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Authors: Dave Swavely

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BOOK: Kaleidocide
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“Stop!” she growled through clenched teeth, and I did.

“What about you?” I asked. “Have you been thinking more about taking over the school?” Lynn had grown up in the orphanage that Saul's wife started on the grounds of the Presidio, and that kind of work was right up her alley, compassionate and domestic as she was.

“Yes, but I want to have the baby first and bond with her, before taking something like that on. I don't need a job to be happy.”

“I don't need my job to be happy either,” I said, not sure it was really true, but trying to forget about it for now and get back to enjoying the moment. “I only need you … and Lynley.” I moved my hand back down to the baby. “You believe me, don't you?”

“Maybe,” she said with a smile and turned from her side to her back.

“What will really make me happy,” I said, touching her belly button now, “is when this gets all stretched out, so there's no hole anymore. That's cool.”

“It won't be long,” she said, and soon we were kissing and caressing again, with Lynn pausing periodically to stop the blanket from slipping off. She was insecure about her body, despite my compliments, and also a bit paranoid because she knew there were so many security people in the vicinity of the house.

Her modesty turned out to be providential, because just as it was getting good again, we were interrupted by what felt like an earthquake, as five hundred pounds of Chinese cyborg jumped from the ground below the deck, soared over the art-deco railing, and landed with a shocking thud on the floor next to us. Lynn shrieked and pulled the whole blanket to herself, as if the greatest danger was that Min might see her naked. The giant had no interest in that, however. He stood with his forearms extended in combat readiness, and his eyes scanned the inside room, through the wide doorway, with a superhuman speed and perception.

Then he spoke, which was a rare phenomenon. “I'm sorry, sir. My sensors had been registering some anomalies within the security perimeter—nothing to bother you with. But when one of the diagnostic programs suggested that a foreign object may have entered your vicinity, I felt it necessary—”

“You're saying someone's in there?” I looked toward the room. I felt naked without my clothes, but even more so without my guns, which were inside.

“I do not know,” said the big man, his gaze never leaving the darkness of the room. “There is an anomaly in my readings, but I have now scanned the room in four modes, and found nothing.”

“It
was
getting rather exciting out here,” I said. “Maybe that set off your—”

“Michael!” Lynn scolded me, in disgust. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, and checked to see if anything was showing.

“I can turn the lights on from out here,” I said, then to the room: “Lights on.” Nothing happened, so I said it louder, and they finally came on.

Just inside the room, a man was sitting in one of the plush aqua chairs. He was holding both of my guns, and pointing them straight at us.

 

3

KALEIDOCIDE

I instinctively moved in front of Lynn, so that the bullets would hit me if the guns were fired, and Min moved in front of me faster than the eye could see. I knew the cyborg's augmented mind was calculating an angle at which he could disarm the intruder, and sensed his powerful body coiling to do that, when my non-augmented mind finally realized who was sitting in the chair.

“Stand down, Min,” I said. “And tell the men coming up the steps to stay outside.” The giant's head turned slightly toward me, the muscles and machinery inside him not relaxing a bit, despite my order. “It's all right, he's an old friend.” Min's head turned back toward the figure in the chair, who smiled and lowered the guns. Then Min did relax, but remained still, silently issuing the orders with his brain to the approaching forces. The rumbling on the other side of the door stopped, and I stepped to the side so I could see the man in the chair better.

“Terrey?” I said, and then it occurred to me that he could be an impostor, though it would have been an impressive disguise, because my old friend was so uniquely handsome. The squiggly upper lip, imperfect complexion, short but wavy sandy hair, sad but tough eyes, and the overall boyish but intelligent look … only the biggest money and best science could have duplicated him. But this intruder had beat BASS security to get in here—marks of big money and top science. So I cocked my head to the side and spread my hands in a query toward him.

“Only one way to find out,” he said in a half-Australian, half-British accent, which also would have been hard to duplicate.

“Live forever, man,” I said in my half-British, half-American.

“Never die young, mate,” he answered, and I knew it was Terrey, because this was the customary greeting from when we were younger. My part was from a song first recorded by Oasis in the 1990s long before I was born, then remade by Balls Out when I was a teen in England, and his part was from a popular movie made in Australia when he was young.

I started to step toward him to greet him further, but then remembered Lynn and looked back to see that she was white as a sheet.

“Bloody hell, Terrey,” I said, gesturing to my half-covered wife.

“Had to be, Michael,” he answered, studying the guns while he did. “Boas, huh? These are a bit of a step down from your Trinity, aren't they?” He smiled at me, trying to ease the awkwardness of the moment.

I ignored him and sat back down next to Lynn.

“I'm so sorry, sweetheart. You okay?” I put my hand on the part of the blanket where the baby was underneath.

“I think so,” she said, breathing hard. “Can I just get dressed?”

“Yeah, sure. Absolutely.” I stood up with her and walked her inside to the door to another room, helping her hold the blanket in place and keeping my naked body between hers and Terrey, in deference to her modesty and regardless of mine. When we reached it, I told Terrey and Min that I would be back in a second.

“Try not to kill each other,” I added, and went into the room with Lynn, where I assured her further and slipped on some pants. Then I hurried back out to the main room.

Terrey had tossed the guns onto another piece of furniture, obviously wanting to pacify the big cyborg, who still stood motionless and wary in the same place.

“How did you get in here?” I asked.

“Magic,” he answered, spreading his own hands now.

“How?” I repeated. “Tell me.”

“Really, Michael.” He smiled. “I can't reveal all my secrets, you know, but I did it to reveal one that I have discovered about you: you are in some
serious
danger.” He crossed his legs and relaxed, now that any possible confrontation was past. “I could have taken you out easily before your machine-man arrived, and long before the others. And if
I
can do that, you're going to have to make some big-time changes to survive what's coming.”

“Have the peacers outside conduct an investigation right now,” I said to Min. “Find out how we were breached.” The big man nodded very slightly, and dived into the net via the cyberware in his brain, while still listening to our conversation—something that not many creatures on the planet could do.

“I told you, Michael,” Terrey said, “there's no existing tech that can make someone invisible to your people or to your scanning capabilities, let alone both.”

“Were any of the guards taken out?” I asked Min, who shook his head no. “Any air traffic detected?” No again.

“So unless there's been an unknown invention that cannot be seen by the human eye or current surveillance,” Terrey continued, “it's magic. Harry Potter,
Lord of the Rings,
Net Aura kind of stuff.”

I frowned at him and looked at Min again, who shook his head one more time.

“And seriously, mate,” Terrey continued, “that kind of mystical stuff may be at play in this problem you have, which is what you really need to worry about, not something irrelevant that I'll never tell you.”

“Okay, what is it?” I asked, sitting down across from him.

“You'll be dead within two weeks.”

“How so?”

“Ever hear of the word ‘kaleidocide'?”

I thought for a moment, then said, “Yes, I have, because I met Zhang Sun once, and became curious, so I surfed the net about him. I saw some of the speculation—rumors that he's into some weird religion that includes a ritual he uses to kill people, political enemies and such. Looked like an urban myth to me.”

“It's not,” Terrey said. “And you're next.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Min interrupted. “Dead ends all around on the breach. Looks like the secret stays with him for now.” Another understated gesture from the cyborg, in the direction of Terrey. “But I can confirm what he is saying about Zhang Sun. I heard about his cult from reliable sources.”

“That's right,” I said to Min. “You should know better than us.” I had recently discovered that my bodyguard had fled China because of Sun's rise to power.

“I want to hear about this,” said Lynn as she emerged from the other room, dressed and made up.

“That's fine,” I said, and she sat down on the divan next to me after I brought it back inside and closed the big door. “Lynn, meet Terrey Thorn. Terrey, my wife Lynn.”

“My apologies for the intrusion, marm,” Terrey said to Lynn, who didn't reply. “I had to show your husband how vulnerable he is, so he would let me save his life.”

“Michael?” Lynn looked at me.

“Terrey and I were in the British special forces together,” I explained. “Then I came here, and he went into the personal security business. We've lost touch, but I take it from this visit, Terrey, that you're still in that business?”

“One of the top companies in the world.”

“What's the name again? ‘Terrey Will Take Care of You'?”

“Protection Guaranteed.”

“Oh, right. Nice rip-off of Reality G.”

“An homage. I want a monopoly like theirs.”

“Michael,” Lynn said again. “What's going on?”

“The most powerful man in the world wants him dead,” Terrey said. “And he most certainly will have his way, unless you hire me.”

“Why you?” Lynn asked.

“Because, trust me, I'm the only one who can protect you against
this.
And you can trust me.”

“What's
this
?”

“A method of assassination that has never failed to end in the death of its target.”

“What's so special about it? Michael and Min keep assuring me that we're as safe as anyone, with the BASS security measures.”

“You know how in most assassination attempts, the bad guy sends just one killer, or plants one bomb, or uses one other method of some kind? He can't do more than that because of limits on money and ability to escape the reach of the law. So if the good guy manages to thwart the attempt, he lives happily ever after, right? Well, in this case there are almost no limits on the resources and power of the one ordering the assassination. He's not just
trying
to kill you—he
is
killing you.”

“How?”

“He doesn't send just one assassin,” Terrey explained. “He uses multiple methods simultaneously, usually five or more. And in the three cases I've personally investigated and confirmed, they were successful long before all the methods were exhausted. Make no mistake, kaleidocide is not just a threat … it is a
death sentence.

All four of us were silent for a few fearful moments, and then I broke the silence.

“But you think you can protect me?”

“I'd like to try,” Terrey said. “This is like the World Cup Final in my business. If I keep you alive, we won't be
one
of the top firms in the world, we'll be at the top. Plus I owe you one.”

“That you do,” I agreed.

“So that's the meaning of the term you're using?” Lynn said. “Killing by a lot of different ways, like a kaleidoscope?”

“Yes, but by a lot of different colors, too.” Terrey started to explain this, but Min continued, probably accessing information from the net as he spoke.

“Zhang Sun is like many of his contemporaries in China,” the big bodyguard said, “in that he has become religious in the aftermath of the atheistic communist era, as the cultural pendulum has swung in that direction. But he is unlike most in that he embraced a rare form of cultic belief called the
bin lan jiao.
It's a complex system of faith, but in short they believe that colors, or the spirits associated with them, are a source of supernatural power. And one of the more exotic uses of this power is called
xing lu cai se,
or ‘many-colored murder.' As some on the net have become aware of Sun's practice, different names for it in English have been proposed, but the one that stuck is ‘kaleidocide.' Perhaps because it sounds something like the Chinese words.”

“The leader of the world's largest country is into this kind of stuff?” Lynn asked.

“It's not so hard to believe,” Terrey answered. “Famous people have often invented or adopted their own unique religion—it's a trapping of power. And China has long been one of the most superstitious places on earth. To this day, most Chinese cover the mirrors in their bedrooms because they think they reflect evil spirits.”

“And colors have always been very important to my people,” Min added. “Sun's religion is merely a modern modification and conglomeration of many ancient traditions, tailored to his purposes.”

“Which are what?” Lynn asked Terrey. “Why does he want to kill Michael? Because of Taiwan?”

“Very unlikely,” Terrey said. “Even if he knows of Michael's role there, that's not enough to drive him to this. He's very powerful, but this move is not without its political risks.”

BOOK: Kaleidocide
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