory for himself. If I walked out into the open, either Louis or Robert would cut me down before I could do anything.

But I also knew it was a weakness of Louis’ that was pushing him to act this way. He couldn’t adapt well to being on his own without the backup of the other Demons. He would be less likely to notice my approach once he was past me and as I got close to him he wouldn’t be able to respond quickly. All I had to do was take him down quickly and leave the rest to the police.

Without a Demon to protect them, the transport would fall. The railgun was a formidable weapon but those using it were unarmored. They would surrender quickly once Louis was out of the fight. I too had a railgun with at least one cartridge left in it. If I got in a lucky shot, it would be all over. Then I could retreat to find medical attention. I deliberately ignored that fact that as soon as I fired, the much larger railgun on the transport would almost certainly open fire on my position and kill me.

Moving up to the edge of the alley, my point of view shifted and I was looking down the sights of the railgun.

“I’ve adjusted your perspective for this shot,” said Laura, her voice calm and professional once again. She was becoming very good at anticipating my needs and seemed to be well motivated now. Did she know there was a good chance neither of us would make it out of this?

Keeping behind cover as well as I could, I edged the railgun out past the corner until I sighted Louis’ Demon. There wasn’t much time to look at it since I needed to end this as quickly as possible. From here I could see the add-on armor that attached tightly to the chassis Louis was piloting. The chassis itself walked almost as smoothly as an Angel, right down to emulating Louis’ natural swagger. It was easy to imagine that it was just an armored suit and that Louis was simply twice as tall as he usually was.

I knew differently. This was just a very small, very powerful Demon. I lowered the aim until the barrel was aligned directly with the oversized centre of the chassis where either the body or the reactor would be located. Then I gently squeezed the trigger before my vision vanished in a tearing, painful sensation and my point of view rapidly returned as I was thrown backwards through the wall behind me.

Above the crashing sound of building material, I heard Laura screaming my name as I fell over and bounced off furniture and through the thin internal walls of the office. Archangel skin may be titanium but it feels pain too. As I went flying through masonry, steel and plaster, I felt a lot of pain. At first I felt the world closing in around me, then it stopped when I could see only a small tunnel and slowly re-expanded as my senses started coming back to me.

“What happened?” I asked, still feeling as if I was on fire.

There was a huge explosion back from the corner of the building I had come through as the mounted enemy railgun ripped the entire corner from it in a fireball of flammable material.

“Railgun failure,” said Laura.

“How?” I asked, still trying to get my wits around me as I rolled over and crawled to my knees.

“The rails shorted and vaporized. Too much plasma blew out through the rear of the weapon,” Laura said.

I rolled over to a sitting position, feeling like I had just fallen down a mountain as yet another explosion from the edge of the building sent debris my way. Looking back outside through the hole my exploding weapon created, I saw Louis on the ground. He was struggling to get up while lifting a Demon-sized plasma rifle single handed. The other arm was missing from the upper elbow down. It looked like the round from the failed railgun had still managed to hit the target at least.

I threw the archangel chassis to the side to dodge the hail of fire as Louis’ large plasma weapon ripped through the building, tearing even more of the damaged interior apart.

“Laura, turn ballistic tracking back on,” I said as I barreled the chassis through several soft walls until I found myself on the outside again. High velocity rounds continued to blow their way through the walls of the building.

Each of those shots suddenly became a digital line in my vision as the ballistics tracking showed me the path they were taking. From the spacing of the lines and the new ones appearing, I could see that Louis was coming down the alley beside the building, firing as he went. In moments, he would see me and I had no way to defend myself. I felt for a weapon then realized I was out. With nowhere else to go I ran back into the building just as the front erupted into more dust and flame. Another railgun shot reminded me I was trapped.

I was still a lot smaller than Louis’s Demon inside the Archangel chassis. His larger chassis would have trouble following me into the smaller building. Although he too could probably push his way through walls if he wanted to, he would obscure his own vision with the debris he created. Once he realized that, he would return to his escape plan, whether I was on his tail or not.

I made my way to the roof and, after checking behind me, walked to the edge as the building started to sag on the way to collapse.

“Laura, give me jets,” I called, planning to get some distance between us and then come back for another pass.

It started with a small vibration that started in my chest and then it felt like I was going to be shaken apart. A grinding sensation ripped through my chest with enough intensity to drop me to a knee.

“Laura, I think I’m having a cardiac arrest,” I said, wondering if my oxygen levels had climbed too high and my implants and nervous system were desyncing.

“No you’re not, you can’t feel your own body yet. What you experienced was your chassis suffering a direct failure of the compressor,” she said.

I stood, trying to ignore the burning sensation in my chest.

“So this, what I’m feeling, is all just the chassis?” I asked, fearful now.

“Your chassis was damaged by your railgun failure,” Laura said.

I cursed my luck. Not only had the easy chance to end this been lost, but now I was also worse off for it. Robert and the engineers on the truck had a working railgun with multi-shot capability and Louis was still armed and mobile. I looked at the next building. It was a lower than this one and had a thin roof. I hoped it would hold my weight. I took a few steps back then leapt over the edge, seeing the truck roll past the alley as I did. They saw me too.

Hitting the metal roof, I ran as quickly as I could. The metal roofing was slippery to my footing and I scrabbled for grip against the corrugations. Each step deformed the roof, but it held. As I ran I sensed the shockwave of the railgun as it ripped straight through the building, blowing a huge hole out behind me. Fire fountained from the hole as I glanced back.

“If they hit us with that, we won’t survive,” Laura cautioned, her voice tinged with anger.

What was she thinking now that I had blown our chance to end this? Now that I couldn’t even do what she had asked?

“I’ll keep than in mind,” I said, trying to think of a new strategy as I ran from the building, smoke billowing from the freshly damaged sections behind me. Several more pyretic fountains appeared with each slug they fired after me.

I took advantage of the similar height rooftops and made my way across several buildings to put some distance between me and the weapon. The street here was straight and led directly to the facility gate where the Arilssman campus ended. Beyond that was an armored gate and then industrial sector right up to the water. Lots of alleys and cover.

“Laura, I think they’re headed for the harbor. They probably have plans for a subaquatic extraction.”

It made sense and gave me a way to guess their route. At the end of the street, I saw a couple of vehicles drive past, reminding me that this had almost spilled out into public space. There was no police or military presence here yet. All at the main gate most likely, unaware of the logic behind leaving by a different route. If I was going to end it, I needed to do it quickly.

“Laura, can we transmit on public frequencies?” I asked, “Ones that aren’t likely to be easily triangulated?”

“This building has land-line intercepts. What would you like to do?” she asked as I dropped into a niche between a roof and a façade.

“Let the military and police know where these guys are headed and clear out the civilians,” I asked.

“Done,” said Laura, responding almost instantly.

“Already?” I asked, looking up and over the edge of the building as I moved from rooftop to rooftop.

As I did, I caught a glimpse of the road. Two buildings had a span between them to allow transit from one to the other above ground level. The truck needed to pass underneath it to make it to the exit. I leapt the final alley then found a skylight that didn’t look like it would hold my weight. I dropped through it and into what looked like it might have been a technical design office once with drafting boards covering the walls. Glass formed a solid rain around me for a moment, making streaks in my augmented vision.

“Laura, shut down ballistics tracking once more and set my systems to passive,” I asked.

There was no sensation of the service disappearing at first, but I knew it would make me harder to spot. Then my vision changed slightly as the augmentation struggled to cope with active systems going offline. Within the darkened room, I relied on image intensifiers to make use of the available light so I could find my way through the building to the overpass. I encountered several locked doors as I moved across the top floor but none proved too difficult to force my way through.

Some of the actuators in my limbs were making a lot of noise now. I could hear it clearly within the quiet building, even above the noise of the fires I left behind. I tried not to think about what that meant. Fire would limit my movement too if they continued to destroy buildings.

Approaching the overpass, I peered out of a window that would likely be opaque on the outside and saw the truck approaching, confirming my earlier guess. There was no sign of Louis’ Demon.

“Laura, can you track that vehicle for speed and provide me an estimate based on last known heading and velocity?” I asked.

A marker appeared in my augmented sight as I dropped back, sitting in the edge of my peripheral vision even when I turned away. It was only an estimate but Laura’s estimates were good and it let me know roughly where the truck was. I made my way to the overpass and waited out of sight. The overpass stretched out before me.

“Shouldn’t we wait closer to the middle?” Laura asked, realizing what I was planning.

“I don’t think so, watch,” I pointed out.

Moments later, the bottom of the overpass erupted upwards then burning particles sprayed out towards me as a foot-wide diameter hole opened in the roof. Glass shattered throughout the structure and began to fall, both inside and out as the shock wave moved through the span.

Then as the shock waves struck the buildings at each side and rebounded through the structure, concrete broke away. Within seconds, all that remained of the middle of the overpass was the rebar reinforcement. Laura gasped slightly at the unexpected result as I moved forward on my fingertips and toes into the dust cloud. I approached the edge of the overpass. Then in a single move, I looked through the huge hole as I jumped up and through the last still-intact window.

Laura screamed momentarily as we dropped three levels towards the road without jumpjets. Angels may be strong, but they aren’t immune to gravity. A three floor drop will still cause damage if I landed land badly and my real body was going to suffer the also.

I can still recall the look of surprise on one of the engineers face as I came down on both him and the railgun while he was changing the barrel. I don’t think he expected several hundred kilos of Archangel to come crashing down on him at that moment but then I probably wouldn’t have either. The impact threw us both from the truck and onto the road as I tried to extricate myself from the engineer’s remains and the damaged railgun which broke loose.

There was a short sharp squeal from the truck as they sped up to try and make a run for the gate. They were still well armed with plasma rifles and I felt the sting as several shots snapped into the Archangel’s thin armor. But there was a better chance at least the police could stop them now.

Pulling myself free, I was about to run off again into the buildings to look for Louis but as I came up, he was already there, running at me. Using his momentum, he kicked out at me, catching me directly in the chest. The force of the kick picked me up and drove me back into the building behind me, through a window. I grabbed a wall as I fell through, trying to steady myself as I stumbled then saw the slow-lob of a hyperbaric grenade coming from the direction of the truck. The air around it misted as it sprayed fuel into atmosphere then the flash was blinding as it exploded.

The shockwave picked me up and hurled me deeper into the building. Walls folded around me and I saw daylight appear around the edges of the upper level as it lifted off its foundations briefly. I hit something solid and spun wildly. I didn’t know which way was up or where I was. Then the building began to collapse, falling down around and on top of me even before I stopped moving.

When I came to rest, I tried to move but found that my arms and legs simply weren’t having an effect. The walls had come down on me and I was pinned by them. High velocity rounds pulverized ferrocrete structure around me as Louis fired into the building. I waited for the inevitable as he fired blindly but he must have lost track of where I came down.

Unable to lift the concrete panel, I scrambled to get back out but made little progress.

“Laura, I’m stuck,” I yelled. It truth I was in agony. Pain burned through my muscles and joints.

“You’re too badly damaged. Your systems are starting to shut down due to overload and crush damage. All you’re doing is providing your enemy an audio lock on your position.”

The ominous sound of autocannon fire cutting through the building and debris echoed loudly in the confined space. I waited for the final impact, the sensation of being ripped apart, but it wasn’t close enough to hurt me further.

“I won’t get out in time to stop him,” I yelled as my fingers, numb from desynchronisation, scratched against the hard floor.

The surface came loose, but to no avail. I tried to move my limbs but each attempt sent virtual agony through my mind as the suit translated real damage into pain. I waited for another burst of fire, but it didn’t come. Then I realized Louis hadn’t pressed his advantage and was attempting to escape.

“My sisters have arrived, The police are blocking the exit. Your foe’s Demon is badly damaged. You’ve done enough for now, mister Carlson. You can rest and wait for rescue,” Laura counseled.

Rachel. That meant Rachel was near. I had managed to slow Louis down, but I still hadn’t stopped him. Right now, I needed all the help I could get but even with one arm, Louis was still more than capable of killing Angels. Rachel was in danger. Laura was underestimating the danger someone like him still presented.

“You need to tell the police to target the Demon,” I shouted at Laura. As the wall on top of me shifted, the numbness turned to pain as the simulated feelings flooded back. I yelled as it overwhelmed me.

“They don’t have the firepower to target the Demon. I’m instructing them to stop the truck,” Laura said.

“Laura, tell the Angels to take whatever weapons they can find and open fire at Louis from a position of safety,” I yelled out.

If Louis escaped, he would come back again. Perhaps even find a way to complete his mission. Nothing mattered to him more than mission objectives. Nothing.

“They cannot take direct action against the Demon,” Laura snapped back, “He’s a human pilot.”

“But there’s no question that he needs to be stopped, why can’t they react?” I demanded.

“Because they can’t interfere in the affairs of men,” Laura said. “Angels may only take action to help people, but not to hurt them even if they are hurting others. It doesn’t matter if they’re real people or virtual people.”

“That’s stupid,” I cried out, screaming partly in pain as my leg came free, sending a new wave of agony directly into my nervous system. A large section of armor appeared crushed as it came out. I had no sensation there.

“But it’s what Angels are made for. We can’t change. That’s why they’re making the Archangels. Only Archangels can decide when a human life must be forfeit to protect another. Mister Carlson, you’re the only Archangel and you’re no longer capable of fighting. You need to stop moving before you bring the remaining building down, crushing us both.”

My other leg came free and the servo mechanisms whined in protest as I forced it to move. To me it felt as if my own bones were being broken with each step and I screamed out in agony. A huge explosion echoed through the building.

“We’re alright now, Mister Carlson, the truck has been stopped.”

“Laura, help me get out of here,” I cried.

“You need to wait for a rescue…” Laura said but I interrupted her.

“No, you need to listed. Louis never fails mission objectives. Until you take his Demon down, this isn’t going to end. I know him he’s not going to give up.”

An explosion not far from the building I was trapped in sent shock waves through the structure causing it to shift. The concrete around me lifted as it pivoted on something and I saw a glimpse of light. I crawled to towards it with my arms and dragged myself clear of the rubble.

The ground reflected a dark shade of orange as sunlight filtered through oily smoke that rose from several destroyed vehicles. Puffs of dust erupted from the buildings around me as random fire from the police forces overshot their targets. The different sounds of weaponsfire told me that the fight was in full swing now. Amidst the audio carnage came the regular thump-thump-thump of the autocannon on Louis’s demon as he cleared a path through the police trying to contain the situation.

My legs hurt too much to move, though I suspected they could still move a little if I forced them. Reaching hand-over-hand, I climbed myself up a street sign until I was standing. If they were real legs, it wouldn’t have been possible, but they weren’t my real legs. I made a mental note, even through the pain, to ask Peter sometime why he designed such accurate pain simulation into a machine.

“Oh my god, they’re breaking through. They still have Staci,” Laura’s sudden outburst told me I was right about Louis.

I wanted to yell back at her about the obviousness of the situation, but that wasn’t going to resolve it. Louis would do anything to complete the mission. Right now, he’d be clearing a path through the police so they could escape on foot. Angel minds weren’t very large. I suspected that it wouldn’t be too difficult to remove one and carry it away.

I tried to walk, but the pain shooting up my leg when I put my weight on it told me it was damaged beyond what was visible on the outside. This wasn’t Mindspace. It didn’t need to be that accurate for combat. There was no way to recalibrate the sensation out in the field.

“Laura, can you shut down my nervous system feedback?” I yelled.

“If I do that, you’ll experience synchronization issues,” she warned, “You’re already unstable with oxygen and you’re still in danger. You’ll lose all agility!”

“Just do it!” I yelled as I fell to my knees from the pain as I tried to take another step.

Then the pain vanished and I just went numb. It was just like having proprioception issues. Without the internal sensations, I had no idea where my limbs were. “Laura, can you compensate or translate? I need to move.”

A small amount of sensation came back, but it still felt like I wasn’t in my body. The legs were sluggish now, not at all like the legs I had worn as my own. Not even like Demon legs. They responded awkwardly as if being overdriven but at least I could move again. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard another voice as the sound of plasma rifles erupted, increasing in both volume and intensity. An explosion and light reflecting off the building around me. I moved towards where I could see the fighting.

“What’s that?” I asked, feeling overcome by the sudden burst of endorphins without the pain to drive against them.

“The police are trying to engage the Demon,” said Laura.

“The Voices?” I asked.

They increased in loudness until I heard them. Three female voices, two of which sounded vaguely familiar. The other I knew well. Rachel. She had arrived and taken command of the situation and was trying to direct the other Angels.

“Toni, watch out for that autocannon, it was far too close. Maria, try to retrieve those wounded officers near the gate,” I heard Rachel command. It wasn’t her broadcast voice, It was her real voice. The voice I had heard when she had been in human form in Mindspace.

Another huge explosion, sounding almost surreal now that my senses were dampened. My body moved clumsily as though I wasn’t controlling it. Laura must have been interceding, compensating for my loss of kinesthesia and proprioception and who knows how much synchronization.

“Two more officers just went down from direct fire. There’s a special weapons team coming in but they’re still several minutes away,” came a response from one of Rachel’s sisters.

I stepped fully out of the debris into what looked like a warzone. It had been only a minute since I was trapped but the police had responded and were being cut down by the Demon’s firepower. A glint of metal shot past the gate and pulled a wounded officer out of harm’s way. I knew in a heartbeat who it was.

“Rachel?” I called out, not realizing I was broadcasting on the Angels channels.

“Jon?” Rachel’s voice sounded confused, then took on a hard edge.

“Laura, oh my god, please tell me you haven’t done what I think you’ve done,” she screamed.

“He was the only one who could help us,” Laura said, her own voice sounding pained now.

“Jon are you all right?” Rachel yelled.

“He’s injured but alive,” said Laura, answering for me.

“Laura, get him away from there now,” Rachel called, then I heard an inhuman shriek from outside as autocannon fire played out its bass melody.

Something silver and vaguely humanoid fell from a still-expanding cloud of smoke, limbs sprawling. It hit the ground hard and rolled, ungainly, until it impacted a bollard and lay still.

“Toni’s hit, Toni’s hit,” came the other voice, which must have been Maria.

“Laura, get Jon out of there now, Maria, get to cover. I’m going after Toni,” Rachel commanded.

Walking out from an alley came Louis’ Demon. Stepping into the open, the autocannon flashed three more times, followed by the sound of a car crashing. Light weapon fire glanced off its heavy armor. Louis adjusted his position until he had clear aim at the fallen Angel then he moved behind an overturned vehicle and held his fire. It was a trap. I knew what he intended to do next and who he intended to take down.

“Rachel, don’t,” I screamed.

Somehow I knew she wouldn’t listed to me, even knowing what was likely to come next. She was going to try and rescue her sister.

Ignoring the numb sensation all over my body I began running, oblivious to the fighting going on about me. I was high on the endorphins and my rage had had time to build. I ran blindly at Louis’ Demon as the Archangel servo motors screamed in a voice of their own. Louis was firing at police now, never straying so far that he couldn’t see the downed Angel. Each short, controller burst dropped a new victim to the ground.

I ran past the damaged transport that the mercenaries had stolen, the nodes themselves loose and scattered on the road at the side. Past the mercenaries who were disconnecting the Angel minds from some of the nodes. None of it mattered to me at the moment while there was danger to the person who had become most important to me.

Louis was waiting still for Rachel even as he fired several shots into the unmoving Angel. Was he trying to taunt a reaction? Rachel was fast, agile and nimble but Louis was quicker with his autocannon. I’ve even seen him shoot an artillery shell from its trajectory. She didn’t stand a chance.

She appeared at the edge of my vision as she made her approach towards her dying sister.

“Laura, public address, now!” I yelled as I sprinted on mechanical limbs that were failing. Like my legs were made of splintering wood.

I could hear my own labored breathing as I bore down on Louis. The pain and frustration of the past months coming back to me, giving me the will to drive forward even as my servo motors shrieked in electronic agony.

“Louis, you bastard, I’m taking you down.”

He must have heard me because he turned then to look just as I collided with him. The impact reverberated through the chassis as though I had hit a solid wall. The two chassis fell, tumbling and clinging together hard to the ground, rolling with the impact. When we came to a stop, Louis was on top of me and had his public address system on too. He was shouting into my face. My re-appearance must have unsettled his sense of reality because he just started pounding my chassis in the face instead of attacking the core.

“Why are you so fucking hard to kill? I should have killed you twice already you dumb fuck,” he screamed as he used his remaining hand to punch me.

The autocannon wasn’t too far away but he seemed oblivious to it. My face was numb anyway, my nervous system already shut down. I still sensed, almost remotely, the damage as the side of the Archangel skull collapsed, the video feed breaking first from one eye. Laura screamed then and went offline. Louis managed to strike me twice more as I tried to deflect the blows.

“You fucking betrayed me, you betrayed us all. It was a fucking simulation and you went crazy. They threw your fucking sorry ass out of the unit and out of the military and still you seem to keep coming back, fucking up my life.”

He retracted his fist and pushed my head backwards. His killing blow. It was like we were just humans now. Two people brawling in public. My mind was reeling from disorientation. Desynchronisation had already begun. Now that Laura wasn’t in control, the pain came back fully, tearing into my mind.

“Just fucking die!” he screamed as the fist shot towards my throat.

I lifted my palm and caught it, the servos in my own chassis crying in protest as I did so. At first he just yelled but then he started to scream in pain making me realize he was feeling feedback from his suit too. Demon neural responses are numbed down, so this new chassis must have needed a lot more feedback than usual to operate. That meant that it could be used against him too. I continued to squeeze, my own servo motors overloading as they crushed the Chinese Demon’s hand.

“You betrayed humanity,” I yelled as I crushed it completely. Louis pulled the Demon’s arm almost free, ripping the remaining limb apart as alloy Demon-bones twisted and snapped under stress. My own suit’s hand was damaged too. When I tried to release the crushed fist, the hand failed, locking me to Louis.

Sitting up as he lifted his other ruined hand before him, I twisted a leg around Louis’s head and snapped him back into the ground, hard enough to jolt his real body. Leaning to my good side I moved out from under him and managed to stand. Louis got to his feet first, pulling me off balance, our hands still locked together like the vibraknife fights in the hypervids.

He wasn’t going to be that easy to defeat and even with two missing hands he managed to get his Demon back up. It was over for him now. Without the hands, he couldn’t operate a weapon and wasn’t able to defend himself against the police.

“You can’t just fucking stay away can you?” he screamed.

“I guess losers tend to stay together,” I said, staggering. The Archangel was barely under my control now. All of my servos were overworked and I could see wisps of smoke coming from the suit. Laura didn’t seem to be online at all now and it was difficult to control.

“Laura?” I called to her as I stood before Louis.

There was no response, my voice only broadcast this time. She wasn’t there anymore. Louis turned his head sideways to look at the broken Angel on the ground. Rachel was there now, lifting her gently. It was then that I noticed that I couldn’t hear the other Angels speaking to each other or me anymore. Rachel was looking at me, desperation in her eyes. Desperation for what?

“Is that the Angel bitch name?” Louis asked.

With that took two steps sideways, moving past me. His foot came down hard on Toni’s leg, pushing her back to the ground. Rachel looked up at him angrily, her face wearing more rage than I think I’ve ever seen her show. I reached over and just shoved him off, pushing him back.

“It’s over,” I said, “Just surrender.”

Louis’s demon looked around. Several police with heavy plasma rifles were closing in now. The gunfire near the truck was slowing. He was without weapons and without any way to fire them even if he found one. Then I’m sure I saw Louis’ Demon smirk even though it didn’t have anything close to a face.

“You think your last overload was good? You should see what a hundred megawatt reactor can do,” Louis threatened, then a strobe began to flash on his shoulder.

“See you in hell,” Louis goaded.

I reached over my shoulder with my remaining working hand and grabbed the only weapon I had left. Closing my hand around the handle, I hefted the rescue axe from its fitting and swung it hard. The cutting edge was designed for rescue work, for cutting into armored doors and equipment. The charges went off on impact, driving the blade deep into Louis’ chassis.

There was a violent spark as high-powered superconductors shorted out and the magnetic pulse it generated shift both our chassis. Then with the containment field breached, super-hot plasma boiled out, engulfing both. Unleashed, it had no trouble burning it’s way out of the crippled chassis, some of it washing over me as the final obstacle between it and the open atmosphere. I just stood there, joined to him by the handle of the axe, unable to move. It singed my metal skin and for a moment it felt like I was on fire. Louis only managed a brief scream before the plasma ate its way into the tiny cockpit.

In less than a second, gas as hot as the sun burned through his skin and incinerated his outer body. As the Demon’s cockpit seals burst apart I saw his human body trying to climb out before the plasma fire reduced his face to a glowing skeletal mask. Then he fell dead on the chassis as the last of the plasma vented around him.

“You can go to hell by yourself,” I said, then I let the axe go.

My mangled fingers broke loose and Louis’s Demon toppled without neurological control to keep it balanced. I tried to step back, but the pilotable archangel suit stopped responding. The plasma bath must have been the last straw. I felt the hatches opening as it went into its own emergency shutdown and pain flooded my body as my consciousness returned to it.

Rachel dropped her fallen sister and darted forward to catch me before I hit the ground, my head only barely brushing the concrete road as it swung back. Her arms were around me. Laura had warned that I would suffer full proprioceptive loss, but the agony coursing through my body from my injuries told me I had returned fully synchronized.

Oxygen imbalance can cause that too. Of all the times to finally get a lucky break there, this was the one time I would have welcomed full paralysis. The air around me burned and I felt my skin sizzle as it touched the hot metal of the Archangel suit before Rachel lifted me away. My body was still pumping the endorphins into me as the special weapons police moved in on the now surrendering engineers.

I managed to get my feet under me and stand, weakened in the bloodstained pilots-suit by the loss of fluids and gasping for air with lungs that had been breathing pure oxygen. Now all they could find was smoke-filled air.

“Laura?” I managed to say between coughs.

Rachel nodded in a way that told me she was still all right. At least I wanted to believe that.

“And Staci?” I gasped.

Rachel nodded in the same way once more.

She helped me to a wall where I was able to lean while she started looking for the source of the blood.

“A round got through the armor,” I said, struggling not to fall over.

It should have coagulated with the chemicals in the suit by now. Rachel came back up in front of my face, the blue coolant that must have sprayed from the ruptured Demon starting to condense on her face. The fighting had ended now. The Mind nodes were safe and I had finally stopped Louis.

I turned my head and watched a special weapons officer walk up to an engineer. He looked around, then placed a spread-fire weapon against the surrendered engineers face and pushed it back to the ground.

“This is for Julius,” he said, then the engineer’s face exploded in a mist of blood and brain matter.

“Hey,” I screamed out from the back, “They’ve surrendered.”

He ignored me. I dragged myself to my feet and made my way unsteadily to where the engineers were lined up. The same officer was about to execute another engineer. Almost fainting from the effort, I leaned down and hooked a plasma rifle sash from a fallen officer with my fingertips. It felt heavy. Much heavier than it should. I hobbled over as the officer lined his weapon up against the next engineer’s head. I recognized him. It was Robert. He was begging for his life. I don’t think he even knew I was there. Memories of the torture he put me through began running through my head. I wanted to see him dead. I wanted to see him suffer. But I wasn’t about to stand by and watch while another war crime was committed.

I armed the plasma rifle which made an audible sound. The officer heard the noise and turned in time to see the barrel lined up with his eye.

Robert recognized me now.

“For god’s sake, Jon, I’ve surrendered. You have to protect me,” Robert screamed, panicking. His pleading only tested my resolve. I don’t think he realized just how much I hated him.

“You pull that trigger and I’m going to do the same to you,” I warned the officer.

The officer looked me up and down, still calm, then looked to each of the other police around him. They all had their weapons pointed at me now. Rachel was behind me, her back to mine as she spread her arms. As though it might stop that many rounds from hitting me. Robert just knelt there, his back against the damaged truck, his body visibly shaking.

“They just killed half my squad. Do you really want to save these people?” the officer calmly asked me.

“No, but you’re not going to just slaughter them either,” I warned.

Somewhere, in a part of my mind that was removed from the action, I wondered if I was just doing this to make up for my lack of action another time. Even so, the irony of the situation wasn’t lost on me.

“They’re going to die anyway. If I don’t kill them now, you can’t protect them forever. They’ve made too many enemies,” he said.

The barrel shifted around as my arms shook but I kept the rifle aimed as the officer pushed his own rifle in further, pushing Robert back until his head stopped on the truck. I could hear his head rattling the fiberpanel.

“You’re not going to kill a defenseless person while I’m, around,” I warned, my finger taking up the slack.

I almost gasped each word as my lungs struggled for air. The officer shrugged, then moved his rifle away from Robert who, falling forwards onto his knees, started to cry. I nodded, then stepped back and started to hobble away. He wasn’t going to shoot anyone else now, his nerve broken and his rage dissipating.

It was over for me. Objective complete. Rachel put a hand under my arm as I began to collapse. I only got a few steps away when I heard the commotion. The remaining engineers must have been terrified they would be executed as soon as I wasn’t around and began to fight back. I saw an officer and a prisoner struggling with a weapon out of the corner of my eye. I only barely caught the blue flash of the plasma as it discharged in my direction, then the officer knocked him out with his elbow.

Three solid punches landed in my midsection and I felt the shock echo through my body. I staggered sideways, not feeling the pain from it at all, wondering if I had really been hit even as I started to fall. The sounds of shooting and fighting echoed faintly in my ears before the impact of the ground brought it all back.

Then I felt hands on me, turning me over, lifting me. It was Rachel. She pulled me onto her knees as she held me there. She was close. I could see her eyes. They looked beautiful even if there was a panicked expression on her delicate features. Her skin was tinged red and blue, covered in both blood and coolant. My blood I assume.

I started to feel cold, already low on blood and understanding that this final injury was going to kill me. My legs lost sensation as if I had just come out of a bad connection to Mindspace and the pain from my other injuries, started to lose its edge. The air in my lungs burned with each breath and my heart pounded as it pushed my remaining blood out of my body. I felt tired and wanted to sleep. Rachel kept pulling my face towards hers, her fingers still gentle. My mind wondered and I think I started to hallucinate. Jeremy and Peter stood over Rachel, looking down at me, but my sight was fading as the world disappeared into a tunnel. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew the reason was that my eyes were losing oxygen.

Rachel started to keen with a sound like screaming as her servo’s fought against each other. She began to shake as she held me, her legs trembling. The coolant vapor and blood that had condensed onto her face didn’t mix. They did however collect into drops around her delicate eyes and started to run forming blue and red tears that ran down her cheek and collected under her titanium chin. Each left a stain that showed the path it had taken.

She grasped at me and lifted my hand. Her fingers closed through mine, more gently than I could imagine. I didn’t need to hear her words to know she was hurting too. I think then I finally realized that you don’t have to be human to love someone. And you don’t have to be human to be worthy of being loved. Somewhere in the background, I could just make out a fading conversation between Peter and Jeremy.

“You need to do something,” Peter screamed at Jeremy.

“I can’t do anything, he’s going to die,” Jeremy said.

“You wanted my lie, you got my lie. I gave you what you wanted, you have to give me this,” Peter was still yelling.

“What do you want me to do?” said Jeremy, but his voice was fading.

“I love you,” was all I wanted to say to Rachel.

At least the first two words came out somewhat audibly. Then she was gone and I was floating in blackness.

* * * *

Chapter 21 - Transcendence

I never got to tell Rachel that I loved her before I died. I don’t blame myself for that. I don’t think I realized it myself before that moment. It’s difficult to understand that someone so different from yourself, as artificial as she was, can be real. Truly real. Even if it’s not in a way that I understood.

At least she was there at the end, although that was just my selfishness. It was probably harder for her that way. Now I was beyond telling her what I still needed to. Far beyond the world I came from now and there was no way back. Still, I expected the end to be a little less sudden. It felt like I still had time to tell her how I felt right up until I tried and failed.

I hope she understood.

“Mister Carlson?” came a voice, soft and quiet.

Staci’s voice. It sounded different now, no emotion or hint of her age.

“Oh no, please don’t tell me you’re here too.”

“You’re badly damaged and they’re still trying to fix you up in Heaven,” she said.

“Staci, I’m so sorry. I did my best to save you, to stop them.” I called out, but there was no reply at first.

Then after a time, she came back and said, “Thank you for what you did. You know what to do next, don’t you?”

“No,” I screamed out of frustration, “No I don’t.”

“When you see the light, you need to move towards it. That’s very important now, or you won’t come together in Heaven.”

“Staci,” I yelled out.

There was no response.

“Staci, I need you to tell Rachel that I love her,” I screamed, but there was nowhere for my sound to go.

“I’m sorry, Mister Carlson, but that’s just not possible,” she said.

Then as her voice faded away her last words echo through the nothingness.

“Besides, I believe she already knows.”

I don’t know how long I shouted at the emptiness but Staci’s prediction about a light was correct. At first I wanted to run, to flee from it and find a way back, some way to get back to Rachel. But there was nowhere to go. So I moved towards the light.

#

“Jon, are you there? Can you hear me?” it was Peter. It felt like I had spoken to him just a moment ago for some reason.

“Jon, hang in there, I’m here for you all right? You just need to wait a while,” he yelled at me.

Light flooded my vision and I tried to twist my head to avoid the glare but it didn’t turn.

“You’re still suffering a loss of proprioceptive response so don’t try to move,” he said.

Then I saw him to one side as my eyes began to focus, albeit poorly.

I was in a clean room that looked familiar. Above my head was a wide lamp, not like the operating theatre lamps but like the lamps engineers use.

Recognition slowly dawned on me and I saw the walls covered with titanium panels and actuators, almost like you would see in a Demon workshop, but much smaller. The place looked like it had never been touched by weaponfire, not like the one I was familiar with.

Had they managed to save me? Was I still alive?

“The tests suggested you have a five-nines recovery,” said Jeremy from somewhere out of sight, “But I hear Henry’s pissed at the cost.”

“It was worth it,” said Peter.

“You better be right about that,” Jeremy warned, but his resolve sounded weak.

“If I can’t have him, you can’t have the others,” Peter threatened.

I tried to ask where I was, even though I knew, since my mind was still too foggy to focus. I saw a hand come down over my eyes.

“Let go,” said Peter, “You don’t need to hold on any more. You can rest now.”

But I couldn’t stop trying. The world dissolved around me and I found myself in a small oasis of life amid a desert of nothingness.

* * * *

Chapter 22 - Afterlife

How long have I been sitting here? A day? A week? I can’t seem to make sense of the passing time anymore. I don’t eat and I don’t sleep, my only thoughts of Rachel and what might have been.

The soft thud of a footfall alerted me to a presence and I turned to see Peter standing there. It’s strange that the first question that came to my mind was the one I cared about least.

“Is this real, any of it?” I asked.

Peter looked around at the pool by the oasis and the trees around it.

“No, none of it, why?”

“Mindspace?”

“No, just what’s in your own head,” he said, pushing a small tree banch aside to come over and sit by me.

“Am I dead?” I asked, looking back at the pool.

I was glad for his presence. If this was the afterlife, I was lonely. Peter looked at me quizzically for a moment then started to laugh quietly.

“Why is that funny?”

“Because I thought you might have figured it out,” he said, “Especially when you kept coming out of it. Everytime we turned the lights on to work on you, you woke up.”

“The light,” I said, “I kept on walking towards it.”

“Eh, well, whatever it was, it was helpful. We were able to find everything we needed,” he said.

“So I survived then?” I asked.

Peter looked at me with sad eyes.

“Jon, they really did kill you. Do you remember any of it?

“I still recall it like it was just yesterday.

Peter winced and looked away.

“You were just laying there, Jon. Rachel’s servos were screaming like I’ve never heard before and didn’t even know was possible. Then you just died before we could save you. There wasn’t anything we could have done in time.”

“So what’s happening? If I’m really dead then I don’t understand why you’re here.”

Peter looked away and rubbed his chin.

“Hmm, where to start?” he asked, more of himself than of me.

I remembered something from my death.

“What did you lie about?” I asked.

“What?”

“You really were there with Jeremy at the end weren’t you,” I said.

Peter nodded.

“And you knew each other didn’t you?” I added as a question.

“Yes, I’ve known Jeremy for nearly twenty years,” Peter said.

The timeframe surprised me.

“He never said anything,” I said, surprised at Jeremy’s deception.

“Well, he wouldn’t have,” said Peter, picking up a stone and throwing it. I watched as ripples spread away from where it plunged into the once-still waters of the pool.

“So what was the lie?” I asked again.

Peter looked confused now.

“I don’t get what you mean.”

“Your lie, you told Jeremy he asked you to lie.”

“My lie?” Peter said, then he smiled, “Yes, My Lai.”

He looked me in the eye now.

“Jon, I never lied to you, but I did mislead you. I apologize for that, but it was necessary. Now, to answer your question, My Lai was a place. A village in a country called Vietnam that was subsumed by the Asian Union more than a hundred years ago. It was the scene of a massacre by the early US armed forces of a village of civilians, suspected of helping the enemy. Women and children were herded into holes and ditches and shot at point-blank range by soldiers. It was a terrible thing.”

The ripples were still bouncing around the pool, reflected inwards as they reached the edge.

“Why is that important?” I asked.

Peter took in a deep breath through his nose.

“Because before they killed everyone in the village, a helicopter gunship…”

Peter made a swooping gesture with his hand as he looked at me to see if I understood before continuing. I knew what a gunship was.

“Landed between the soldiers and the remaining civilians. They were part of our army as well, but they turned their weapons on our own soldiers and made threat to open fire if they continued the massacre. I won’t go into the whole story, because the way it turned out was unfortunate. But My Lai set an example for the past few centuries that showed some people are able to rise above others in times of war. To do what is right and not just follow the orders they have been given or the path shown to them by commanding officers.

“Twenty five years ago we tried to undo the damage of the Siberian Conflict. For the first time, we had artificial intelligence capable of dealing with threats that technology is causing. The problem is that no-one trusts autonomous devices since Siberia. Project Archangel was supposed to correct that but it was an utter disaster. You see, the Asimov Committee set the My Lai precedent as a benchmark. If we wanted to arm autonomous devices and give them the capability to kill humans, first we had to prove we could make them avoid hurting innocent people no matter the circumstances.

“Then we had to prove we could create artificial intelligence that was capable of taking a human life, yet was able to rise above factional beliefs or to go against it’s instructions if necessary. To demonstrate a capacity for humanity. An artificial mind that was more human than most humans.

“The Angel project was almost a complete success. We demonstrated that an AI could be trusted to avoid taking human life at any cost, but out of one hundred candidates for the Archangel project, every single one was a failure. Each failed to take action against their own when tested. It looked like we weren’t going to be able to meet the criteria for the project until someone noticed that the traits we were looking for were being demonstrated by other second or third level simulations within each node. We realized that other AIs in Heaven might be able to meet the standard,” he explained.

“Like your own wife,” I said.

Peter smiled.

“Yes, she’s redefined everything I believed about AIs, although I seriously didn’t expect her to steal an Archangel piloted prototype and find herself a pilot. I really should apologize to you for that, but I want to thank you for saving both Staci and Laura’s life as well.”

I was glad to hear they were both all right.

“I had my own motivations also,” I said.

“I’m still appreciative for it,” Peter said.

“How is Rachel?” I asked.

“Having trouble coping with your death since she doesn’t know what’s going on. Staci knows, but has been removed from the other Angel’s presence and is both grounded and banned from communicating with them until this is resolved one way or another,” Peter said.

“But generally, Rachel’s having a rough time at the moment and it breaks my heart to see her this way,” he added.

I sat for a moment in silence, waiting for the lump in my throat to subside.

“What did you think of the Archangel chassis, coming at is as a Demon pilot, Jon?” asked Peter.

“It was impressive,” I said.

“You took on five advanced Demons and one prototype next-generation Demon single-handed without heavy weapons,” said Peter.

“I still failed,” I said.

“No, you succeeded. The engineer you saved is alive after medical intervention. I only wish real situations ended this well. Two pilots captured, though one was killed by security forces. Beaten to death in his cell,” Peter said.

“If you give someone a weapon and control over a prisoners life without having to answer for it, that tends to happen.” I said, “People just get beaten to death and no one ever questions it.”

“Yes, it does. Maybe that’s why the Asimov Committee chose My Lai for their evolved turing test. They said morals weren’t enough and we needed a functional test for humanity. Perhaps we should make humans take it as well,” Peter mused.

“Did she pass the test?” I asked.

“Staci?” Peter asked, confused.

I nodded.

“You were there,” Peter said.

“They’re testing her subsequently aren’t they?” I said.

Peter’s silence answered that question for me as he picked up another stone.

I looked back towards the pool as I wondered about it. The ripples had stopped now, but the stone never came.

“I’m sorry you went though what you did and I can see that you’re still a little disoriented. If you haven’t figured it all out yet, I’m sure you will. Just remember that Heaven is as real to an Angel as reality is to a human.”

When I looked back, he was gone.

#

I wasn’t expecting to see the light again but when it came, it was in the middle of the pool. I put down the dates I had been eating and waded out towards it, then found my world dissolving to be replaced by another. I was back in the real world once again, laying back in a cot.

“How do you feel?” An almost familiar voice said from the side.

I twisted my head and saw Jeremy standing there. He looked much older than I remembered and I wondered how much time had passed. It took me a moment to remember that he had asked me a question.

“Like I’ve just woken up from a nightmare,” I said.

It didn’t feel like my own voice. It didn’t sound like my own voice either. If I hadn’t spoken the words, I don’t think I would have believed they were mine.

“It can feel like that,” he said, “But you’re fully synchronized it seems, so it’s time for me to leave and for you to make a decision.”

I lifted my hand to touch my chin, but when my hand came up, it was covered in metal. I checked my other hand and it was the same. Fear rose in my chest. What had they done to me?

“What’s this?” I asked. “Am I still inside the prototype?”

“No,” said Jeremy, “But you are the first?”

“First what?” I asked.

“Adaptive Response, Combat Hierarchy, Autonomous Non-Genetic Engineered Lifeform,” said Jeremy.

I lifted my head forward and looked down at my body, wondering if I really was inside a nightmare. Realizing I was unbound and had full movement, I flipped my feet over the edge of the cot and stood up.

Jeremy offered a mirror out to me but it was already clear this wasn’t my body. It was the body of an Angel, or more specifically, an Archangel. It was almost like the one I had piloted, though smaller and more human shaped. About the same height and shape as my own body. I took the mirror and looked at my own face. What looked back at me was essentially a masculine version of the chassis that Rachel inhabited. I felt my weight shift as my knees went week. The edge of the cot slipped and I gripped it tighter.

“Be careful, you’re not as weak as you used to be,” he said. I looked down and saw that I had crushed the edge tubing of the cot with my grip.

“Am I dreaming this?” I asked.

“No, this is as real as anything that has ever happened to you – possibly more so,” Jeremy said.

“How did this happen?” I asked, struggling to understand what was going on.

Had they found a way to put a human brain inside an Archangel? Was I some kind of freak cyborg now, my own body destroyed and my mind trapped within a machine? My mind alternated between the fascination and horror of what was happening.

“You tell me?” Jeremy challenged.

The events of the past weeks came back to me.

All of the Angels I mad met had one thing in common. At some point, they didn’t realize what it was that they were and believed they were something else. Each had passed a test and then found their destiny lay in a different direction. But other than Laura, not one of them realized they weren’t human until they were told.

“I’m not human, am I?” I said, realizing the truth for the first time.

“You’re more human than most people I’ve ever met,” said Jeremy, “But you’re not genetic and you never were.”

I stood back, not quite sure what to say, so Jeremy continued.

“Your entire life has been lived within one of the MIND nodes. You started out as a support AI for a Demon pilot team that was to provide the simulated atrocities that the original candidates for the Archangel project were supposed to stop. That’s what Heaven was developed for. Heaven was created as a simulation to mirror events that happen in the real world and provide us information on how people react to them.”

I moved the mirror around me. My body felt entirely normal except I could see that it was anything but normal.

“We can change history very slightly in Heaven, but it’s pretty close to what we have in reality. The military you served with in Heaven was every bit as screwed up as our own. They commit the same crimes and make the same mistakes, only with AIs. We need a new combat chassis that can operate autonomously without requiring orders. I can’t tell you yet why that’s necessary, but it created a problem for us because we didn’t know how to determine which autonomous AIs could be trusted.”

I fell back against the bed as Jeremy continued.

“That’s a serious issue because the new chassis have weapons so advanced that we don’t even trust people with them. A quarter of a century ago, we began this simulation hoping to develop AIs that could pass the evolved Turing test. That’s where HEAVEN came from and why MINDspace was created.

“One hundred and thirty nodes were created in total. That covered research nodes, spare nodes and candidate nodes. I believe Peter showed you around Heaven’s own Heaven which links the virtual with the real. Each of those nodes contains a candidate simulation and an alpha-level simulation of everyone important that they interact with, many grown from infancy and tweaked for additional realism as they came into contact with the candidate simulation.

“You began your life as an alpha-class simulation to support the candidate AI, a level nine special officer attached to your Demon unit. We were hoping he would take action to end the wargame simulation and bring your team up on charges. At the same time, we gave him a reason to turn a blind eye so the choice wasn’t an easy one for him. But he, like every other candidate, chose the wrong path and as you know the girl was murdered. Yes, she was just as real as you are and no, we didn’t set that up. We wrote off that particular candidate, but we didn’t expect the continued simulation to identify a new selection. Of your own free will, you turned against your own team, against those you fought with, then tried to bring them to justice.

“You failed of course, but that’s only to be expected. Then you continued to demonstrate what we were looking for and Arilssman applied to have your simulation upgraded to full candidate replacement. We accepted.”

We accepted? Who was Jeremy? Had my entire life been a lie?

“Was Rachel just a part of this?” I asked.

Jeremy shook his head softly.

“Rachel was unexpected. She was spending time in Heaven while her chassis was being serviced after a turbine failure. Like most Angels, she doesn’t really differentiate between Heaven and Reality since an Angel can die in both of them. We didn’t expect her to fall in love with you. That was completely unanticipated and to be truthful, we didn’t think it was even possible. We eventually had to ban her from contacting you because we thought it might interfere with the Evolved Turing test you were being evaluated under. Even when she was with you, she had no idea you had been selected as an Archangel candidate.

“We extended out your testing to see what would happen. We knew you had a humanitarian streak even if you were a soldier, but we didn’t know how deep it went or how reliable you were. It was necessary to observe you over a period of time. Had you continued, you would have been offered a position as test-pilot at Arilssman which we believe you would have accepted. From there, we would have set up the conditions to allow you to take the evolved turing test and an opportunity then to learn your true identity and accept a position with the Archangels.

“But the events which led to the Arilssman attack were misunderstood by another advanced AI that Arilssman has been working on and you were drawn into the conflict.”

I realized as he continued that he was talking about Laura.

“Unfortunately, you died before we could complete the test, so after observing your final actions prior to your death we reviewed your entire campaign. Through that we determined that your behavior demonstrated sufficiently that you would have passed the test. We stopped your clock and agreed to your recovery from early stages of simulated brain-death for the purpose of allowing you to receive an offer.”

Jeremy put his hands together then and winced slightly.

“And I really am sorry about the death. The Mindspace nodes simulated your death too completely and we nearly didn’t recover your data.”

Then he smiled gently.

“But I’m honored to welcome you to the real world for the first time and offer you a position in the UN with the other Angels.”

I sat back against the cot until it stopped against the wall. My mind was a sea of confused thoughts and questions, all struggling to come to the surface.

“There aren’t any other Archangels at present, just yourself. The Angels, some of whom I believe you’ve met, do exist in this world and wish to accept you as one of their own.”

“Rachel knows I’m here?” I asked.

Jeremy shook his head.

“Rachel has no idea that you’re the Archangel we’ve chosen as the first. None of them do.”

I felt like my life had just been turned upside down.

“I’m having trouble with all of this,” I said.

Jeremy nodded, then stood back.

“I’ll give you some time to consider it then. I know that you’ve been confined to your own MIND node for a while so you’ve had a chance to think since your untimely demise. We used to break it to AIs gently, that their entire life was just simulated up to this point, but now we know better. It’s easier to just come out with the truth and let you deal with it.”

He stepped towards the door.

“Take as much time as you like. You’re free to wander the facility if you wish but please don’t leave the grounds. We haven’t issued a press release yet and I recall that you’re not terribly fond of publicity.”

Jeremy turned and walked through the door, which opened automatically. He paused in the exit for a moment and looked over his shoulder. His weight shifted slightly and I realized he was limping too.

“Don’t doubt your reality, Jonathan Carlson. This is as real as you want it to be and so are you. If you choose not to accept, I can send you back to MIND again and you’ll just carry on in a different capacity. We’ll find you a new job and you can go back to being human or at least to believing it. It won’t ever be quite the same, but I’m sure you’ll cope with the return to the way things were if you don’t like the way things are. For what it’s worth, I consider you my friend and hope you still consider me yours,” he said.

Then he left. After he had walked out, the door stayed open rather than closing again. It seemed to highlight that I had a choice, that I wasn’t simply a prisoner. But then I really hadn’t quite come to terms with what I was.

* * * *

Chapter 23 - Resurrection

I wandered from the room I was reborn in, walking slowly as I moved along the passageway. Unlike the Arilssman facility inside my world, this one was packed with scientists and support staff. Even if I ignored the extra activity, the sudden flood of detail to my eyes left me wondering if this was all real. The floor had too many scuff marks while the steel rails were all scratched and pitted.

The walls here were rough and worn while other sections seemed new and out of place with the rest of the facility. But there was no damage here – It looked and appeared just as it had when I first came here, or then was it here that I really was?

Things looked similar but somehow different as though the world I came from was a sub-standard facsimile of this world. There were lots of people here too and no matter where I went, there were always eyes on me. Support staff looked up at me as I walked past and stared until I was gone. I wondered how the Angels all coped with the constant stares.

I felt myself running, at first because I didn’t want to face what was happening, then because I found I could run so effortlessly. I slowed only enough to open the exit door before sprinting outside onto the grass past several scientists who, as a group, turned as one to follow me.

Then I stopped when I reached the lake where I had seen, in my world at least, an Angel bank low enough to dip her fingers as she dodged fire from a ST42. This one wasn’t all ripped up by Autocanon fire.

But this wasn’t the same lake or the same garden. It wasn’t my world at all. I wanted to run, to go back to my apartment or the office to see if any if it existed, to find some anchor to this reality. I needed to see again what I really was, what I had become. I fell to my knees and examined my reflection. A scream of frustration worked its way up but when I tried to open my mouth, no sound came out.

Archangels are as mute as Angels.

I wasn’t even sure who I was anymore and realized I was crying. I hadn’t cried for a long time, not even when they tortured me. Somehow everything I used to be didn’t matter anymore and no one would hear me anyway. It seems that Archangels can’t cry openly just like they can’t talk.

I sat with my head in my hands for a time, trying to think things through, to understand if I was really what I seemed to be. Trying to find evidence in my memory that everything I knew was always a lie.

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“Mister Carlson?” came a soft voice that I only heard inside my head.

I lifted my head slowly and saw an Angel, slightly smaller than I would have expected, shiny and new. Lines of pink seemed to highlight textured areas and she looked like she was smiling at me.

“Am I going crazy?” I asked.

“I hope not, because I really like you, Mister Carlson,” said the voice.

I looked a moment longer as I tried to work out which angel this was. Had I met her?

“You’re one of Rachel’s sisters?” I said, realizing then that I was sub-vocalizing the words, not actually saying them.

When I did it that way, I could hear my own voice. It was a pleasant reminder that not everything that used to be me had disappeared.

The Angel giggled in a way that surprised me then she sat down alongside, cross legged, on the grass.

“You should know, Mister Carlson, that she’s my Aunt,” said the voice that came without the movement of lips.

“Staci?” I asked.

“Do you like it?”

I hesitated, not sure what she was asking me.

“My new body, my father convinced them to let me have it when I’m not required elsewhere,” Staci said, “He moved me out of a virtual node and now I have my own physical node. He said it was too risky leaving me in a simulated node any longer.”

“It’s very pretty,” I said, unsure of what to say.

It must have been the right thing. She smiled.

“Thankyou,” She said, “I’ve been wanting to thank you for what you did for me. I don’t know what would have happened if they took me. Once the simulation is running they can’t stop it you know.”

I nodded. I was slowly learning the rules.

“I was worried about you,” I said.

Staci looked out over the lake and her expression changed to one that was unreadable.

“Mister Bale wasn’t a very nice man. I don’t think I would have enjoyed meeting him.”

“Was you in any danger?”

“I was virtual, Mister Carlson, so I could have died.”

I just nodded, not wanting to think about it. Saving Staci seemed to remind me of the girl I didn’t save. Only now I knew she had been just as real as I was, it seemed to bite deeper.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” Staci said to my silence.

I tried to think what she was referring to.

“What about?” I asked.

“You did become an Angel, Mister Carlson,” Staci said.

I thought about it for a moment.

“I didn’t realize, I had no idea.”

She looked sadly at me then, her face reflecting the way I felt.

“I know what you mean. You can still go back when you’re an Angel you know, it’s slightly different because the MIND node you came from will be recycled for another candidate but we can still go home now and then; and you’re still the same person, only it’s like being granted a special power.”

Staci seemed to want to talk about it too. Perhaps it was because we had both gone through learning of our true nature at the same time. She tried to tell me in the only words she could think of,

“That’s how I see it now, although a cried a little too,” she said.

I didn’t remember her crying. I remember her surprised, but then Rachel and I headed off upstairs and…

The memories of it came back to me. All of it. Right up until I died in her arms, my last words to her lost forever.

“Staci, when someone dies in a MIND node, what happens?” I asked.

“The simulation is very thorough, Mister Carlson,” said Staci, “It simulates death completely until all data is wiped from the mind. Daddy said you almost died past recovery when you were killed. Mother still feels bad about that, because you were only helping me. She blames herself that you nearly didn’t come back. I don’t think she meant to put you in that much danger.”

“There’s no way I would have let Louis take you, even if it killed me,” I said, reflecting on the irony of my own words.

Staci looked back at me and smiled a little at that.

“I’m sorry I had to keep it a secret from you too. And from Auntie Rachel. I was very worried that you would make the wrong decision or fail the test if I didn’t tell you, but if I did and got found out, then you would fail it anyway.”

“I understand. There must be a lot of things that Angels know that I can’t,” I said.

Staci shook her head.

“Actually, there’s no reason to keep secrets anymore now you’ve decided,” she said.

“Decided?” I asked.

“To stay an Angel,” Staci said.

“I haven’t decided,” I answered, looking back to the pond and noticing that the surface constantly rippled from the life inside of it.

“Oh, then I’ve probably said too much already,” she said, “I’ve been in a lot of trouble for that already. Daddy said they nearly refused to let me take this chassis.”

I looked over at her, then raised my finger to her lips, remembering the sign one of the other Angels had made to me. She looked up at me and smiled broadly since she knew what it meant. Then she changed expression.

“I’m still not allowed to speak to my Aunties,” said Staci, with a voice that sounded like she was pouting.

I smiled at the realization that even Angels could be grounded.

“They don’t know I’m here yet,” I said.

Staci’s neck snapped around.

“Not at all?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

“Then they don’t know it’s you?” Staci asked.

I shook my head gently.

“No, I don’t believe so,” I said.

Staci actually surprised me then when she jumped up, launching herself perhaps thirty feet into the air before I heard her turbine start and she continued up and away. Then she was gone and I was alone again.

I looked out onto the world that I had only just joined, thinking of what I had left behind. There really was nothing left for me to go back to. Jeremy was my only close friend now and it seems like he was already a part of this world. Peter was here as well, or at least likely to live between worlds.

And Rachel? I thought about it for a moment. This was Rachel’s world as much as it was mine. There was a sound of plasma jets and I heard someone come down behind me. Somewhere inside my head in the same way that Staci spoke to me, I heard another voice.

“Staci, what is it, you’re not supposed to tell us,” I heard it say.

I turned around and saw Staci dragging an Angel over towards me by the hand. It stopped briefly when it saw me sitting near the reeds that swayed by the water. Then it just seemed surprise as Staci let go.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that they first Archangel had been completed. My name’s Maria; I’m one of the Angels here. Did they tell you of us?” she asked.

Maria.

“I think we’ve met before,” I subvocalised to her.

“Oh my god,” Maria said, lifting her hand to cover her mouth.

She looked from me to Staci, who still wasn’t saying anything but was smiling with a rather satisfied expression, then back to me.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Maria repeated twice more then stepped back as if repulsed.

She turned and ran, her turbine screaming long before her plasma thruster cut in, blowing her straight across the Arilssman facility rooftop. I sat there stunned for a moment, then looked to Staci who just smiled.

“I want to show you something,” said Staci.

“Why did she just react that way?” I asked.

“You must still be disoriented,” Staci said.

“How do I follow her?” I asked, suddenly wanting to know where she was headed.

“I woudn’t recommend that,” Staci warned, “You won’t be very good at flying and it is quite dangerous. You can fall very easily and any height damage will still severely hurt you.”

I felt as though she was humoring me.

“Staci, I might be new to this world, but I’ve aerial dropped Demons before. Everything I’ve experienced in this world tells me it’s the same as the one I’ve come from.”

“Yeah, but it’s a lot different without an AI controlling the thrusters, so please don’t try it yet. If you like, I can take you through it later.”

I thought about it.

“So then you’re?” I started.

“Your Archangel Control Interface. There are others, but I want to be assigned to you when I’m old enough,” she said.

“To me?” I asked.

“Mister Carlson, I’m probably going to get in more trouble for telling you this, but did you know we’re at war with the Asian Union over deployment of autonomous AIs?” she asked me.

I shook my head.

“No, I didn’t know that,” I said.

“Well, that’s what Archangels are for. We’re needed to fight autonomous weapons and to stop them from killing innocent people. Every Archangel is a team. It’s both of us. That is if you’re OK with me being your interface.”

Staci looked down and toed the grass a little as she continued.

“And Auntie Rachel likes you so I don’t want to be assigned to anyone else.”

I looked at her then, remembering the Staci from inside Mindspace. From inside Laura’s server. I tried to imagine her being the support AI to a killing machine.

“Staci, I can’t do that, you’re only twelve years old,” I said.

She shook her head.

“You’re thinking in human terms. I’m an AI remember? And besides, the Archangel candidates won’t be shelled and ready for four more years. They still have Demons at the moment, but when they send in the Archangels, I want to be there. I’ve trained my entire life for something I couldn’t be told and now that I know what I’m here for, I really want to do it.”

The sound of a plasma jets cut through the air behind me. I turned to see the same Angel that left earlier with another one in tow. Looking at the other, I saw titanium curves that sparked immediate recognition. I knew exactly who it was.

“Jonathan?” she asked nervously as she took a step closer.

“Rachel,” I said, as her voice confirmed it.

She held her hands up to her face, covering her mouth with both hands as it formed an “O” shape.

“Then you’re the first, you’re really here?” she asked, unsure. Her voice sounded strained as though each word took considerable effort.

“So it would seem,” I said, then before I missed another chance, said what I had been waiting to say since my death.

“I love you Rachel, I’m sorry I didn’t realize it and tell you sooner, but I didn’t know it myself and I,” I said before she moved towards me.

It didn’t take her long to cross the short distance between us. She wrapped her arms around me hard, her body hitting me and knocking me down. I levered myself up on one arm, the sound of the impact still ringing in my armor and looked at her. I felt her shaking as she pushed her head into my shoulder.

Through the titanium skin that covered me, I could still feel her, almost as though I was still in my human skin back in the world I had taken for reality. I wrapped my free arm around her and pulled her closer, gently at first, then harder as I realized titanium skin doesn’t crush that easily. Knowing that she was real beneath it.

Through the link that Angels must share, I heard her crying gently as her body shook, making a noise loud enough that several technicians that had been observing me from a distance came running.

“I told you it was him,” Maria said softly from the side.

I just lay there, holding Rachel back just as tightly.

* * * *

Epilogue

Jeremy handed me a dark lager as I sat back to a large helping of pasta with a new sauce that he insisted was worth coming for.

It seems the staff were waiting for me to try it. I was still a celebrity here even if the rest of the world had moved on and I felt good here. It was home to me after all.

Jeremy warned me I might not want to return and he was wrong about that. There’s still something about the world you came up in that makes you want to go back there at times. But he was right about the sauce. It was good. Really good.

“So how did it go? Your latest test,” Jeremy asked.

“Well,” I said, smiling, “The second compressor in the Archangel makes a big difference. I went supersonic the last test.”

“No way,” Jeremy responded, sitting back as he did.

“Mach one point three way,” I said quietly, “But the compressor’s not really designed for it.”

Jeremy shook his head. “Those scientists must get nervous every time you disappear for a few hours on a test run.”

I shook my head to the side and grinned without intending to.

“They’ll have to live with it. I didn’t expect to find so many flaws in it though,” I said.

“Yeah, well they only had non-combative data from the simulation before that. I don’t think they realized what a trained Demon-pilot would do in his own skin,” Jeremy said.

Jeremy knew I was an AI as I knew he was a human in a world that was mostly filled with AIs. But here, we were both just good friends. I took a long sip of the lager, letting it fill me momentarily with its flavor.

“Did you hear about the other test results?” Jeremy asked offhand.

I put my fork down for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that,” I said quietly, looking at my old friend.

He never really seemed that old before I knew the truth. In here, he was barely older than I was.

“They’re going to remove the failed organs and leave me on permanent life support,” Jeremy said, “And both legs have to go.”

“You won’t be able to go out again, will you?” I asked.

Jeremy shook his head.

“After that, I might retire from my other duties and settle down,” Jeremy confided.

“From the Asimov Committee?” I asked.

Jeremy tilted his head slightly and looked off into space as he answered.

“It’s likely to influence my decisions,” he said, “if I’m a part of what I’m evaluating.”

I frowned, my appetite suddenly dimmed by the news.

“They’re losing their best field evaluator,” I pointed out.

“It’s my choice, not theirs,” Jeremy said, “They’ll let me stay on permanently until my remaining organs fail, which will probably give me another fifty years in here. It’s another chance at life which is more than I expected and I can still participate in setting the basis for future evolutions of the Turing Evolved tests.”

I nodded slowly.

“Rachel thinks that Paula’s waiting for you to take things to the next level,” I said slowly.

Was I treading on unwelcome territory here? Jeremy smiled, but it was uneasy. This was obviously something that had been bothering him.

“I think I finally found the woman I love, but is it wrong of me not to tell her?” Jeremy asked, “I’m not sure I can live with the knowledge of that.”

I shook my head.

“What you think is truth is a lie to her. She’s not in love with the real Jeremy, she’s in love with you. The way you are here and now. That’s not really a lie at all is it?”

Jeremy shook his head.

“I guess it’s not,” he said, his smile widening in earnest now.

Draining the last of my lager, I was surprised that the bartender came over so quickly with a refill. They had smaller glasses now, but they were quick in giving you more.

“Thanks Joe, but I have a flight tomorrow,” I said as he switched me over to a full glass.

“If that month in hospital didn’t kill you, then this won’t even touch you,” he said before walking off.

Jeremy had pulled some strings to keep my unreal body in life support for a month, even though it was technically dead, before they brought me out of a simulated brain-dead coma. Doctors can’t explain everything that happens, even here. It simplifies some of the options somewhat when it’s like that.

“Also, I wanted to ask you something, to look at something quietly and put an end to it if you can,” Jeremy said, suddenly getting into the business of things.

I paid attention then, even as I filled my mouth with some of what was on my plate.

“Staci’s been getting into things that she shouldn’t,” Jeremy said, “She’s been accessing files and nodes across the simulation, or at least we think it’s her. It’s nearly impossible to keep her out of anything now and the committee are starting to question it.”

“They aren’t going to re-evaluate her license are they?” I asked, suddenly worried.

Jeremy shook his head rapidly from side to side.

“She’s within the rules regarding that at least so she’s fine, but in case she does brush up against the rules one day, she doesn’t need this hanging over her head,” Jeremy explained.

“Shouldn’t this be a request for Peter or Laura?” I asked.

Jeremy shook his head, more gently this time.

“No, I spoke to Laura. She says Staci’s out of control. I don’t think Laura has any idea what a typical teenage girl is like,” Jeremy said, making me smile.

“But she listens to you, Jon, she practically hero-worships you. I think it will have a lot more impact coming from you,” Jeremy explained.

I nodded slowly as I ignored the flavor of my food. Staci was very important to me. She had access to control systems and interfaces I simply didn’t know how to use effectively and even if I could, they would take my attention of the situation I was dealing with. She had convinced Peter to let her begin test-piloting the prototype Archangel chassis long ago and now she was participating in semi-tactical missions. Staci’s insight had already saved me on one mission and helped me significantly on others. She was important to me in other ways too. I felt very protective of her.

Still, the rumors which Staci undoubtedly knew, since she seemed to know almost everything just like her mother, were that they decided against any further STACI class interfaces. They were moving to a new AI interface project called CHERUBIM for the production candidates to come out of the Archangel project.

“Are we still having incursions into MIND from Mindspace? Last I heard, that faction in lower China was still trying to obtain and reverse engineer a virtual node,” I asked.

Jeremy nodded, “Yeah, I think so, but it’s lost in the background noise, so they only have people looking for it on the inside.”

“Perhaps that might be a worthwhile exercise for Staci to keep her on the right track and win her some positive exposure with the committee,” I suggested.

Jeremy made a bobbing motion which suggested to me that he was considering it.

“Might be worthwhile, so long as she’s safe enough.”

I heard a slight noise behind me and Jeremy looked up, his smile widening before he started to shift over on the bench seat.

“Excuse me, but it this seat taken?” A familiar voice behind me called.

I twisted my head slightly to see an stunning blond lady walk up, make a quick smile at me, then push herself into the seat beside Jeremy before she stole his breath. From the way Jeremy shifted as she did, I could see that there relationship was still going places that Jeremy had never been. She broke away almost coolly and I heard Jeremy gasp as he sucked air back into his lungs.

“Hello Paula,” I said absently, then moved over realizing that I too needed to make some room.

Paula was good for Jeremy and from what Rachel told me he was good for her too. She still worked the COT at Fullservice but Lorina-AI didn’t help the clients out anymore.

“Hello Jon, good to see you again,” Paula said, her lipstick very slightly smudged at the corner of her mouth. New brands didn’t really do that, but I think she liked the look on Jeremy’s face when he noticed it.

“How’s the Demon testing going at Arilssman?” she asked gently as Jeremy recovered himself.

“Still classified,” I responded evenly.

She was as big a fan of the new technology as Jeremy seemed to be and as much geek as he could handle.

“Can you get us tickets to a test flight?” she asked, smiling in the way that I’m sure got her what she wanted from most men.

“Not while we’re under threat, but I’ll see what I can do about getting you onto the next press tour,” I offered.

She made what sounded almost like a purring sound then as she sat back and leaned into Jeremy.

“Just as well. I think you look kind of hot in tin skin,” came a voice that only echoed inside my head.

Silently, my own beautiful girlfriend slipped in beside me before she spoke openly to everyone.

“That new public-screen only hypervid’s about to start in an hour so we don’t want to be late,” Rachel said, taking up my arm and hugging it to her.

The softness of her skin is always a complete contrast to the sharpness of her titanium, but both sides of her excited me equally. Next to me, Rachel was the opposite of Paula. She saved her deepest passion for the times when we were alone.

And it’s then that the surface of our skin doesn’t seem to make a difference.

#

I hear a knock at the door and get up. The apartment around me is nice, much nicer than I’m used to.

But then being a test pilot at Arilssman pays well and even if I can’t receive money in the real world, I can here.

“Who is it?” I call out.

“Mail,” comes a sweet voice from the hallway.

I look back at Rachel and she rolls her eyes. She’s looking stunning at the moment with what she’s wearing. She’s been next door with Laura for most of the day, but we have a date to meet some of her sisters tonight.

I open the door and look outside. Leanne, the company mailgirl, is there with her bag and her Arilssman access card pinned on her tight work shirt.

She smiles at me like she always does but when she catches a glimpse of Rachel in there the flirting stops and she hands me an envelope before she moves to the next apartment.

“I don’t like the way she flirts with you,” Rachel tells me after she’s gone.

I smile.

“Don’t be mean, the poor girl doesn’t have a chance,” I say.

As if to make sure, Rachel gets up and walks over to me, sliding her arms around my neck before she kisses me deeply, the slight tang of wine on her lips.

“Mmm, you’ve been drinking then?” I ask.

“Just a little,” Rachel says as she closes the door.

I look at the envelope. It has wide censorship marks from the security office on it and a redirection notice from the Samaritans as well.

It’s been some time since I worked for them, so I open it.

Inside I find a photograph that’s been transferred from Mindspace, more specifically, from a Mindspace server. A virtual server within a virtual server I now know.

I look closely, not sure about it at first.

A young asian girl is standing next to and holding a much larger Asian man with glowing tattoos.

They’re smiling as they hold up a hand to wave, a few seconds of video showing their hands moving back and forward.

I turn it over and it says, in English, “Thankyou from the San Family.”

Then that I realize as I look at it again that things are not quite the same. San Li now has a slightly wider stomach than I recall before.

I wonder at that for a moment until I realize.

And then I smile.

Not just because she’s pregnant and happy with her new husband, but because I now know something they don’t.

San Tenma is an Archangel candidate still in testing.

* * * *

Comments from the author.

Thank you for choosing and reading this story. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you have, please tell others.

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In case you are wondering, yes, Jon and Rachel’s story continues. This story isn’t a multipart story – this is a single novel, but there are other tales and of course, You’re probably wondering what’s next.

So if you want to know, encourage me. Writing can be a lonely pastime and I enjoy knowing someone is going to read what I’ve spend a considerable part of my lifetime doing.

Thank you once again,

David Kitson

http://www.turingevolved.com

http://www.wewritefiction.net

davidk@blackice.com.au

Christmas Eve, 2010.

Smashwords Revision 1.9

My apologies if it looks mangled at all – I can’t check all formats. Please let me know of any issues you experience with this format.

# # # #

David Kitson is a part-time writer and amateur scientist. When he is not writing, he can usually be found teaching people to build night vision equipment or taking photos of the night sky through image tubes. He is an active member of the KSP Speculative Fiction Writers Group in Western Australia.