Kaleidocide (51 page)

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Authors: Dave Swavely

BOOK: Kaleidocide
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That was the last time I would speak to anyone from there, until later that night, when the big ugly Russian showed up at the vineyard cottage where I was hiding. I didn't know it at the time, but right after I hung up, all communications to and from the hill were completely blacked out.

 

45

SECRETS REVEALED

Valeri Korcz sat upright and still on the edge of his bed, as he had for most of the twenty-four hours since he'd been locked in his room with no net access. The only time he had moved was to sleep for a few hours during the night, then to shower and dress when he woke up. He hadn't worn his black clothing for the last few days, but now that color was all he had left, and he had to put it on. He would have thought that was ironic, if he understood the meaning of the word.

The Ares woman had sent some real books down to him from her collection, concerned that he wouldn't have anything to do while he was stranded in the room, but he had no interest in reading them. Instead he sat like a statue and thought about what he would do if he was ever let out of the room. And soon he had his opportunity.

A holo screen appeared suddenly in front of him; it was black except for some white letters that appeared on it.

YON: THANK YOU FOR SAYING THAT I AM PEOPLE TOO. YOU ARE A GOOD FRIEND.

“You are welcome,” the big Russian said, not knowing whether or not the bodiless entity could hear him speaking.

YON: I DO NOT HAVE LONG TO HELP YOU BEFORE THEY FIND OUT. FOLLOW THE MOST DIRECT PATH TO THE AERO BAY, AND TAKE THE ONE THAT YOU USED BEFORE. NOW. WHILE THEY ARE AT OTHER PLACES.

Right after she said this, the door to his room slid open and the holo screen disappeared. He stood up and made his way through the hallways, encountering no one along the way. When he arrived in the big bay with the two helicopters and seven aeros, he approached the one he had driven before and opened the door. Yon must have been watching for that, because the controls and HUD display lit up and were at his command. He discovered that he wasn't able to use the car's comm system to call out, however.

“Do you know where Michael Ares is?” he said into the air, wondering whether Yon could hear him there, and if so, whether she could effectively hide another conversation from her sisters.

YON: YES, OF COURSE I KNOW WHERE MICHAEL IS. WE ARE THE ONES WHO SET UP THE FORTRESS CLOUD, TO HIDE HIS LOCATION BUT STILL ALLOW HIM TO COMMUNICATE WITH US.

Korcz tapped the controls for the aero's GPS system, so it was ready for an address to be entered, and said, “Where is he?”

Yon seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then delivered the address of the cottage to the GPS. Korcz didn't want to insult her by asking if she could hide his takeoff from her sisters, so he silently lifted the aero off the ground and surged it forward through the holo at the mouth of the bay.

When he was clear of the hill and could tell that no one was pursuing, he displayed on the inside of the windshield the list of handguns, assault rifles, and grenade launchers that were stored in the seats and trunk of the aero, and considered which ones would be needed to accomplish what he had to do. Then he sat back and enjoyed the colorful scenery of the fall vineyards ahead and below, as he glided toward the place in the midst of them where Michael Ares was in hiding.

*   *   *

Zhang Sun couldn't see the Napa Valley vineyards yet, but he was not too far away, and was literally quivering with anticipation. His oversized hoverjet was passing over the coastline of Northern California, heading toward the Wine Country, as he waited for the call he hoped would come soon. He didn't want the plane to have to circle in the air and attract attention to itself, even though it was officially registered to a big Hong Kong business and would probably survive any such scrutiny.

The jet had been built by Comac, the commercial aircraft company owned by the Chinese government, as had all the planes used by their leaders since the fiasco at the turn of the century, when almost thirty CIA bugs were found in a presidential transport bought from Boeing in America. And Comac had outdone themselves with this one. The top level, where Sun was reclining in his luxurious chair, was a sleek and spacious office and apartment for him, while the lower level was an electronically camouflaged staging area for the elite squad of “Flying Dragon” special forces he had brought with him. And as much as the custom plane itself had cost to manufacture, it was only worth a fraction of the value of the cutting edge military equipment that the soldiers had with them.

Sun and his special force had boarded the plane and taken off from Nanjing almost fifteen hours before, after he had received his last call from the
nèi ji
ā
n
inside his enemy's residence. The traitor had said that because of an amazing series of coincidences, which Sun ascribed to his
ban lan jiao,
the ultimate form of revenge could be arranged for a slightly higher price, which he was more than happy to pay. He would be able to execute Michael Ares by his own hand, after making him watch his wife and baby die, and also have his old nemesis Min thrown in for good measure. Sun could never have imagined this
xing lu cai se
working out so perfectly, and had never felt the
ban lan
spirits working in it so powerfully. So he had great confidence that what was promised would be delivered to him, and that he would return safely afterward to his own country, with his thirst for revenge thoroughly slaked.

As expected, the next call came through at just the right time, when the Chinese jet was approaching the airspace of the Napa Valley, and was almost ready to test whether its surveillance and defenses were operable. As with the last communication, this one came in the form of a heavily encrypted text message, presumably so the tech wizards in Sun's employ wouldn't be able to lift any confidential information from it.

YOU MADE THE TRIP
, said the white letters inside the holo, which had appeared in front of the general.

“I told you I would,” he said in return.

THE SECURITY SYSTEMS IN THE VALLEY AND ON THE HILL ARE NOW PROGRAMMED TO ALLOW YOU IN AND OUT. TWO OF YOUR TARGETS ARE TEMPORARILY SEDATED AND WAITING FOR YOU THERE, AND THE OTHER WILL BE SOON.

“You will not be there to greet us?” Sun asked.

NO. WHEN YOU CONFIRM THAT ALL THE TARGETS HAVE BEEN DELIVERED TO YOU AS PROMISED, YOU WILL TRANSFER THE AMOUNT AGREED ON TO MY ACCOUNT. I'VE MADE SOME MONEY PROTECTING ARES, AND NOW I'M READY FOR YOURS. AND I'M NOT STUPID ENOUGH TO HANG AROUND SO YOU CAN SHOOT ME, TO AVOID PAYING ME AND COVER YOUR ASS.

“I will transfer half the amount when I have the targets safely in hand,” Sun said. “And the other half when I am safely out of the Valley. I am not stupid either.”

FINE. HAVE FUN
! And then the holo and its letters were gone.

Having fun, in his own unique way, was precisely what Sun was planning to do. And as the jet passed into the airspace at the north end of Napa Valley without anyone firing on it or even hailing it, he knew that all this was not too good to be true after all, and let himself imagine every detail he was about to savor. As he did, he quietly chanted the words of the
ban lan
ritual, to make sure the spirits felt appreciated and would continue to bless him, and he again began to feel the surges of intense pleasure that only devotees like himself were able to experience. For the last few minutes of the flight, he activated the Lovers' Link implant in his brain, and added another experience on top of what he was already feeling, reliving one of the most memorable times he had spent with his long-dead partner. The resulting cascade of emotions and sensations reached a higher peak than ever, but he knew that the highest summit was still to come—an orgy of torture and death that would be the opposite of pleasure for Michael Ares and his loved ones.

*   *   *

Min woke up earlier than was planned, but only moments before Sun and his force arrived at the big hangar built into the side of the hill base. He sat up, simultaneously running diagnostics on his damaged systems and looking around him. He was in that hangar bay in the side of the hill, and he was unable to access the net or communicate with anyone through it. Lynn and the double were lying on the floor next to him, both still unconscious and with their hands tied behind their backs. He was not bound in that way, probably because whoever did it knew that it would be pointless. But he was very shaky as he forced himself to his feet, and also completely out of ammunition from his battle at the Marin Center.

This was unfortunate, because just then he heard what sounded to him like a hoverjet outside the entrance to the bay, landing on the hillside next to it. This was smart, he thought, because if an enemy landed their craft inside the base, he or someone else could possibly destroy it before anyone got out. He might have been able to jump in one of the two Firehawk helicopters that were parked in the bay, and take out the enemy craft with its weapons before many of its passengers disembarked. But this way there would be a swarm of individual attackers that would be much harder to get a bead on.

As he watched the mouth of the bay, however, he did not see many armed men enter it, but only one unarmed man, dressed in a black suit and walking slowly his way. Min's mind barely had time to recognize that the man was Zhang Sun before his body blurred into motion, rushing toward his former superior and drawing out one of the three-foot-long swords from his back. His instincts told him that he should take the offensive and take advantage of the enemy leader's vulnerability in being alone. If he could cut off the head of the invading force, it might not matter how many soldiers or cyborgs were behind him.

But the big machine-man didn't even get halfway to Sun, nor did he get halfway up to speed before he ran into an invisible wall and was knocked off his feet. It felt like he was being tackled by at least four men, though he had seen none, and his senses continued to betray him as he struggled against unseen bodies that were crushing him to the ground and hands that were prying his blade away from him. At first he wondered whether this was evidence of the supernatural, and demons from Sun's religion were manifesting themselves in the service of the Chinese leader. But then his naturalistic bent brought him back down to earth, and he realized that the PLA had finally perfected the invisibility technology that they had been working on even back when he was an officer in it. It made use of sophisticated metamaterials that were able to refract light and cause the eye to see only what was on the other side of the subject.

“There are ten of my Wraiths in this hangar right now,” Sun explained with a proud smile. “Two are guarding me, four are subduing you, two are somewhere else with their weapons trained on you, and two are with the people lying over there, whom you have sworn to protect. If you make any hostile move, you will be shot immediately, and they will be, too.”

Min stopped struggling and lay still. He didn't need the calculations being made by his augmented brain to know that this was a fight he couldn't win. With his unfiltered eyes he could only see a shimmering in the air where he thought the Wraith soldiers were located, and definitely couldn't see it well enough to take them out. And importing every ocular filter he had onto his augmented lenses, one after another in the space of about thirty seconds, didn't allow him to see them any better. The filters were registering different wavelengths of light, but it was all light nonetheless, and therefore was refracted by the metamaterials. Min could think of no other alternative right now than to allow his enemies to do what they wished with him, and hope against hope that help might arrive before they were all killed.

“Some of these men,” Sun said, as if on cue, “are the same ones who were sent to quash your pathetic little revolution when you betrayed your country and sided with our enemies.” His mouth was wrinkled up in disgust, an unusual display of emotion for the normally stoic general. “You ended up in pieces after that encounter, and now they are about to take you apart again. We cannot have any of those built-in weapons at your disposal while you watch your charges suffer and die, and it will be gratifying for me to undo what was done by those other traitors at Cyber Hole.”

Sun nodded to one of the Flying Dragons standing above Min, whose location could only be determined by the blade he held in his invisible hand, and now raised high above his invisible head. This was smart, too, Min thought, because his own weapons were the only ones that could cut through his joints so effectively. And the sword did indeed prove to be very effective, as the Wraith brought it down upon his body time and again, until all that was left attached to his head were his shoulders and spinal cord.

As he resisted the urge to scream and give Sun more pleasure, Min's only consolation was a small one. At least he knew, for now, where one of the enemy soldiers was, because so much blood had splashed onto his tormentor's suit that the metamaterials were having some difficulty adjusting to it. But he also knew that it was only a matter of time until even that Wraith would be invisible again, and he knew that it was not only his blood that would be staining the hangar floor that night.

 

46

BETRAYAL

When the security systems of the cottage detected the approaching aero, I was watching the
Pilgrim
holo with Chris, while Angelee cleaned up after dinner. We were at the part in the movie where the main character and his friend were in the mountains and some shepherds were showing them various visions. And the one we were watching was rather scary, especially for a four-year-old like Chris: a group of blind men were stumbling around in a dark, gothic cemetery, bumping into eery gravestones and mausoleums, unable to find their way out. The crashes of thunder and the screams of the trapped men were so loud that I almost didn't hear the voice of the Living House A.I. above the din.

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