The Unincorporated Future (21 page)

The woman sat surrounded by three empty bottles and a mountain of empty upside-down shot glasses. The droids working the bar had long since given up trying to either refill or replace the empty glasses. Further, they’d been ordered to leave the bottles, once finished. The woman, over years of prescription, had made it patently clear she wished to keep a visual accounting of her slide into depredation, and other than begrudging her the small part of the bar she took up to do it, no one seemed to complain.

“Hello, Nadine,” a dulcet voice said.

Nadine slowly swung her head around, and her bloodshot eyes registered surprise. Sitting next to her on the barstool was a rather ordinary-looking woman who Nadine would swear had not been there even moments before. A second later, Nadine, using her forearms as a pillow, rested her forehead on the bar.

“Who da fick aar ooh?” she burbled into the polished oak counter.

The stranger sighed with the slightest hint of annoyance and then applied a small patch matching the drunkard’s skin tone to her exposed forearm. Less than one minute later, Nadine’s eyes widened and now her previous slouched figure had unfurled itself like a cobra arching for attack.

“A sober patch?” she growled. “By Damsah’s left nut, what did I ever do to you that you’d fuck me with a sober patch?”

The woman smiled back acidly. “You know what you’ve done to me, Nadine. It’s the same thing you did to yourself. It’s the reason for”—the woman’s eyes indicated the copious amount of shot glasses—“that.”

Nadine’s eyes grew larger as a look of fear passed over her face. She did not yell at the woman or attempt to strike her. Instead, she reached over the bar and grabbed the first bottle she saw. Without even looking at the label, she twisted open the top and prepared to upend the contents down her throat.

The stranger put her hand over the bottle’s mouth. “You won’t find salvation in there, Nadine, and you know it.”

“And I suppose you’ve got a place where I will?” she asked with a knowing leer.

The woman didn’t answer.

“Knew it. Fucking perv.”

The stranger slapped a thin rectangular crystal onto the surface of the bar. “This is a ticket for a coach class accommodation on the
Martian Express,
the fastest civilian transport in the UHF. You want salvation? You’ll find it on Mars. Or you can stay here in the hell you so richly deserve.”

Nadine viewed the crystal with some trepidation, but her hand, almost of its own free will, slid across the top of the bar and picked it up. Her eyes darted fearfully from the bottle in one hand to the ticket in the other. Finally, she looked up at the stranger. “What’s … what’s on Mars?”

“Your sister, Nadine.”

Before the flabbergasted sibling could even register a protest, the stranger had disappeared into the already swelling crowd.

UHF Capitol
Burroughs
Mars

Once again, Neela Harper had stayed out late “helping” Hektor—and once again, she’d been late getting back to her apartment. Had she truly given it much thought, she would’ve realized it had been a while since the President actually asked for her advice on problems of state.

The only thing she had done of professional versus sexual service was that business with Sandra O’Toole’s family, and Neela did not want to think about that. And like most things she didn’t like to think about, she let it drift from her thoughts.

Lately when he called on her, it was only because he was “lonely” and “troubled,” and that meant only one thing. And even that wouldn’t have been so bad except for the fact that their recent trysts had become less about sex and more about debasement—particularly hers. But she knew,
just knew
Hektor was a good man at heart and humanity needed him if the war was to end as soon as possible. She was prepared to do her part just like everybody else, but was still secretly glad when he hadn’t asked her to stay longer.

Lately she’d come to love her one-bedroom apartment in Burroughs. It was not in the best part of town, though not in the worst either. It was in a section that was mainly used by midlevel bureaucrats who, for various reasons, chose not to reside with their families. Though she was wealthy enough to live wherever she pleased, being among “the people” pleased her most. Perhaps when the war was over, she’d give in to her baser instincts and purchase a fluid property, but for now the little space felt like home. She’d filled it with plants and simple furniture created from old-fashioned magnetic adhesion parts made to look like cherry wood. She’d built her big four-poster bed with plenty of drawers beneath. Though it would take time to fill them all, choosing each item as the universe saw fit to present was part of the fun. And she had plenty of time.

She kicked off her shoes, allowed a deep yawn, stretching her arms over her head, and was just about to flop into bed when the apartment announced a visitor.

Neela rolled her eyes. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“At this hour?”

“At this hour.”

Neela sighed. “Who is it?”

“Wish I could say. The whole building’s still infected.”

“I thought they fixed that bug last week.”

“Apparently not.”

Neela looked at her old-fashioned phosphorous clock on the wall and her warm and inviting bed, seriously debating whether or not to tell the uninvited guest to piss off.

Seconds later, she went to the front door and checked the security vid. A smile lit up her face when she saw who it was. “Nadine! Amanda!” she exclaimed. “Come in, come in.”

The two women entered and were each greeted by a warm hug, but neither one of them seemed glad to be there.

Neela’s eyes narrowed and her head tipped slightly sideways. “All right, who died?”

Nadine looked at her sister and then turned to Amanda. “Do we really have to? I mean just look at her.” Nadine pointedly looked toward her sister. “This isn’t so bad, is it?”

Amanda’s face grew taut. “If someone had done that to you”—her irises seemed to blaze in azure flames—“wouldn’t you want to be yourself again?” She swept farther into the apartment, just behind Neela. “Even if only for an hour?”

Neela was shocked to see Nadine suddenly burst into tears.
“Hello,”
insisted Neela, “I’m right here.”

“No, child,” she heard Amanda say from right behind her, “you’re not.” She then felt a small pressure on the back of her neck and whirled around to face her friend holding a hypo in her hand. There were tears in Amanda’s eyes as well. Neela began to go faint, and as she did, she heard the soothing denouement of her best friend’s last words. “And you haven’t been for a long, long time.”

And then Neela Harper’s shadow was gone forever.

*   *   *

Amanda looked at the figure on the floor and spoke perfunctorily. “Quit crying, and help me get her to the couch.”

“Maybe she’s not really gone,” said Nadine, still sobbing as she easily—by virtue of having just arrived from Earth’s 1 g environment—hoisted her sister to where Amanda had pointed.

Her suggestion was met with silence.

“The evidence … it … it could be wrong.” Nadine straightened Neela’s legs on the couch as she looked back toward Amanda for salvation.

“She was gone the moment you delivered her into Angela Wong’s hands, care of Hektor Sambianco. You knew it was true before I showed you the evidence you now question. If you had any real doubt, you would’ve already turned me in.” Amanda closed in on the crying woman. “When was the last time you visited your dear little sister? When was the last time you even called or wrote to her? When, Nadine, did you realize that that husk—” Amanda savagely grabbed the sobbing woman by the hair and forced her to look at the inert form on the couch. “—was not your sister, but Hektor Sambianco’s fuck toy! ’Cause it sure as shit wasn’t when I called on you for a visit two days ago. So when was it, Nadine?”

“Alhambra.” Nadine sobbed quietly. “When she made an excuse for Alhambra. That’s when I knew.”

“Then that’s your evidence. This creature was made by and for Hektor Sambianco. I condemn this shadow to death on the orders of those who are, at best, the lesser of two evils. But
you
brought this parody”—Amanda looked toward Neela’s body—“into our universe.” She then looked back at Nadine. “And now you’ll take her out of it.”

Amanda reached into her backpack. “We don’t have much time.” She took out a portable cranial scanner and a modified VR headset and placed them on the small table near the couch. She reached in once more and pulled out some vials.

“Listen closely. I’m going to make a detailed scan of Neela’s
current
neural pathways. Then I’m going to do an overlay.”

“Of what?”

“Of her former pathways. That unit”—her head motioned to the cranial scanner—“has in its flash memory a scan taken of Neela before…” Amanda didn’t finish her words; she just pursed her lips and stared accusingly at Nadine. Amanda exhaled and continued. “The modified rig will, in essence, disconnect her brain from her body. Then comes the fun part.” Amanda’s sarcasm was tinged with sadness. “These vials”—she opened her palm—“contain neuronans.”

Nadine shook her head in confusion.

“Nanites programmed for a specific neurological task. When given the overlay of what Neela
Cord
was as opposed what Neela
Harper
is”—Amanda’s eyes grew hard again—“well, they’ll work very hard and very quickly to reorient her brain to what it once was. Included in the surgery, if you like, will be a brief explanation of everything that’s happened since the psyche audit.”

“But her pathways will decompile. She’ll … she’ll die.”

“Yes,” answered Amanda without the slightest trace of emotion. “From the time of injection, she’ll live for approximately one hour, after which she’ll suffer a psychotic break. It’s possible her heart will stop beating, so she may get lucky and die. It will, I can assure you, be as permanent a death as if someone had shot her with a Neurolizer at point-blank range.”

Amanda smiled sadly as she stared past Nadine.

“You should know I watched her die, day by day—your sister, your beautiful, wonderful Neela. She and I could’ve been friends. Do you know how few friends I have in this world? But she … she left me, bit by psyche-audited bit till there was nothing left but a cunt for Hektor Sambianco to screw and a propaganda machine for the UHF to exploit. I read about how people before the Grand Collapse used to watch their loved ones slip away from them due to the ravages of cancer. I couldn’t imagine it, no matter how hard I tried. How could someone slip away? What did that even mean? Well, now I know. Now I feel the hollowed-out pit of despair in my chest as surely as if Neela had been taken from me by the cancer.”

Amanda watched as her sorrow was reflected in Nadine’s eyes.

“As soon as I realized what was going on, I made
my
choice. From that day forward, I had to pretend that this—” Amanda once again looked over to Neela and grimaced. “—
thing
was my friend. And I had to pretend that I enjoyed sleeping with her necrophiliac boyfriend. And I had to pretend that the government I’d defended was the harbinger of all that was good in the world. And you have the gall to say to me that she’ll die? Oh, honey,” Amanda said, her rage finally spent, “don’t you get it? I can’t kill her,
because you already did
.”

The vials in her hand began to glow. “And now you’re going to bring her back.”

“For an hour,” whispered Nadine.

“Yes, for an hour. But you tell me, Nadine. Would Neela have wanted one hour of her life back or centuries as Hektor’s bitch—anyone’s bitch, for that matter?”

“Can I ask you one last question?”

Amanda nodded.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I owe her.”

“I meant for me.”

“I’ve done my part, Nadine. But Neela, the Neela I never really knew, I think she would’ve wanted you to do yours.”

Nadine’s mouth formed a straight, stiff line across her face. She wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded respectfully.

“Good,” Amanda said, getting up and heading for the door. “You get one last shot at redemption. Don’t blow it.”

And with that, she was gone.

*   *   *

Making sure to follow the included instructions carefully, Nadine picked up the first vial and then, moments later, put it back down. If she couldn’t control the tremor in her hand, she wouldn’t be able to complete the task. When she did finally manage to inject it into her sister’s neck, the other two injections followed more surely and quickly.

*   *   *

Neela slowly came to. But something was different. She remembered what she did that evening, working late, the visitors … Amanda … her sister …
her sister.

And then she remembered: Justin, the Unincorporated Man and the only man she’d ever loved, was dead and … and …
Hektor. What have I done?
her mind wailed. She turned her head and vomited onto the floor and then vomited again, only with dry heaves. Then she wiped the detritus from her mouth with her sleeve. She took deep, labored breaths as five years of suppressed information began slipping back into her consciousness. She suddenly bolted upright into a sitting position, screaming with a primal rage that tore her throat raw. She took a few more deep breathes, slowly lifted her head, saw Nadine … and lunged. Even though Nadine was larger and, by virtue of her Earth-conditioned muscles, stronger, she made no attempt to resist her sister’s attack. Neela smashed into her and they both fell slowly to the floor in the Martian gravity, the smaller sister smashing blow after blow into her larger sibling. Nadine remained still, refusing to defend herself as tears flowed from her eyes.