Killswitch (28 page)

Switchblade shook his head. “I don't get it.”

“It's code, Switch,” Mel said. “The code I planted in the exoself to hook it up with the underground.”

“Well, how ‘bout that,” he said. “Charlie, get it back inside you. We know there ain't nobody tracking it now. We turned that off, or whatever. Right, Melody?”

“You disabled the tracker that found us on the highway when you destroyed my laptop. But they've got to be looking for us. For Chase.”

Chase sat the laptop on the table and looked at Mel. “You're unsure about this, aren't you? When I first got hold of this, I had second thoughts. I considered putting it away and not telling you. I don't know if I really want the exoself back inside me.”

Switchblade walked as far as he could in the little room, his hands on his hips. He spun around. “Are you kidding me? We got to get this back in you, man. Unless you think that old laptop can do everything you could do with the exoself. Seems to me it can't do nothing but show us some numbers.”

“It may not matter what we want or don't want,” Mel said. “I don't know how to get the program restored in Chase's processors.”

“And I sure don't know how,” Chase said. “But the exoself was able to use your computer to destroy a drone. So, there's got to be more to it than simply putting the code out. Let's type in the safe travel code. Seems that one does more than the others.”

Mel knelt and took his hand in both of hers. “Are you sure? You said you had second thoughts. Nobody is going to make you do something you don't want to do. Not anymore.”

“Oh, come on,” Switchblade said. “You gotta do it, Charlie.”

Mel let go of Chase's hand. She shot Switchblade a glance. “We could use a couple more chairs in here. Would you go get us some?”

“You want me out of here so you can baby the robot?” Switchblade pursed his lips and his nostrils flared.

Mel crossed her arms. “I want us all to be able to sit around the table and work this out. Now go get us some chairs.”

“You're the boss.” Switchblade opened the door and stepped out. “You all best leave the door cracked. Don't want nobody saying our leader don't got to live by the rules.” He disappeared down the hall.

“He's right,” Chase said. “I have to do this. Or at least I have to try.”

“I meant what I said, Chase. If you don't want to go down that path, don't. It's your call.” She took his hand and pulled him out of the chair and to the end of the bed. They sat side by side. “What do you think God wants you to do? Did you ask Him?”

Chase lifted his eyes upward. “Well, God? Do You care one way or the other if I'm more transhuman or less transhuman? This new connection I feel—is it going to end if I let Sparky back in?” He closed his eyes and took a breath.

“That's amazing,” Mel said.

He opened his eyes and met her gaze. “What do you mean?”

“The way you just talked to God. Nobody does that, Chase. Nobody just starts up a conversation with God like He's sitting right there.”

“Oh. I just don't know any better. I told you I've got a lot to learn about being a Christian.”

“Well, don't learn too much. Wouldn't want you to unlearn how to pray. You got an answer?”

“Yeah. Nothing will separate me from God. Nothing. You and Switchblade told me that. Tell me something from the Bible, Mel. Tell me I'm right about this.”

“From the book of Romans. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God 
that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

“Does transhumanism fall within the boundaries of
all creation
?”

“Back when we were at Synvue, I once told you nobody makes something from nothing. Nobody but God. The Helgen Institute didn't do anything God didn't allow.”

“What was meant for evil, God used for good.”

Mel smiled and brushed her hand against the side of his face. “That's right.”

Switchblade pushed the door open and dropped two chairs to the floor. “There. Now what are we doing about this, Charlie? You in? Or are you a transchicken?”

45

Chase grabbed a chair and pulled it to the table for Mel, and he sat beside her. “Get yourself a chair and sit down, you big jerk,” he said to Switchblade as he let a chuckle slide out. “We've got to figure out how to get Sparky back where he belongs.”

Switchblade nearly smiled—a rare site from what Chase had witnessed the past few days. “That's what
I'm
talking about. What do you do now, Melody? You need anything? Wires or pliers or something?”

“Pliers?” Chase asked. “What do you think she'd do with pliers?”

“I don't know—
you're
the robot.”

“Well, I don't have any parts that require anything from a tool box, Switchblade.”

“You boys keep it down,” Mel said. “I can't think.”

“Sorry,” Chase said. “Type in thirty-one, eight and see what happens.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Switchblade said. “What's thirty-one, eight?”

“Safe travel,” Chase told him. “Mel? Anything?”

“I don't think so,” she said.

“Let me try.” Chase reached for the computer and pulled it across the table. “When I was traveling, I asked the exoself to give me some instructions, and it did.” He put his hands on the keys and began typing, Mel and Switchblade behind him.

CHASE STERLING REQUESTING REINSTALLATION INSTRUCTIONS

Nothing.

RESTORE CYBER CONNECTION

“This is a waste of time,” Switchblade said.

HEY, OLD FRIEND. I NEED SOME INSTRUCTIONS. GIVE ME SOMETHING.

The code on the screen mushroomed from a short list of numbers to a full page display of binary code. Chase touched the screen as the code scrolled down. His eyes drank it in. Even his fingertips seemed to take in the information he couldn't interpret. The processors in his back and arms surged.

“I need to lie down.” He rose from the chair and stumbled to the bed.

“Chase, is this thing hurting you?” Mel knelt on the floor next to him as he dropped to his back. “I'm turning it off.”

“No,” he said. “Robert was able to reactivate the exoself in an orderly fashion. Now it's just all rushing in at once. But don't try to stop it. It's coming back.”

“Don't want the thing to take you down or nothing,” Switchblade said. “I didn't mean to push so hard for you to do this.”

The rush that Chase knew as the signature of the exoself seemed to slow. “Give it to me. I need to look at the code. I don't know what I'm looking at, but I think my eyes do.”

“Chase, are you sure?” Mel asked.

He reached for her hand. “I'm fine.” Sweat beaded on his upper lip. Other than that, and the lethargy that had overtaken him, his physical condition hadn't altered. He could count the beats of his heart. He knew his blood pressure and temperature. They were forever constant.

“Quickly, Mel. Give me the laptop.”

Before she could stand, Switchblade handed her the computer. She placed it on Chase's stomach, the screen facing him. He lifted his head a little, and Mel folded the pillow underneath him so he could look at the scrolling code. The inner clock worked again. For three minutes, thirty-four seconds, he didn't blink. And it all came back.

Every branch of the Underground Church lined up in a sea of information organized by the four
S
's. The secret communication of the WR opened to his manipulation. Intel of arrests, of stake-outs, growing detention center population, and the increasing number of people dropping off the grid of WR support programs filled his mind. He checked the reports from the underground against the files of the WR. No base of operations had been flushed out. At least not since those of a few days ago. Chase hadn't missed too much, and the exoself filled him in on what had gone down during their separation.

He exhaled a groan.

“Chase, that's enough,” Mel said. “I'm turning this thing off.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” he told her. “It's done. The exoself is back where it belongs.”

Before he'd finished the sentence, the computer screen went black. Then a spark shot out and a whiff of smoke rose into the air.

Switchblade grabbed the laptop and dropped it on the table. He waved his hand over it as if that would stop the smoke. Then he slammed the lid shut. “I think it was too much for the old thing.”

Chase sat up and rubbed his eyes. “I told Finley we'd get her stuff moved to another computer.”

Mel raked her fingers through his hair. “Too late for that. She'll understand. All that matters is you're OK. You are, aren't you?”

“Yeah. Don't think I'm quite ready bend a metal pole, and I don't know if I can see in the dark. Other than that, seems everything is in good working order.”

“Hallelujah,” Switchblade said.

Then a flash of code appeared from the corner of Chase's eye. It danced and curved until it began to take the form of a human.

Chase wouldn't allow this. That phantom would not haunt him again. He jumped off the bed, grabbed a chair, and threw it at the corner of the room.

Mel let out a quick scream. “Chase, what is it?”

Switchblade took Chase by the arms and tried to sit him down on the bed, but Chase sent him flying into the wall. The upper body strength was back.

“I will not accept this!” he yelled at the code replicating in the corner. “Get out of here!”

Then he dropped to the bed and breathed out a heavy sigh. He swiped his hands over the top of his head.

“Oh, God, thank you,” he said. “Robert.”

46

“I can see you, Robert.” Chase stared at the apparition materializing in the corner. “Can you hear me?” The white coat worn by the doctor when Chase last saw him was as real as Kerstin's red dress the night she'd first materialized.

“I hear you, son, but I can't see you. It's how the program works.” Robert didn't look directly at Chase but his lips moved when he spoke.

“I know—I've had this experience before. Though I didn't welcome the last person who intruded on the exoself. But now—”

“Yes, yes. Kerstin. Awful woman. I demanded she be sent back to the Synvue Estate. But the government took her somewhere else, I think. They were hard on her when she lost track of you.”

“Then you know about that. Robert, I'm so glad to see you. Well, to see what the exoself has presented of you. I've got so many questions. That aside, it's just so good to talk with you.”

Mel sat beside him and clutched his hand. “Chase, baby, is Robert Fiender really here? Right now?”

Chase pried his eyes off Robert and looked at Mel. “Same program as when Kerstin showed up. It's all right. He's on our side.”

“Are you sure? We don't know what kind of tricks those people can pull. Maybe it's not really him at all.”

“Chase, is someone there with you?” Robert asked. “If so, then a change has occurred in the program. The exoself should not have allowed contact unless you were alone. Little visions and hints of a presence, perhaps, but not audio.”

“Yeah, about the exoself—it's done some things you might call unbelievable. Not to mention what my body can do on its own. If you know about Kerstin, then you know about the Feds losing my trail so quickly. I mean, I was right there under their noses. Did the exoself throw them off?”

“I suppose it did. The Feds were baffled when the trail went cold. They picked up three men, assumed one of them was you, and brought them in. Didn't take long, of course, to realize their mistake, but they only scanned the area for your cyber imprint. None was found and they didn't even bother with a physical search. Then a drone caught your trail, only to crash before it could send back reliable data.”

“The exoself was hiding in an old laptop when it blew up that drone.”

The doctor's bushy eyebrows drew together and he wiped his mustache. Chase smiled at this. He'd missed the old man. His friend.

“I had a feeling it had come out of your systems when your imprint disappeared. But to hide in an antiquated device? I feared it may have jumped out of you completely this time, rather than remaining dormant after the killswitch was triggered. Its homing mechanism should have sent it here. But it was best that it stayed clear of me—I guess it knew better. I'm under constant scrutiny.” The doctor paused. He blinked his thick eyelids. “Chase, I had nothing to do with implanting the device in Kerstin that allowed her to access the exoself.”

“I know, Robert. I never thought you did. But I think the homing mechanism did what it was supposed to do. Only it sought out a closer familiar hiding place. The laptop—actually two laptops—were registered to Melody Reese. Do you remember that name?”

The doctor grumbled and his lips puffed outward. “Yes, yes, of course I remember. Your undercover programmer. The best friend you were so determined to locate.”

“That's right. I guess the exoself knew her, so to speak, since she helped in the programming. It took up residence in her computer. A perfect hiding place.”

“Amazing. And now it's back inside you where it belongs? And you're safely back underground? Somewhere in Quebec, I assume.” Robert cleared his throat. “Before you answer, and because this whole situation appears so volatile and fluid, disregard my last question, Chase. The Feds have not given up.”

“Thank you for wanting to protect us.”

“Us?”

“Yes.” Chase put his arm around Mel.

“Enough said. But how on earth did you get the exoself back into your processors?”