Nexus 02 - Crux (19 page)

“First time I ever see her… I’m being punished. Insubordination. So, pain stim. Which means I feel pain
everywhere
. All over, inside, fire pain, sharp pain, beating pain, all pain, all at once. And I’m curled up trying to fight it, trying show my brothers I’m tough, when
she
walks in.”

Kade saw it through Feng’s eyes. The barracks. The institutional gray walls and cold concrete floor. The metal frame bunk beds with the rolled-up olive green blankets. The drab brown footlocker that held every possession Feng had. The sergeant instructor pressing the button on the remote that sent Feng’s nervous system into a primeval hell. The door opening. Shu, standing there, in white. A formidable man in a dark uniform next to her. His face an ugly scowl, his shoulders bearing insignia. An officer. A colonel.

“Not just
a
colonel.
The colonel
. Man in charge of whole program. And she says to him ‘Stop! Stop this!’ And he says ‘No. They’re not human. We teach them to behave through pain.’”

Feng smiled grimly.

“Then she slaps him. Hard. And she says, ‘This man is more human than you are.’ And she walks up to the sergeant instructor and yanks remote from his hand and turns it off.”

Feng shook his head in admiration.

Kade seemed surprised. “She could do that?”

Feng nodded. “This was maybe two years after she… you know. After she goes digital. After
ascension
. She’s first true posthuman. And she’s
Chinese
and making all kinds of discoveries the big bosses like. She thinks she can do anything.”

Feng shrugged, “Me, I just collapse, not sure what to do. Then she asks me, ‘What’s your name?’ and I say ‘Confucian Fist D-42, sir!’”

“’No,’ she says. ‘Your
name
.’” Feng laughed, then stopped talking for a while, let Kade soak up the shock he felt in that moment. A
name
. The idea of it!

“My whole life, they taught me that I’m not human. I’m a
clone
. A
treaty violation
. I’m a number. I do what I’m told. Su-Yong, she treats me like a human being.

“She changes everything. Next day, colonel is out. Pain stim remotes gone. Training changes. We start to learn more science, politics, history. We get Nexus – what you call Nexus – in our brains.

“You see these people hurt by Nexus. Human bombs. People stealing. Women hurt. But for me… For me, Nexus means I touch my brothers for the first time. I understand that I’m not alone. Until then… ‘brother’ just mean someone I have to fight, have to compete with. One of us won’t get to eat. One of us gets more pain. No love. No
loyalty
. After Nexus, I can touch their minds… Then I feel them. Then I love them. Then I know loyalty. Then I really have brothers.

“And you know, I still hate instructors. Still today, and especially then. But Su-Yong, she say, we don’t have to be loyal to instructors, don’t have to be loyal to commanders. Have to be loyal to
China
. To the
people
. They’re our brothers and sisters.

“What you did, Kade. You give Nexus 5 to everyone. I know it makes Su-Yong mad. She wants more control than that. But you did the right thing.” Feng turned to look at Kade, poured every ounce of emotion into this. “All those people out there. They can start to understand. They each other’s brothers, each other’s sisters. Like you and me. Brothers. You did the right thing.”

Darkness finally fell. Insects came out. The jungle came alive with sounds. The air cooled to a more bearable level of heat.

“So what now?” Feng asked.

Kade turned and looked at his friend. “The monasteries aren’t going to work anymore. The bounty hunters have figured out our pattern. We’re just going to get monks killed. It’s time to try a new strategy, Feng. Let’s head to the coast. Let’s go see the big city.”

17

SURPRISE ENCOUNTER

Friday October 19th

“I’m not here to kill you, Martin.”

What? Holtzmann thought. The distortion was gone. This was a different voice. A voice he knew.

“I was hoping you could answer some questions for me,” his not-assassin continued.

Holtzmann opened his eyes. In the mirror he could see a face there, in the darkened back seat, where there hadn’t been one before. Headlights struck them from another car, illuminated the face for a moment. Dark hair, graying at the temples. Asian features. A face he hadn’t seen in months.

“Kevin.”

Nakamura nodded. “Who did you think I was?”

“I… I don’t know!” Holtzmann stammered.

Nakamura’s face was a mask in the darkened car, utterly still.

“I thought I was being mugged… carjacked…” Holtzmann went on.

“By someone who knew your name?” Nakamura asked. “Who snuck into your car while it was parked at DHS headquarters?”

Holtzmann’s heart hammered in his chest. He was that transparent. A professional could see through him in seconds…

Dear God, what am I doing? he thought. He said nothing.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Nakamura said gently. “We all know things we shouldn’t.”

Holtzmann swallowed, forced himself to breathe calmly. The car drove on down the dark highway, the lights of the DC suburbs sliding by on either side.

Nakamura filled the silence. “Six months ago, Samantha Cataranes was sent to Bangkok. You remember the mission?”

Cataranes? Holtzmann thought. This was about Cataranes?

“Yes. I remember.”

“You dosed her with Nexus 5 before she left. While there, during an op, she attacked ERD contractors during the attempted capture of Thanom Prat-Nung. Three days later, she attacked a team of SEALs, brought down a chopper, helped create an international incident. You remember all this?”

Holtzmann nodded. He remembered the chaos of that week. The botched mission in Bangkok. Dozens dead in the loft fire. The Nexus girl, Mai, among them. Ted Prat-Nung as well. Lane’s escape. Then the attack on the monastery. Su-Yong Shu’s death there. Nexus 5’s release. His own decision to try Nexus for himself… The discovery of Warren Becker dead of a heart attack, the next morning. He wouldn’t easily forget those few days.

“Why?” Nakamura asked.

Holtzmann blinked. “What?”

“Why’d she do it, Martin?”

“I…” Holtzmann fumbled over himself. “We think that Shu coerced her…”

“Could she do that? Coercion that complex?”

A memory flashed through Holtzman’s mind: Secret Service agent Steve Travers, in his suit and mirrored glasses, his hand coming out of his jacket in slow motion, the giant gun held there, the encrypted Nexus traffic between the shooter and whoever was controlling him echoing in Holtzmann’s mind. The world slowing even further as Holtzmann came to his feet and opened his mouth to scream that the man had a gun!

“Yes. Shu could do that.”

“Is there any evidence that she did?”

“There wasn’t any other explanation. We sent Cataranes out there with Nexus 5. It was a stupid move. Su-Yong Shu might have
created
Nexus. If she discovered who Sam was…”

“Is there any
evidence
?” Nakamura repeated.

“The evidence is how Sam acted. Kevin, you knew her. You
mentored
her. You practically
raised her
. She was loyal.”

More loyal than I am
,
Holtzmann thought.

Nakamura said nothing for a while. The car switched lanes of its own accord to fall in behind a long row of vehicles, then pulled up close to the one ahead, just inches from bumper to bumper, drafting, saving fuel.

“Shu’s dead now,” Nakamura said. “How would that affect Sam?”

Holtzmann brought his hands up to his face, closed his eyes for a moment, then pulled his hands away. “I don’t know, Kevin.”

“You don’t know?”

“It depends. How did Shu program her? Did she turn Cataranes into a puppet steered by remote control?”

In his mind the Secret Service man’s gun came out out out, and fired, and fired.

“…Or did she put in something more complex? Something deeper?”

Human missiles leveled the shooter, and Holtzmann turned, looking for the President. Joe Duran screaming in his ear, “How did you know, Martin? How did you know?”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Nakamura said.

Then the world exploded in Holtzmann’s memories, hurling him through the air.

“What?” Holtzmann said.

“If Shu turned Sam, she could have sent her back to ERD as a mole. Or whisked her and Kade off to China. Shu had to know the loft was an ambush, that it was a mission to get close to Prat-Nung.”

“I don’t understand,” Holtzmann said.

“Why did Shu let Sam and Kade walk into that situation, Martin? If she’d already turned Sam, then she
knew
the loft was an ambush. Shu was recruiting Kade, but she nearly got him killed.”

“Shu was trying to protect Ted Prat-Nung,” Holtzmann replied.

Nakamura shook his head. “No. Shu and Prat-Nung knew each other. She could have just warned him away.”

Holtzmann dropped his face back into his hands. He was so tired. So very tired. He could feel the aches starting again, the clammy sweating, the chills deep inside.

“I don’t know, Kevin.”

“Who had the most to gain?” Nakamura asked, almost to himself. “The way to find the cause of an event is to understand who had the most to gain from it.”

The car activated its turn signal, then switched lanes on its own, into the exit lane that would take them to Holtzmann’s home.

“Lane,” Holtzmann said. “Kaden Lane had the most to gain. He escaped because of Sam.”

Nakamura nodded. “Yes. That was my conclusion as well.”

And the movie started again in Holtzmann’s mind. The hot July day. The white plastic chairs. The President blathering on. The encrypted Nexus traffic. The Secret Service agent in black suit and mirrored glasses, reaching into his jacket…

“Could he do it?” Nakamura asked.

…The gun coming out in slow motion...

“Yes,” Holtzmann replied, sick to his stomach. “I think he could.”

… Coming out, out, out…

“One last question, Martin.”

Firing, firing. Muzzle flash and terrible boom. Human bulldozers striking Travers, the gun flying from his hand. Holtzmann ached so deep inside.

“Can you get it out of her?” Nakamura asked. “Out of Sam’s mind?”

Holtzmann thought of the cure experiments, the mice dead in their cages from every batch so far. Maybe the back door that Rangan Shankari had given them? That terrible, terrible tool. Could they at least use it to counteract whatever Shu had done to Cataranes? It was too soon to say.

“I don’t know, Kevin. I just don’t know.”

Nakamura nodded.

The car slowed as it reached the turn signal at the end of the exit. The doors made a
thunk
as they unlocked. In the rear-view mirror, Nakamura pulled the mask of his chameleonware suit over his face once more.

“Thank you, Martin,” he said with the deep distorted voice again. “I was never here.”

Nakamura opened the door just as the car came to a stop. He stepped out onto the curb, his silhouette fading to a moving pattern of shadow and distortion before Holtzmann’s eyes. Then the door closed, and the car made its turn, and Holtzmann was alone with his thoughts and his memories and his aching need.

18

FRIENDS

Friday October 19th

Rangan woke, curled up on the floor in a corner of his cell. He’d eaten the traitor’s meal they’d given him, but refused the new, restraint-free bed. It was better than he deserved.

He blinked to shake off sleep. His dreams had been strange. Ilya fighting faceless figures with push/pull. Ilya dying in the dark, crying, alone, her heart stopped, all of her fading to nothing. And children. Strange children. Confused children.

Rangan pulled himself up to sitting. He was stiff from sleeping on the hard surface. His hip hurt and his left leg was half asleep. He rubbed his calf absently as he struggled back to wakefulness.

Ilya. Ilya was probably still resisting. She’d never give in. She had the heart of a fighter. His dream was guilt. Guilt that he’d given up, that he’d turned informant, when his friend would never put her own life ahead of her convictions.

Had they told her that he’d broken? Would they go easier on her now? It was something to hope for. What would she think of him, once she found out? Would she despise him? Hate him?

And Kade? Wats? What would they think of him?

He’d always had the easy life. Rich parents. Good looks. Success came easy, in school, in music. The Indian golden boy. Boy wonder scientist by day, hot DJ by night.

And the women. God, how he loved women. And they’d loved him. Woman after woman after woman. He could leave a club most weekend nights with a party girl, sometimes two. He’d jerked himself off to sleep so often the first few weeks here, calling up memories of their faces, their bodies, the kinky things they’d done for him. Memories remembered naturally. Memories he’d recorded with Nexus, without ever asking their permissions.

Such an easy life. Rangan Shankari, international playboy.

Yeah, right.

He was pathetic, he saw now. What had he ever done for anyone else? He’d lived his whole life as a taker. Taking money from Mom and Dad. Taking sex from girls whose names he barely remembered, girls that he honestly didn’t give a fuck about, except that they were hot and fun in bed and good for his rep.

The only thing he’d ever done that was worth a damn was Nexus. His one impact on the world. And had he fought for that? When they’d busted the party in SF he tried to run. And now, in this stinking cell, they’d given him a second chance. He could show
this time
that he had the strength of his convictions. But no. They tightened the screws a bit and he folded, just like that.

What did it even matter that he was going to die here? His whole life was a self-obsessed joke. He’d been so goddamn self-centered that he might as well not have existed at all.

Fucking pathetic.

Fuck!

Rangan slammed his hand against the concrete wall of his cell and then swore as he felt the pain.