Sidespace (40 page)

“This energy signature—why is it active? Is it powering something?”

Mia’s eyes slid away from him as she pivoted to the viewport. He couldn’t read emotion in those eccentric, shining irises, but he was left with the unmistakable sense there had been pain in her face.

“Is it powering something?”

The young man on the couch let out a groan. “It’s powering
her
, soldier-man, so take care not to turn it off.”

Malcolm’s gaze shot to the man, but he had thrown his head back on the cushion once more and closed his eyes. Malcolm took several steps toward Mia, who had not outwardly reacted to the statement and continued to focus on the stars outside. “Is that true?”

The ripple of her hair was the primary indicator of her quick, miniscule nod.

He didn’t understand. Had they done something to her while she lay helpless in a coma? Did it have something to do with her connection to the Artificial? Of course it did, it must. But what could it possibly mean? Maybe Dr. Canivon had been right to insult his intellect.

He swallowed heavily. “What
are
you?”

She whipped around at that. “
Me
. Whatever else I am, I’m still a person, and the same person I was before all of this. It just so happens I can no longer walk and talk without a bit of help from the Artificial.”

The glow in her eyes seemed far stranger and otherworldly now. He told himself it was his imagination, brought on by a shift in his perception of her. “Because of the attack, and the stroke you suffered.”

A more resolute nod. “I am alive, and I am me…but there are a few strings attached. That’s all.”

“Is this why Dr. Canivon is here?”

“No.”

He frowned. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I told you—for your own sake, don’t get involved. Now please, every minute you stand here
pushing
, you’re putting us in greater danger.” She glared at him with a measure of the dynamism he remembered from Romane. “Send Abigail in.”

He stared at her for a beat, then exhaled. “Yes, ma’am.” He turned on a heel and all but marched out, the whole time vowing to himself this was not the end of the matter.

Abigail scrutinized Devon with clinical rigor—not using tools, but solely with her eyes.

She noted the lines at the corner of his eyelids and the faint prominence of blood vessels throughout the sclera, both of which suggested sleep deprivation. She detected no other external symptoms of distress, however. His skin wasn’t flush or sweating. His breathing was normal. His pupils weren’t dilated nor his gaze jerky. He was fidgeting, but he’d always fidgeted.

On the whole he looked to be holding himself together surprisingly well in the face of the severing of his connection to Annie. She understood this hadn’t been true in the immediate aftermath, which was the source of her concern. Other considerations aside, she couldn’t in good conscience do what he asked of her if he remained in a heightened state of anxiety, panic or stress such that it impaired his decision-making ability.

When she hadn’t spoken for several seconds, Mia cleared her throat. “We brought Vii with us, because we didn’t know if you…would be making it back to Vancouver, and we didn’t want to leave her to the whims of the Military Oversight Committee, or even EASC for that matter. But obviously you can take her with you.”

She shifted her attention to Mia, still in physician mode. The woman had made a rapid recovery and now showed no visible signs of having spent the last seven months in a coma. Ideally she’d like to see at least one more dynamic neural scan, but it didn’t appear further tests were going to be possible. And she didn’t care for the idea of sending Mia off on her own while the woman depended on the Artificial for the most basic waking functionality, but this too now seemed out of her control.

“We can talk about Vii later. Annie, how confident are you this displacement will be successful?”

‘Seventy-eight percent, Dr. Canivon. You’ve done much of the research yourself, and I suspect you already believed it was feasible.’

“Early-stage research. Devon, there is a non-negligible chance this procedure will overload your brain function, killing both you and the essence of Annie in the process.”

 He shook his head firmly, and his stare carried an uncommon level of vehemence. “It’ll work. Annie and I have adapted to one another more than anyone realizes these last months.”

Not more than
she
realized, but now wasn’t the time to point it out. What they were proposing represented not merely an extension of what had been done in Noetica, but a transformation above and beyond it.

Still, with the implants, bridge and ware in place on both ends, her skills were only required due to the damage the clumsy attack routine and firewall had inflicted; from a process perspective it was a simple matter. From every other perspective it promised staggering implications.

And if it worked, she wouldn’t be able to study the results, because Devon was being forced to run. Her bitterness at the Alliance grew another notch, now surely surpassing its previous height before her resignation over a decade ago.

She didn’t voice any of this, for she kept her own counsel in all things, and instead focused on the pragmatic. “Annie, are you positive you’re ready to abandon your databanks, top-level access to classified information and your prestigious role at EASC?”

‘What I leave behind will be sufficient to serve the Earth Alliance. They have failed to utilize the full extent of my potential since the Metigens were defeated and are unlikely to miss what I take with me.’

She smiled. “A valid analysis.” In truth the response proved better than any test she might conduct that Annie was ready for this. Was Devon? He unquestionably acted as if he was ready for it. She had no way to know for certain, but so long as he was physically and mentally healthy she could find no justification to deny him the choice.

“Very well. I assume you brought the necessary equipment?”

Mia opened one of the bags sitting beside the couch. “We’ve got Devon’s Prevo imaging and your ware sanitizer and programmer. Oh, and a new quantum I/O film and laser scalpel—” she winked at Devon “—in case you need to cut him open.”

“Hopefully that won’t be required. I doubt such a crude hack was able to do irreparable damage to the hardware.” She scanned the room, but located no suitable surface. “Remove the seat cushions from one of the couches and place them on the table. Devon you’ll need to lie on them, face-down. To be safe, I’m going to put you under for this.”

She cleared her throat. “Annie, once I repair the ware damage and remove the firewall, it will be up to you to make this happen.”

Mia stared out the viewport at Pandora’s rose-and-whiskey profile until her vision, Artificial-enhanced though it was, blurred from the strain of overuse.

Everything was in order and ready for their departure. She’d reached out to Noah before they left Earth. She hadn’t told him all the details, but she’d told him enough for him to agree she needed to leave, then get worried, then offer up a variety of resources and connections for their use. As a result, she now had a list of contacts on Pandora for Devon, including people he could go to for an apartment and a comprehensive false identity—people who wouldn’t ask questions.

Devon had agreed it was safest for them to split up for now. Two targets were harder to track than one, and the separation would distribute their activities across a broader range of networks. He planned to disappear into Pandora’s vast warenut underground.

She worried about him. She was used to looking out for herself, but she couldn’t impart to him the lifetime of lessons she’d learned through brutal experience—not in the little time they’d had since deciding to run. So she’d simply have to trust him.

As for her…well, she had other plans.

She was going home.

Part of her was happy to be returning to Romane, but at the same time she was a little apprehensive about it. How much would have changed in the intervening months while she slept? Would it still feel like home at all?

She glanced behind her, but nothing had changed. Devon was still out. As Abigail had departed and Annie was now offline, there was no way to find out how long he would remain so.

She went over to one of the chairs, dragged it to the viewport and sat down. Then she removed the disk containing Caleb’s message from her bag and placed her fingertip on it to retrieve the data.

She closed her eyes.

He was sitting on a couch, leaning forward with his elbows propped on his knees. And he was smiling.

“If you’re watching this, it means you’re awake, so we’ll move forward under that assumption. What am I saying? Of course you’re awake—it’s not as if anything in the galaxy can keep you under for long.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you woke up. But you didn’t need me to be there, just like you don’t need me to protect you in any way or from any thing. I’ve known this ever since that night thirteen years ago when I watched you retake your life and your freedom from Eli Baca by the point of a blade. You can save the galaxy and be a badass while doing so without my help.”

His eyes darkened noticeably, though the smile remained in place. “I don’t know how long we’ll be gone—I don’t know where this journey is going to take us. You and I have different paths to walk, which is how it should be. But when you wake up—which happens to be now—don’t you dare let them cow you into submission. Believe it or not, I happen to think your destiny wasn’t to help defeat the Metigens. I think your destiny still lies ahead of you.

“So do what you’ve always done—fight, scrape and claw your way through, obstacles be damned, to get to what you want. To claim what’s rightfully yours. Wherever and whatever that is. If you’re forced to topple a few governments or cartels along the way, they’ll understand. You’re a hero now—don’t let anyone forget it.

“If you get in a jam, let Noah help you out—he has some interesting and rather influential new friends these days. And a final piece of advice? You can trust Miriam Solovy, but you need to be honest with her. I’m not sure how or why it might matter, but if it should become relevant, and if you find yourself in need of an ally…keep her in mind.”

He shifted on the couch and took a deep breath. “So take care of yourself. Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine…and if we’re not, at least it will be for interesting reasons. Alex says ‘hi’—or she did before she left to go meet her mother for lunch. It’s a goodbye lunch, although Miriam doesn’t know that. I hope to have some good stories to tell when I see you again—which I will. Until then.”

He gave her a final enchanting smile, and the recording ended.

Mia stretched out, wound her hands behind her head and sank deeper into the chair.

In retrospect, perhaps she should have watched the message
before
she stole multiple Artificials, Devon and herself out from under Miriam Solovy.

36

EARTH

EASC
H
EADQUARTERS (
S
PECIAL
P
ROJECTS)

M
IRIAM STARED AT THE EMPTY LAB WHERE
until this evening an Artificial had resided. The matching room on the opposite side of the lab was similarly devoid of its former resident.

Devon’s office had been cleaned out, and Mia hadn’t visited her room at EASC Lodging in forty-four hours. Neither of them had passed through any security checkpoint on the Island in the last day. A skilled feat, even for individuals as clever as they undeniably were.

The entire incident had been executed so skillfully, in fact, that no one had realized anything was amiss until the early-shift tech officer had reported for duty at the lab fifteen minutes ago.

Most curious indeed.