System Seven (43 page)

Hell.
The garbage truck of the universe, coming to clean up at the wrong damn
time. Nothing could touch it, nothing could stop it, and nothing could
communicate with it. If you were cast-off, you were scooped up. Just a cosmic energy
collector, automatic and inconsequential. He’d long ago lost interest in the
ethereal presence others deemed as God’s Gatekeeper. To see God in it was just
leftover cultural programming. The universe simply liked to keep a clean house.
Nothing mystical in that.

He sipped from his cup.
The Korda were working a bold plan, using both targets at once. The AGT teams
were in synch now, aware of the bender’s bizarre flight and ready to track his
approach to the clinic.

Kaiya remained firmly
cornered but still free within her own meta, the best way to attract Gerrit. Of
course, leaving her free also left her open to collection by Eden. To steal her
back now would complicate everything – extend the conflict and allow room for
failure. The bender and Gerrit had to be contained or eliminated.

“Prepare to retrieve
her and the boy but only at the last possible mark, is that clear? I want that
clear
.”

• • •

The vast bed of
Tokyo’s lights spilled to the horizon once more, a nuclear-powered array of
LED, florescent, mercury, and neon. Arrival over the city came as a sensory
rush compared to the nature he’d traveled through to get there. Below, avenues
crawled with activity, full of cars, busses, and people. The city itself
pulsed, a breathing ocean of consciousness – not a lucid dream, but in reality.

The GPS indicated
arrival at the checkpoint, a quarter mile below. He searched for and found a
white and red light blinking erratically atop a building. He lined up and
descended rapidly, a tiny shadow slipping from the sky. He set down near a
table and turned off the flashing strobe light. After his eyes adjusted, he
peered around. Air conditioners and solar panels mixed with organic landscaping
to create an odd ensemble. In one corner a shallow koi pond complimented a rock
garden. Plenty of shadows to hide in. He felt alone, no hint of meta nearby. If
the old man was there he was damn good at hiding himself.

He took off the helmet
and ran a hand through his hair. Six thousand miles in just over two hours.
Amazement dimmed under the weight of what might come next. The GPS showed ten
miles to the clinic. Butterflies swarmed at the thought of facing armed guards
– a sickening flurry of wings scratching his insides. He squeezed the grip of
the Glock at his side. The sooner it was over, the sooner he’d know if there
was a chance to be with Kaiya again.

He took cover under an
awning near the koi pond and waited, helmet in hand. Hopefully no one came out
for a smoke or a stroll before the old man arrived. At the moment, he couldn’t
recall a word of Japanese except for one:
kamikaze
.

• • •

Evening settled on the
compact mid-rises of the Kanda Tacho district. Cool air swirled into the tiny balcony six stories up, carrying with it
music from the apartment below.

Noboru pulled on a
Peace cigarette. Japan Tobacco, trendy and typically comforting. Tonight the
irony made him want to choke – he felt nothing of peace. In the narrow street
below, a woman walked back from market with plastic bags like weighted
balloons. She stepped around them as they swung with her gait, her torso
weaving expertly in a practiced system of motion. Again he checked his watch.
Less than two minutes before the mail server would crash. He’d get the text
alert, wait another five, and then call Central Security. He fought rising
nausea. He’d never had to put anyone into the building before, much less two.

The muted ocean sounds
of city traffic reminded him of travel, of escape. He longed to be on the
subway to Shuji’s house instead of working for the Sensei. But he had no choice
– debt required repayment.

Thirty minutes later,
Noboru stood at the entrance to Building E and stared up at the massive bulk of
Tower A, trying not to panic. Clammy palms, bowels loose with fear. Severe
queasiness. Hasty planning. Daring moves.
Still
a good plan
... a new mantra.

Helping some was the
expertise the operatives displayed so far. In the properly branded van, wearing
what he’d ordered, they’d said exactly what he’d instructed them to. Not really
surprising but still impressive. The two carried bulky laptop and equipment
cases, part of the gear they required. More impressive was how they moved and
talked: just like repairmen. Unworried, a bit boastful with their techese
chatter. Trained to mimic the very air of a computer serviceman? To talk the
talk? The Sensei didn’t screw around. They did things right, made things easy
for him. Only they usually gave him more time; never before had action so fast
and risky been required.
Calm
.
Be the calm
. He could almost imagine
that he hadn’t triggered the server failure and that this was a real service
call.

Almost.

Central Security sent
over Mori, an officer cadet Noboru had never seen before. The young cadet
opened the main doors and halted them in the lobby while he powered up the
x-ray machine and wrote on a clipboard. He wasn’t talkative – maybe a sign he
wouldn’t be nosy and push to accompany them. Sometimes they did. Noboru hoped
and re-hoped he wouldn’t insist on coming along. The plan got far more sketchy
if he did.

“Company?”

One of the operatives
answered easily. “J.I. Technical”.

“Names?”

He rattled off their
names.

“Reason for call?
Server?”

“Mail server down. ID 8011.
Two hour response guaranteed.”

The cadet looked at
them before nodding, unimpressed. He turned the clipboard around.

“Sign there. Place
bags on the conveyor, your metal objects in trays. Belt buckles, USB sticks,
gum wrappers, anything metallic.”

Noboru breathed
shallow as the bags slid into the machine’s chamber. One by one, the cadet
inspected the equipment. He peered intently. “Are those power supplies?”

“Yes, they are.” The
Sensei feigned respect at his technical knowledge.

Bags cleared, cell phones
and belts back on, the moment came. The cadet walked around the x-ray machine
and looked to Noboru.

“Call when you are
done. They need to be checked out, as well.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll
call.”

Still a good plan...

Thought has been constantly evolving and we can’t say when
that system began.
- David Bohm, American quantum physicist

A bird’s-eye view
showed the van racing along the A8 headed west towards the ferry, thirty
minutes away. Anki sat in front of the screens watching, sick with worry though
still angry for the danger Johan had created. There were probably a hundred
more appropriate ways to get what he’d wanted but he’d chosen this. She wanted
to say it was out of character but in truth, what did she really know? In this,
Johan was like most others she’d known and had been disappointed by through the
years. Unpredictable, driven by inner needs. Still, he was so much more than
anyone before. There was no denying it or her soul-bound devotion to him. She
would go the distance for him, no matter how far or short it might be.

She’d last seen him
prone in the hidden compartment of the van’s floor, looking too much like a
corpse in a coffin. She wished she’d taken the time to dab the mess of blood
from his split lip before they set off. Now the bràthair were out, working on
his safe transport and also protecting Austin, seen atop a roof in Tokyo on
another screen. From the basement entertainment room of Cullstone, they watched
the flows captured by shùil
.
Sean
focused on the team in the defense ministry building. Cathbad sat with templed
fingers, involved and distant, eyes fixed on the screen relaying Johan’s shùil.
It showed gray except for an occasional glimpse of chaotic patterns and every
so often a tiny island at the eye of a storm.

“Is he stuck or in
trouble?” Anki asked. “I don’t like this.”

“Still waiting as far
as I can tell. For what I don’t know. He knows Austin is ready. The storm is
narrowing quickly.”

“This is all so
bizarre.” Tense as piano wire, she remembered to breathe. “More than I imagined
it would be.”

The barrier between
waking life and nightmare had thinned, so much so it seemed the very air were
ready to shimmer. Both Johan and Austin
were flying on instinct. Everything hinged on their ability to be and do exactly
what was needed. Their inexperience was a dangerous factor.

She turned away to
look for something to ground or at least distract her. Recessed lights softened
the oak-featured room. A billiards table took up one end of the room. The bar’s
backlit drink shelves looked inviting.
To
drown all this away.

She picked up a cue
chalk and examined it, diving into its familiarity. Margaret –
mom
– had loved to play. Sunday mornings
at the pool hall were some of her best childhood memories. She twisted her
thumb in the worn depression of the cube, transferring the colored dust, then
admired the blue shade of her digit. Transferring...
digitally
.

She looked up at the
images on the screens. The videos were fed live, digitally, but from where?
Besides three guards posted outside, they were alone here. Without bràthair,
the imagery had to be flowing over networks to reach Cullstone.

She went to Sean with
her question. “Isn’t it risky? So many encrypted streams could draw attention.
Aren’t you worried about Totem tracing them here?”

Cathbad and Sean
looked at her. She caught something dark from them both.

Cathbad stood. “There
are no transmission lines. It’s a closed system. Here in Cullstone.”

“Oh? Then where are
the bràthair?” Something wasn’t right, he was hiding something. Shielding out
of concern for her. Sean turned back to the screens, already refocused.

“We haven’t had time
to properly introduce you to everyone on our team here, Anki. I wouldn’t say
this moment is ideal for it, but I can’t see holding off, especially now that
you’ve sensed what you have. We’ll be a few minutes, Sean.”

He walked to the bar
and behind it, to the narrow door of the wine cellar.

“Follow me, please.”

They descended into a
cool room with a low ceiling and more recessed lights. Six rows of wooden racks
stood filled with vino. Cathbad walked to the far right row and followed it
back. He knelt and removed a single bottle. Unscrewing a thin false bottom
revealed a membrane keypad. He entered several digits before putting it back
together and in its place.

He stood and turned to
the opposite side of the row, along the wall. “As you recall, the brain is the
only organ directly involved in the marriage of the meta to this world.” He
gingerly pulled on a rack which slid towards him on hidden casters. He pushed
it off to one side to expose the wall. He pressed against it and the entire
section swung inward. A steady hum escaped into the cellar. He turned to her,
blocking the view beyond.

“You’re aware our
sciences have allowed us to stem the pace of aging. Unfortunately, we all
eventually yield. One of the triumphs in our mimicry of Comannda technology is
that of the preservation and sustainment of the brain well after the body’s
other systems have failed. You are about to meet seventeen souls who
volunteered to ‘stay on’, as it were, in the service of the Runa Korda.”

He stepped aside and
gestured to a narrow room that reminded her of the aquariums of Den Helder’s
pet shop.

Along a wall the glow
from two rows of tanks filled the space. Each tank contained a human brain,
complete with stem, suspended in a black frame. Wires ran in and out at various
points.

Anki gasped. Over a
dozen sets of eyes peered in her direction, each orb in its own stand braced in
a collar of sorts, with movement facilitated by micro motors tensioning lines
attached to the collar. Optic nerves trailed back into gray mass. LCD monitors
lined the opposite wall.

“My God...”

“Cullstone’s own
bràthair. Take a moment, probe them. You will see they are here of their own
volition.”

It was true. Each was
content, in control, though most were distant, involved, as if dreaming or
working. One in particular, the last one on the bottom row, was definitely
present in the room with her. Drawn to it, she stepped closer and gasped.
Gray-green eyes followed her approach. The draw intensified. Obviously the
yearning to connect was not just her own.

She squatted. Eyes
stared as if drilling to find comprehension she had yet to achieve. She could
only bat at threads of intuition, some stronger than others.

“This one knows about
my mother.”

“Yes he does, and
about a great many things,” he said, measuring her reaction. “He wants to share
with you. Sit, rest. Allow him in. You are in good company.” He started to
leave then stopped. “What you learn is for you alone, for now. Austin and Johan
don’t need the added burden right now. One crisis level at a time.”

Anki nodded. Cathbad
left then, closing the door behind him.

Tank lamps reflected
off the submerged organs to cast a ghoulish light. Circulating pumps and
equipment fans hummed. The eyes watched, waiting. Slowly, she felt a change in
vibration, a signal of someone extending. She closed her eyes and relaxed,
feeling the presence and allowing it to pass her outer firewalls. It was male
and had a familiar quality that made trusting easier.

His arrival brought
the merging, something only she and Johan had shared at that level. Her heart
beat soundly, a physical reminder of what was happening. Here, the male
presented much differently, more paternal and wise. His intention to paint a
world dream preceded the gentle movement away from the narrow room. She allowed
herself to be led.

From the comforting
cradle of his mind, he spoke to her in a voice as spacious and warm as a summer
sky.

Anki, no matter what you learn from me, promise
that you will never forget how much good is still possible in this world. And
remember how much I love you, your mother, and all of humanity.

It fit, then.

“Father?”

Yes, Anki. You have questions but let me guide
you now. There are things you need to know. You are strong, but some of this
will challenge you.

• • •

Cathbad returned from
the cellar and went to the screens.

Sean pointed. “The
Shiru team is at third basement. They’re attempting the physical connection.”

“What’s it look like?”
Cathbad asked.

“All the Ethernet
ports to the backbone are full, either in use or linked through a loopback to
detect access. No open fiber switch ports, either. To add Bootstrap they’ll
need to tap either the copper or fiber.”

“Audio up, please.”
Cathbad sat near the screens.

A monotone narrative
by the bràthair provided a running translation over the faint and chaotic audio
interpretations of the shùil technology.
“–requires physically splitting the cable open to touch the copper wires. Time
consuming and messy. Yoshito is saying the fiber tap is less noticeable,
faster, and everyone agrees. However, light loss is detectable if they are
monitoring it–”

“Use the fiber tap,”
Sean urged.

A close-up showed his
message made it through. A clamping device went over the exposed fiber length
and an intercept fiber was introduced to tap the light signals.

The bràthair intoned,
“Coupling is successful. The device is receiving encrypted data. Bootstrap will
attempt to read it now.”

Several moments later
the Shiru team pumped the air with their fists.

“That’s it,” Sean
said, “Soldado did it. The game’s on. It’s finally on.”

Cathbad leaned back
and took in the other screen. “Johan hasn’t moved yet.” The weight of
responsibility pulled at his bones, at his soul. The fate of Tokyo, the most
populated city in the world, hung in the balance. They
had
to locate the nuke.

He prayed to the Lord
of the Wildwood, a most sincere and heartfelt prayer for success.

• • •

Marik arrived back
from a long day spent at Toshiba replacing five server motherboards all fried
from a power line fault. The extra hour to isolate a damaged CPU dragged right
over his plans with Nomaai. If he hurried, the night might be salvageable.
Gates to the building’s garage rolled open and he immediately noticed two blank
parking spots – one too many.

Inside the office, the
missing van’s keys hung in the lockbox. The dispatch log showed nothing and a
call to Bebe confirmed what he had feared: one of J.I. Technical’s vans had
been stolen.

• • •

Colorful and complex,
the user interface for Soldado’s Bootstrap program filled both laptop screens.
The technicians mumbled quietly to each other, tapping madly one moment, frozen
the next, deep into the screens.

“They are stacked,
modular. Look at the code groupings! Start with the H group, there. Route them
to the filter.”

“Keywords ready. We
can only sample so much, though.”

“Preview, open the
preview window – good.
There
.”

Both technicians
gazed, a look of nearly religious awe on their faces.

“Good God, look at the
amount of data. He was right. It’s already building the parsing nodes.”

Soldado’s retro-AI
worm, Q, did exactly what it was designed to, recognizing and querying the
constructs formed in the network stream, a passive mapping of content type and
relationships. It was learning the form and method of Totem’s transport
protocols in order to extract meaningful representation of the data. The
results were served up to the Shiru team’s interface.

“Try another group,
this looks like diplomatic intelligence. Route B group.”

Noboru grew
increasingly nervous. He asked whether they were going to search the whole
alphabet.

“Relax, Noboru. We are
within parameters.”

“Of course, of course.
But please, all possible haste!”

They continued to pore
over the screens. “These appear operational in nature. The series refer to
notations on the J group, I’m almost certain. Switch to J.”

Noboru walked to the
wall and sat down. The team was good but now they seemed about to take a long,
long time. If security came, he would fall over, as if knocked unconscious, an
unwilling victim. If by some miracle they got out undetected, this would be the
last job, the last risk. A familiar oath, but this time...

• • •

Director Tomov gazed
at the storm closing in on Kaiya. Eden was in a stable approach, its intensity
felt and gauged by rangers familiar with the force.

“Prepare to grab
them,” he ordered.

“Signus Alpha is ready
to grab. Safe estimate shows free zone ends in three minutes fifty.”

No sign of their
rescuer. Disappointment didn’t begin to describe it. Fourteen panels linked,
ready to shut down the target, and Gerrit hadn’t made it. Not a ripple or a
whiff of him.

“Grab in three, then.
Slide the time as necessary. Update and recap the bender’s status.”

“No change, sir. He
hasn’t been seen.”

Comms312 interrupted.
“Sir, Oscar has alerted to a probable breach to the VisCom network at the
defense ministry in Ichigaya.”