V. Moody's Blog, page 26

Book 2 – 27: Main Event

Third Quadrant.

Planet Enaya.

The White Palace.

Control Room.

 

The metal band Ubik had placed on his head like a crown tingled. There was no direct neural connection, but Ubik could feel the pulses of electricity firing through his temples into his brain. It allowed him to see the room as it was meant to be seen.

An overlay indicated what every button, switch and readout was for, how to use it and what its current status was, updated in real-time.

Blue text filled up Ubik’s vision, and then faded when he shifted his focus. Red text flashed to call his attention to something. Green text informed him of active systems. Orange text warned him of operations coming to an end. Purple text alerted him to countermeasures that were ready to deploy.

All this hand-holding probably wasn’t necessary once you were familiar with the network, but it made it a lot easier for a first time user. There was still a lot to take in. But unlike the Central Authority infodump he had endured, this was designed to be mastered over time. The metal band was a training tool. The network had been built so a child could learn it.

The Seneca ship on the screen was impressively outfitted. It was heavily armed and shielded. It would take a serious amount of firepower to put even a small dent in its side, unless you happened to have a detailed breakdown of every onboard system and component.

As it happened, Ubik had exactly such a breakdown. Just by looking at a part of the ship, the network gave him exact data on what it did, its current condition, and its weaknesses to attack.

“I love this,” said Ubik. “I am so going to make one of these.”

“You faked the destruction of a Seneca warship,” said Fig. “You put the whole world under a death sentence. You misled the Seneca High Command… or were they part of this?”

Mackus said nothing. His face was a blank slate, calculating his options. Ubik found it very funny. He had already calculated the available options, he knew Mackus was seeing one dead end after another.

“It’s a good thing I’m here,” said Ubik, grinning. “You two would have strung this out for days. You set up the Seneca explosion to trick Fig. But Fig’s known you since he was born, he knows how you think. No way would he believe you were going to hand over control to him, no matter what the threat. But you knew Fig would be suspicious, so obviously you would take that into account and give him something to latch onto. But Fig would be expecting you to—”

“Alright, alright,” said PT, “we get the idea. You’re giving me a headache.”

“Your problem,” said Ubik to Mackus, “is you think too simple. You’re one of those ‘shortest distance between two points’ kind of guys.”

“You think the problem was his plan was too simple?” said PT. “What am I saying? Compared to one of your plans, it’s completely transparent.”

“Who are you people?” said Mackus, his voice quiet and controlled.

The main screen changed from a view of the Seneca ship to a view of a very grim-looking Seneca officer.

“What have you done, Mackus?” she said. She didn’t seem very happy.

“Hello,” said Ubik brightly. “I wouldn’t prime those forward artillery placements if I were you. If I hit them between the third and fourth segment breaks, your whole front section will detach. We should talk later, I can fix most of the issues for a very reasonable price.”

The woman’s face became grimmer, which Ubik hadn’t thought possible.

“General Sway,” said Mackus, “this is unfortunate, but not irreparable.”

“Indeed,” said General Sway. Her gaze switched to Fig. “Unfortunate.”

“You have broken several Seneca statutes,” said Fig. “Even if they gave consent for this mission, they’ll never admit it. There is no fixing this for you, Devora.”

There was a slight twitch in the general’s left eye. “You are correct, Figaro. But I can clean up this mess. For the Corps.”

“No,” said Mackus. “This is salvageable!”

The consensus seemed to be that General Sway intended to wipe the slate clean. No one would know what happened here, no one would know who was to blame. A noble sacrifice by the Corps, for the Corps.

Ubik started giggling. “I like your confidence, Devora. You really think you can still achieve some kind of victory.”

General Sway scowled. “Has he gone mad?”

“It’s hard to tell,” said PT.

“It’s under consideration,” said Fig.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the loony one,” said Ubik. “Could a crazy person do this, though?”

Everyone stopped and waited. Nothing happened, or at least didn’t appear to.

“What did you do?” said PT.

“Really? Do you even have eyes? Look around you.”

Everyone looked at their surroundings, apart from the bald, bearded man. He was staring intently at Ubik.

“Oh,” said Fig. “There’s a forcefield.”

They looked closer and saw the slight refraction of light. The walls, the floor, the ceiling, they were covered in a gloss that hadn’t been there a moment before.

“Exactly,” said Ubik, looking back at the bearded man and giving him a thumbs up. “This is what your dad called the Figaro Protocol, specially designed to counter the Seneca Protocol. There are sixteen billion executables in the network with one common factor — in each of them, Figaro Carmen Ollo is prevented from dying.” He turned his head to look at Fig. “Carmen, huh? Bet your mother came up with that. Anyway, this room is now sealed inside an impenetrable bubble. Nothing gets in or out. The universe could end and we’d still be here.” He turned his attention to the screen. “Open fire on us and the network on the asteroid will destroy you. Attack the asteroid first, and the planetary defence grid will destroy you. Attack both at the same time, and the nearest moon will open fire on you. And that’s just three of the sixteen billion options. I really, really love this. I’m gonna build two of them. Two feels like the minimum you need.”

“You seriously underestimate what the Seneca Corps is capable of,” said General Sway.

“You seriously underestimate what I’m capable of,” said Fig. “The person who trained you also trained me, Devora. Except, she didn’t go easy on me. You will take your ship and leave. Call off the fleet and make up whatever explanation you want — I won’t contradict it. But refuse my offer, and I will release data on your ships and installations. Everyone will know your weaknesses. You will personally be responsible for the end of the Corps.”

“I don’t think so,” said General Sway. “There is no way for you to send out a signal. When we collapse this region of space, nothing will escape. I will be proud to give my life and the life of my crew for the glory—”

She was interrupted by Ubik’s laughter. “There she goes again. Lady, you can’t stop us sending out a galaxy-wide signal, even if you collapse the wormhole and every star in this cluster. You know why? Sixteen billion solutions. Yes, Ramon saw this one coming, too. You know what he did? He set up a corporation. It’s called Node PLC.”

“My father owns Node?” said Fig.

“Founder and sole owner.”

“How did you find that in sixteen billion lines of code?” said PT.

“Oh, it’s more than sixteen billion lines. Anyway, he used it to create a huge broadcasting franchise across the quadrant, built around wrestling, among other things. Didn’t even bother to supervise its growth. Just gave it a mission statement — maximise the pay-per-view revenue stream. That was enough to create the most sophisticated subspace communication array every built. Doesn’t need space to exist to work. I can reach any point in the quadrant in under 0.1 milliseconds. Actually faster than the speed of light, although not really. Mostly shortcuts.” Ubik looked up at the screen and saluted. “Ramon Ollo sends his greetings.”

There was a fury in her eyes that could have laid waste to entire worlds, and probably had. “You have made an enemy of the Corps today.”

“Wait till you see what I’ve got planned for tomorrow,” said Ubik.

“Leave now, Devora,” said Fig. “You were always my mother’s favourite. I don’t want to upset her.”

The screen went blank, then showed the ship again. It turned around, thrusters firing on one side, and then it blasted off.

“You did well, Figaro,” said Mackus. “But you had her completely at your mercy and let her go. She won’t be as forgiving. This is the reason why you aren’t fit to take your father’s place.”

“Mackus, no one is fit to take my father’s place. But the position still belongs to me. Your attempted coup has failed.”

“Unlike you,” said Mackus, “I am not afraid to cross the line when necessary. Ganesh. You know what will happen if anything happens to me...”

Eyes turned to Ganesh, who had been watching quietly. His looked like he was in pain. He took a step towards Fig. Then stopped. He grunted but couldn’t move his feet.

“I apologise,” said Ubik. “Your Delgados are now part of the network.” It was an underhanded thing to do. No man should have control of his Delgados taken away from him.

Ganesh looked down at his feet. Then he pulled his feet out of the boots. He stood there in his socks.

“Didn’t you consider he might do that?” said PT.

“He voluntarily took off his Delgados,” said Ubik. “Why would anyone… Can you beat him?”

“No,” said Fig, backing away. “Mackus is the only one who ever could”

“What about you?”

“Not even close,” said PT.

“Guys, come on, have a little faith in yourselves.”

“Isn’t he in the sixteen billion?” said PT.

“He is,” said Ubik. “But I think I have a better idea.”

“Better than Ramon Ollo?” said PT. “Are you—”

The lights on the boards flashed once. Everyone floated into the air.

“Okay,” said PT. “I like this plan. Can you switch the gravity between zero and point six. Make it a three-second interval.”

Gravity returned, gently bringing everyone down, and then cut out again, sending them bobbing up.

PT tucked in his legs and rotated in mid-air. As gravity returned, he kicked off the floor and ended up standing on the ceiling just as weightlessness returned.

“Nice moves,” said Ganesh.

“Born on a colony ship,” said PT. Gravity kicked in again and PT used it to launch himself at Ganesh.

Ganesh fell backwards, tucked into a somersault, kicked off the wall and flew over PT. “So was I.”

“What?” said Ubik. “That wasn’t in the database?”

Ganesh hit the ceiling with his stockinged feet and pushed off, throwing a small strip of metal ahead of him. He wasn’t aiming at PT or Fig. He was aiming for Ubik.

Ubik was distracted. What distracted him was the metal projectile coming towards him. It was the Delgado logo, taken from the side of Ganesh’s boot. He was about to be killed by the Delgado insignia. The idea of it was just too traumatic for Ubik to react.

The insignia struck him on the head, sending the headband flying off. Ganesh came hurtling in behind it.

“No, no, no,” shouted Ubik. “This isn’t one of the sixteen billion.” He tried to get out of the way but he had fixed his own Delgados to the floor for stability and couldn’t move.

Point-Two struck Ganesh from the side, sending him spinning away before he could reach Ubik.

“Nice moves,” said PT. “A little outdated, though. I don’t think you’ve been keeping up with developments in zero-G tag.” He put a foot on Ubik’s chest and hurled himself upward. He hit the ceiling, bounced off and came down heading away from Ganesh.

As Ganesh repositioned to try for Ubik again, PT twisted so his trajectory curved. He came at Ganesh from behind.

Ganesh tried to shift his weight but he was out of position and could only push PT away, shoving both hands at him.

But PT was expecting the move. Rather than try to block or evade, he grabbed Ganesh’s wrists and pulled him in. He rolled backwards, threw Ganesh over him, and kicked him in the chest, sending him flying across the room.

Mackus was trying to get hold of the metal band. Fig kicked off a wall but the variable gravity was hard for him to manage with any accuracy, and Ganesh was coming directly towards him. Fig held his position above the integration station and waited for Ganesh.

Gravity kicked in, Fig dropped, Ganesh’s momentum kept him flying. Fig planted one foot on the top of the console and sent a sweeping kick at Ganesh. It struck him on the shoulder.

Ganesh twisted in mid-air, copying the move PT had made earlier, and curved through the air, slamming into Mackus who had the metal band in his hand.

Ganesh grabbed Mackus by the waist, spun around him and closed his arms around him from behind, his arm around his neck. There was a sharp snap and Mackus’ head went limp.

Ganesh let him go and Mackus’s body floated in the air for a couple of seconds, and then fell to the ground in a heap.

Everyone else also returned to the ground as Ubik’s hand darted across the main board.

“Good,” said Ubik. “That went very well.” He looked at PT. “You were a bit slow to get it”

“I was acting,” said PT.

“Very convincing,” said Ubik.

“Are you sure the room is sealed?” said Ganesh, looking anxious.

“No signal in or out,” said Ubik.

PT had picked up the metal band and offered it to Ubik.

“Don’t need it anymore,” said Ubik.

“Took me twelve years to get to that point,” said Fig with a sigh. “What now? As soon as you unseal the room, Mackus’ death will trigger whatever failsafe he set up. Ganesh’s family will be killed.”

“Nah,” said Ubik. There was a glimmer across the walls as the forcefield came down. “Out of sixteen billion possibilities, this was actually number nine.”

An image of Mackus appeared in the middle of the room. It solidified so it looked entirely real. The screen showed life signs, all healthy.

“Fake Mackus,” said Ubik. “In case he went rogue and used a dead man switch. This Mackus will live forever.”

“He suspected Mackus all along?” said Ganesh.

“Just a precaution, I think,” said Ubik. “You’re down as number eight.”

“What about my father?” said Fig. “Can you locate him now?”

“No,” said Ubik. “It wasn’t just the warship blocking me, the asteroid isn’t accessible from here. We have to use the network up there.”

“Can’t you use the Node communication array?” said PT.

“Hmm? Oh, I made that up.”

“My father doesn’t own Node?” said Fig.

“No idea,” said Ubik. “Maybe. Sounds possible, doesn’t it?”

Ganesh shook his head. “How does anyone fight him? I can’t tell what he’s going to do next. He’s unreadable.”

“I know,” said Fig.

“Just remember, it’s safest near him, as crazy as that sounds,” said PT. “Although, it still isn’t very safe.”

“Right,” said Ubik, flicking switches across the board. “I’ve called up a ship. A Ramon Ollo prototype — should be fun. Should be waiting on the pad for us.” He stepped over Mackus’ body. “Now, who do I have to kill around here for a sandwich?”

Book 2 – 26: Free Consultation

Third Quadrant.

Planet Enaya.

The White Palace.

 

Point-Two made sure to memorise the route they were taking through the lavish mansion they had been brought to. He had a strong suspicion a quick exit might be required at some point, and knowing which way was out might be useful.

The drone that had met them at the entrance led them through several long hallways. The car that picked them up outside the gift shop had been driverless and he hadn’t seen any people since arriving. It was a little eerie.

Ubik seemed oblivious to the odd emptiness, blinded by his excitement. He wandered aimlessly in front of Point-Two, stopping to examine light switches, backtracking to look at picture frames (not the pictures in them) and generally treating every common fitting as though it was a work of genius.

“This is just… exquisite.”

“It’s a door handle.”

“It’s so, so much more than than a door handle. It’s the door handle all other door handles compare themselves to.”

The drone, a sleek grey wedge that hovered at head height, stopped whenever Ubik became enamoured by a nail in the wall or a light fixture. The only thing it had said so far was, “This way, please.” It looked like an ordinary domestic drone to Point-Two. Ubik had practically started drooling the moment he saw it, but had restrained himself. If this was how he was going to react to the mundane features of the Ollo residence, Point-Two dreaded to think what would happen if Ubik was exposed to something genuinely remarkable.

Still, they had got here thanks to Ubik being Ubik. The risk of everything going horribly wrong was just the cost of doing business at the Ubik shop — every shelf stocked full to brimming, just don’t look in the basement.

“This is great, this is really great,” said Ubik, bouncing up and down. “The whole house is a giant interlocking machine. Everything’s connected — you can reach any part of it from anywhere, as long as you know which path to take. It’s brilliant. Brilliant.”

His eyes were wide with awe and all he was looking at was a wall.

“Isn’t that how all houses work?” said Point-Two. He didn’t have much experience with surface-attached dwellings, but it would be strange not to be able to access one room of the house from another.

“No, I don’t mean physically…” Ubik shook his head, horrified by Point-Two’s lack of wonderment.

Double-doors slid open ahead of them, allowing Point-Two to see Fig arguing with a tall man. As they entered, they both turned to look at Point-Two and Ubik, but the man continued to speak in a chiding tone.

“We don’t have time for this. If your father was here—”

“Then you wouldn’t be,” said Fig, his tone equally frank.

These two had tussled often, Point-Two could tell. They were not equals and yet neither was willing to admit which of them was the superior. The tall man had a lot of the same qualities Point-Two had seen in Fig the first time they met. The same exact confidence in movements, the same tight restraint, the same explosive potential.

“You must be Mackus,” said Ubik. He was talking to a stocky bald man with a beard.

“No,” said the man. He had a gruff voice and seemed a little tense, but there was no hiding his fighting prowess. Just one look was enough to tell Point-Two that this man could kill him without breaking a sweat.

“You aren’t Ramon Ollo’s second in command?” Ubik looked the man up and down. “But you’re wearing Delgados.”

“Of course,” said the man, looking down at his boots. “Why would I wear anything else?”

Ubik turned to look at Fig and the other man, neither of whom were wearing Delgados. “Then Ramon Ollo isn’t as smart as I thought. Hey, is that…” Ubik went running towards a console.

The room was outfitted like the flight deck of a fancy battlecruiser. Every available space had something high tech with flashing lights.

“Please don’t touch anything,” said the tall man. He already looked exasperated, and he’d only just met Ubik. He needed to pace himself or he’d have nowhere to go when Ubik really got going.

“Mackus, it’s fine,” said Fig. “He knows what he’s doing.” A phrase that was both ironic and true when referring to Ubik. “PT, you made it. Must have been a rough trip.”

“You have no idea,” said Point-Two.

“Stuck with Ubik without a break.”

“Exactly.”

“The Central Authority probably had no idea what they were in for.”

“No idea at all,” said Point-Two. It was nice to have someone who understood what he’d been through.

“I can hear you,” said Ubik, not looking up. “I’m right here and I have feelings. Ooh, this is an integration station, right? Fuses all the auxiliary systems into a super-system — unblockable. I’d have put it over there by the main board, would make it much easier to operate. Why did he put it all the way over here?”

“I don’t know,” said Fig. “You can ask him when we find him.”

“No luck, then?” said Point-Two.

“Not yet.” Fig glanced over at Ubik, who was looking at a board full of buttons like it was a tray of delicious cakes. “I’ve been distracted.”

“Figaro,” said Mackus, anxious and pushing his point hard, “I understand you have reservations, but we really need to proceed. Your friends are the ones causing the distraction.”

“Yes,” said Fig. “A welcome one.”

Mackus gritted his teeth and breathed out through his nose.

There was an impatience to the man Point-Two found suspect. He wanted to move things along and was using the impending arrival of a Seneca fleet as an excuse. He was being obvious. He was being deliberately obvious. Point-Two wasn’t sure why.

Fig was stalling, which meant he wasn’t sure what to do. Point-Two used the time to assess the situation. There was an obvious imbalance here. Fig was the son of Ramon Ollo, but Mackus was treating him like a tool. A tool that wouldn’t do its job. The other man, watching from the side, seemed conflicted. He was supportive of Fig, but not able to act for some reason.

“Why did the Corps turn up?” asked Point-Two.

“Don’t worry, they weren’t here for you this time,” said Fig. “It seems they made a deal with Mackus.”

“The Seneca Corps had an arrangement with a man?” said Point-Two. “He must have offered them something they really wanted.”

“Yes,” said Fig. “The plan was to open fire on the asteroid, activating the emergency defence grid, which is the only time the network will allow someone other than my father or me to take control of it. But the Seneca ship wasn’t quick enough and was destroyed. Now, Mackus wants me to assume control of the network to stop the fleet Seneca are sending in retaliation.”

“But you think he’s using it as a ploy to take control away from you,” said Point-Two.

“Right,” said Fig, smiling at their shared understanding of the situation. After dealing with Ubik, other people’s machinations were much more straightforward. “Although I don’t know how he means to do it. Once I take control, the system is designed to protect me at all costs. My father made it so nothing is more important than my survival, even if it means the destruction of all life on this planet. Mackus is well aware of that.”

“Aw,” said Ubik. “Sounds like your father considers you a very valuable asset.”

Fig looked at Ubik, his smile turning a little bitter. “You two would get on really well.”

“Thanks,” said Ubik.

“I don’t think that’s a compliment,” said Point-Two.

“Do you have to ruin everything for me?” said Ubik. “I’m pretty sure you don’t understand any of what this room represents. A great man can’t be expected to think like a normal human being. We should all wish to be more like Ramon Ollo.”

Point-Two turned to Fig. “Can you give control of the network to someone else?”

“Yes,” said Fig.

“Give it to Ubik.”

“What?” said Mackus.

“It seems I’ve underestimated you, PT.” Ubik had turned away from the buttons and switches, and was giving Point-Two his undivided attention. “Please continue.”

“You think that’s a good idea?” said Fig. “The network is extremely powerful.”

“Good,” said Point-Two. “So he can use it to find your father. That’s something he wants to do, so he might actually stay focused.”

“Please, stop,” said Mackus. “Stop, right now. Finding your father is hardly the priority here. We need to protect ourselves from the fleet.”

“Ramon Ollo’s presence will be enough to stop the fleet,” said Point-Two. “It will also stop you from doing anything to Fig. Even if you kill him, even if you take control of the network, the consequences will be catastrophic for you personally. I think that’s beyond question. It is the obvious way to block any attempt by you to acquire control of the network. And Ubik is the obvious person to do it.”

Mackus’ face looked more flustered than ever, although his body showed no signs of distress, which was telling.

“You can’t possibly be thinking of allowing a novice to take control of the network. The consequences could be catastrophic. It takes years of training to handle a system this complex. You know that, Figaro.”

“He’s really Ramon Ollo’s second?” said Ubik. “Are we sure he hasn’t been replaced by a faulty android?”

“He not acting faulty,” said Point-Two. “I’d say he’s behaving exactly how I would expect someone to when they’re presented with a once-in-a-life opportunity to achieve their dream. You’re doing everything correctly, Mackus. I’ve seen people manipulate a crisis for personal gain before, and your approach is flawless. Unfortunately, there is one outcome you haven’t prepared for.” He looked at Ubik. “None of us have.”

“Alright,” said Fig. “You don’t have a neural implant so you’ll need—”

“This?” said Ubik, holding up a metal band.

“How?” said Mackus.

“Found it over there,” said Ubik. “No idea what it is.” He placed it on his head. “Wear it like this do you?”

“Network, Figaro, identify.”

“Network recognises Figaro,” said a voice.

“This is a mistake,” said Mackus. But for all his protestations, his posture suggested he was more excited than upset. He thought this was his chance. Point-Two almost felt sorry for him.

“Transfer full control to neural band three. Confirm.”

“Control transfer confirmed.”

“Oh, wow,” said Ubik, his eyes lighting up with glee and a grin exploding across his face. “I can see everything. This is amazing.”

Lights on the consoles flashed and formed patterns, waves of colour running across the boards.

“Kill him,” said Mackus. The two drones hovering over each of his shoulders shot towards Ubik.

Then they flew past him and smashed into the wall. Ubik didn’t even flinch, he was too busy looking around the room like he was seeing the mysteries of the universe unravel before his eyes.

“You don’t use drones to kill Ubik,” said Point-Two.

Mackus looked confused. “But.. but they aren’t part of the network.”

“The house is the network,” said Ubik. “If you’re in the house, you’re part of the network. This is so cool. You should see what I can see.”

The screens on the walls began to show different shots of the city, the plains, the seas, rapidly changing as more and more scenes appeared and disappeared. Then it was the planet from orbit, the stars, the wormhole.

“Can you locate my father?” asked Fig.

“No.”

“He’s not on the asteroid?”

“I can’t see the asteroid.”

“But it’s right in front of the wormhole,” said Fig.

“I can’t see the asteroid,” said Ubik, “because of the huge Seneca warship in the way. Yoo hoo, I see you.”

He waved at the screen, which showed nothing but stars.

“The ship’s cloaked?” said Point-Two. “They never destroyed it?”

Fig turned to Mackus. “I have to admit, you got me.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” said Mackus, now distressed for real. “Look for yourself, there’s nothing there.”

“Hey, ladies,” said Ubik. “If I blow up a ship that’s already been destroyed, doesn’t that mean I can’t be prosecuted for its destruction? Can’t destroy something that doesn’t exist, right? I’ve got all these blueprints showing me where to target your weak spots, it’s not even fair. Here, I’ll give you a chance. First strike will be aft, portside, third compartment, thruster vent two. Terrible place to put a vent, by the way. Too close to the condenser block. Okay, brace yourselves.”

The screen shimmered and a huge ship appeared as if by magic.

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Book 2 – 25: Without Restraint

Third Quadrant.

Planet Enaya.

The White Palace.

Control Room.

 

It was the first time Figaro could remember being in the main control room without his father being present. The room looked oddly unfamiliar to him now. The consoles, the screens, the rows and rows of buttons and switches — he knew what they all did, had been trained in their use, but it was like someone had replaced each thing with a not-quite-exact replica.

His time away had given him a new way of looking at things. It was disorienting.

The main control board was too far from the integration station, it would be easier if they were side by side.

The defence matrix controls were on a shelf above the main panel, which was an unnecessary obstruction. Useful for an immediate response if there was a dire emergency out of the blue, but that had never happened in all the time they had lived here.

He would also have added some chairs. And voice control. His father didn’t consider it reliable. The control room tended to get noisy in a critical situation, and too many sounds could confuse an AI into carrying out the wrong instruction. Not a problem if it plays the wrong song request. Sightly more of an issue if it fires a missile by mistake. His father’s network could do both, and a lot more besides.

He was, he realised, thinking how he would tailor the room to his preferences. He’d never even considered it before.

“Wake him up,” said Mackus, looking up at the screen and speaking over the communication channel to Tritan, who was up in the observatory.

“I can’t,” said Tritan. “You know what he’s like when he goes under. We don’t even know what he took. He set the cycle on a seventy-two-hour clock.”

Mackus turned to Figaro and Ganesh who were standing by the door.

“With the doctor indisposed, you’ll have to keep it on for now.”

“No,” said Figaro, rubbing his wrist below where the bracelet dug into his skin. “I won’t intervene otherwise. Take it off.”

“Figaro,” said Mackus, “this is hardly the time for ultimatums.”

“I agree.” He lifted up his arm. “So the sooner you take off the bracelet, the sooner we can get started.”

Mackus frowned. He was on the other side of the control room, flanked by two small drones, fist-sized cubes with one side elongated into a point, like an angular bullet. Figaro had never seen them before. New and not part of his father’s network.

“Only Yune can do that safely, and you’ve seen for yourself the condition he’s in.” Mackus glanced at the screen, which showed Dr Yune’s laboratory. The doctor was lying on one of his operating tables, tubes in each arm and a helmet over his face.

Figaro was familiar with Dr Yune’s taste for narcotics, the more exotic the better. He was the kind of person who enjoyed the thrill of pushing his mind into areas no one else had explored. No sane person, anyway. It wasn’t unusual for him to take a break from his work by taking a break from reality.

“This whole thing has taken us by surprise,” said Mackus. “We weren’t expecting the Corps to get blown up by your father’s preemptive measures. When did he even upgrade the asteroid’s defence grid?”

“He didn’t,” said Figaro.

“You’re saying the Antecessor system activated externally? That isn’t possible. This idea you have about the asteroid, it makes no sense.”

“The network will tell us what happened,” said Figaro. “I can access it as soon as you take this off.”

“I understand that,” said Mackus, “but we don’t have the luxury of time. The fleet is on its way. I will happily instruct the doctor to remove the bracelet when he is able, but if I do it myself, you know the consequences.”

“I do. Far better than you,” said Figaro. “We will both be under a threat neither of us will be sure we can contain. I don’t know exactly how you plan to appropriate the network from me once I assume control, but it’s obvious that’s what you have in mind. I’ve made the risk assessment the way you taught me, Mackus. I’m in a very disadvantageous position, even if I don’t know the specifics of what you plan to do. There’s no way for me to face you as an equal, you never would have let me out if that were possible. The fact you let me out is ample proof of that. But we can both be equally helpless in the face of my losing control. It’s not much of a guarantee, but it’s the only one I can be sure you won’t be able to counter. If you do anything to hamper or obstruct me, I can release the small amount of control I have over it. There’s nothing you can do to stop me, and nothing you can do to reverse the effects once they go critical. Not unless you’ve been able to develop a protocol that my even my father hasn’t been able to.”

“That’s a ridiculous position to take,” said Mackus, shaking his head with frustration. “Your risk assessment must be off.”

“I don’t think so. You’re the one who trained me to analyse a negotiation. I used every algorithm you showed me. This is the best play I have.”

Ganesh stepped up beside Figaro. He had been standing back, letting them have it out. If they were going to kill each other, this would be the time. If they came together to face their mutual enemy, this would also be the time. He hadn’t quite expected this stand-off, though.

“I don’t know why you’re arguing with him, Mackus. He’s grown up watching you make tactical decisions. He knows how you think. How could you possibly imagine he would not see through whatever it is you’re trying to pull? Even I can hear the gears grinding in that head of yours trying to work this to your advantage.”

“Of course I’m trying to find a way to make this work, that’s what I do. But I’m also trying to come to an arrangement that doesn’t see us all dead. They don’t stop to ask what happened in these situations, you know that. If we could get in touch with Nigella, things might be different, but I don’t even know which planet they’ve got her on. Whatever we do here, there is no way letting you off the leash is a good idea, Figaro. Putting the whole quadrant at risk is not a good bet. At least with the fleet, we can still run. If you lose control, there won’t be anywhere to run to.”

It was an impassioned and earnest speech. Figaro believed every word of it. He just didn’t believe Mackus believed it.

Figaro looked at the control board. Lights flashed and needles registered activity in a thousand different circuits. He has stood watching his father operate the board countless times. He had operated it himself, under careful observation. Now he had the chance to take command of the whole thing.

Even if Mackus had a strategy to wrest control from him, would he be able to? He wouldn’t be able to from his father, so the network had the potential to protect him no matter what Mackus had planned. The network wasn’t the weak link here, though. He was.

Rushing into this would be the foolish move, no matter how confident he might be in his own abilities. Mackus was better at thinking ahead than anyone, apart from Ramon Ollo. Even if Figaro put himself in third position, it was a very distant third.

“We have a situation,” said Tritan over the console speaker.

“Then handle it,” snapped Mackus.

“I don’t know how,” said Tritan. “It’s not the usual sort of problem. We have intruders. In the Exhibition Hall.”

“And security?”

“Everyone’s gone. There’s mass panic, in case you weren’t aware. The Hall’s been abandoned.”

“Then send drones to deal with the looters. How many are there?”

“Two, and I did,” said Tritan. “I sent six drones. They’re no longer responding to my commands.”

“They’re offline?”

“No. They’re online. They’re also… singing.”

“What?”

“Singing. Songs of an… erotic nature.”

The room went quiet. This certainly wasn’t the usual sort of problem. Figaro smiled. “Who’s the song about?”

Mackus glared at him. “What has that—”

“It’s about the Seneca Corps and what they, ah, get up to in private. With, uh, various tools. I’m pretty sure if the fleet hear it when they arrive, they’ll make us a priority target.”

“Can you put the security cameras on screen?” said Figaro.

“Yes,” said Tritan. “They’re in the gift shop.”

A second screen on the wall turned on and showed a high-angled shot of the gift shop in the Exhibition Hall. The Hall housed most of Ramon Ollo’s most famous inventions and discoveries, or facsimiles of them. The gift shop sold smaller facsimiles of the facsimiles. Your own mini starburst laser to superheat eggs for breakfast. Or a toy Grand Droid, infamous for taking the lives of hundreds before it was eventually dismantled, currently displayed in the Monsters of the Antecessors room. The toy version poseable in six different attack poses.

There were two people in the gift shop, currently. One was rushing around pulling things off shelves and putting them in a very full basket. The second was following the first, his body language suggesting he was bored and ready to leave.

“Open a channel,” said Figaro.

“I tried already,” said Tritan. “The audio isn’t working.”

“It’s working fine,” said PT, looking up at the camera. “We were just ignoring you.”

“Wait, what?” said Tritan, flustered. “How did—”

“Is it okay if I run a tab for all this?” said Ubik, putting a plushie of a Rirodan galvaniser beast under his arm. It was the most poisonous lizard in the quadrant, and the synthesised version of its venom was a key ingredient in many medicines. Unlike the plushie, it wasn’t pink.

“Sure,” said Figaro. “You haven’t seen six drones by any chance, have you?”

“You mean them,” said Ubik, pointing to the other side of the shop. The camera panned around on command, which it shouldn’t have.

Six drones were lined up in two rows of three. “Hit it, boys,” said Ubik.

“All the girls from Seneca,” sang the drones in matching falsetto. “Will bend over backwards for the Corps. And if you’ve ever travelled through a wormhole, then you know their Protocol.”

“Can you please shut them off?” said PT. “I want to ask a question.”

The drones stopped singing.

“If it’s about how I got them to harmonise so well,” said Ubik, “then my lips are sealed, patent pending. I’ll give you a hint, it involves a lot of auto-tuning.”

“I don’t want to ask you anything,” said PT. “Fig, Ubik said if we made enough noise, you would hear about it, but I said, what if he’s locked up in some cell and can’t get out, and Ubik said, no, now that the Seneca ship exploded, some idiot will let him out thinking they can use him to divert attention. For my own peace of mind, how close was he?”

Figaro looked across the room at Mackus — who looked shaken by the unexpected direction events had taken — and then back at PT on the screen.

“More or less exactly right,” said Figaro.

“Damn,” said PT.

“I told you!” said Ubik.

PT covered his face with his hand. “He’s not even human.”

Ubik began collecting more soft toys, singing, “Prizes for being right, prizes for being right.” The drones joined in like they were his backing singers. Then he stopped and looked up. “Hey, have you seen Grandma? I seem to have misplaced her.”

“She’s fine,” said Figaro. “She’s in my bedroom.”

Ubik’s mouth dropped open. “Fig, I had no idea. You rascal.”

Figaro bit his lip to stop himself laughing. “I’ll send a car to pick you up.”

“We had a vehicle,” said PT with a sigh. “Ubik parked it in the gift shop window. You might need a crane to get it out.”

“Who are these people?” said Mackus, finally finding his voice. “How do you know them?”

“They’re from my guild,” said Figaro. “Trainees, like me.”

Mackus’s eyes narrowed. He was trying to analyse this new information and fit it into his plans, and it wasn’t working. Figaro kept himself from smiling. He was familiar with that feeling. It would be interesting to see how a master tactician handled Ubik.

Book 2 – 24: Direct Approach

Third Quadrant.

Planet Enaya.

Elect City Battle Arenod™.

 

Point-Two followed the drone out of the room and into the elevator. As usual, when Ubik was involved things got messy. Why were the Seneca Corps here? It couldn’t be a coincidence.

Ubik looked relaxed and unfazed. Point-Two kept one eye on him and one on the drone. The drone couldn’t be trusted and there was a good chance it would use those needles it had fired at its own subordinates on them at some point.

Bam and the others had trusted Vox, followed him in the hope of freeing their people from decades of tyrannical rule, and he had turned out to be just another corporate lackey trying to gain market share.

If that was the way Node PLC operated, then they wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate a couple of nobodies once their usefulness came to an end.

Having said that, Point-Two knew only too well that if anyone was going to get him killed, it would be Ubik. A malicious agent working in corporate espionage was no match for the crown prince of chaos, who was currently looking around the elevator while humming. Point-Two had come to recognise that as a sign of impending disaster. Although, when he wasn’t humming, that was also a sign of impending disaster.

“I have arranged for a vehicle to meet us in the underground garage,” said Vox. “It will take us directly to the Ollo residence. It is a large compound, protected by the most advanced security matrix on the planet. Are you sure you’ll be able to bypass it?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” said Ubik, shuffling across the elevator so that he was behind the drone. “We can get in via the Ollo Exhibition Hall. Do you know if they have a gift shop?”

“Yes,” said Vox. “They have a very big one.”

“Great,” said Ubik, his eyes glittering. “I hope it’s not closed. I bet they sell some really cool stuff.”

Ubik could have been rambling as a way to cause a distraction. Keep Vox busy while he removed the drone’s inner-workings and then put them back upside down so the drone wouldn’t be able to fire its darts correctly. That was what a normal person might try.

But Vox was already aware of Ubik’s penchant for fiddling with tronics, and had already dodged an attempt by Ubik to get into the drone’s internal system, which was an impressive achievement and indicative of Vox’s prowess — you didn’t hold down a long-term cover as a resistance leader without knowing how to read people and preempt their attempts to ruin your plans.

What was more likely was that Ubik really was excited to visit The Ramon Ollo gift shop, where he planned to make several purchases. Which he would probably get Vox to pay for them.

“Aren’t we surrounded by the city’s security forces?” asked Point-Two.

“Yes,” said Vox. “The entire building is being watched from all angles, with snipers positioned on rooftops. You’ve caused quite a reaction. But we have lines of access in an out of the Arenod that they aren’t aware of. Once we exit the building, we will travel through a series of heavily-shielded tunnels until we are outside the city limits, and beyond the city’s jurisdiction. We use it to ferry around our bigger stars out of the media glare. It helps to cultivate mystique.”

Vox, it seemed to Point-Two, had been immersed in the entertainment industry a little too long.

The elevator doors opened. They were under the arena in a large parking area that was empty, apart from the sleek vehicle hovering in front of them. It was old and ornate. If it was used to discreetly move celebrities around, it did a remarkable job considering how eye-catching it was.

It was gold, it had fins and wings that seemed to have no aerodynamic purpose, and it had the FLEM logo emblazoned all over it. On the plus side, It looked like it could comfortably seat six people, so plenty of legroom.

“This is our premier limousine vehicle for luxury travel, powered by a proprietary engine designed by Powernode Interactive, a subsidiary of…”

“He’s put it on playback,” said Ubik. The drone continued informing them about the vehicles impressive specs.

“Why?” said Point-Two. “What’s he up to?”

Ubik leaned towards the drone, hands in pockets. “Nothing much, I think he’s transferring himself into the limo and playing the recorded message instead of some music. Smart. He’s probably holed up in some secret base, might not even be on the planet. But with how old this equipment is, any great distance is going to create lag. It’s fine once the connection’s secured, but the uplink transfer’s a bit slow. I could probably make a few—”

The door to the limousine opened with a click and then rose straight up, making Ubik jump back so as not to get hit under the chin.

“Please take a seat,” said Vox’s voice, now coming from inside the vehicle. “I’ve assumed control so we won’t have to rely on the automated network. No one will know we’ve left the building.”

Ubik and Point-Two climbed in. The drone followed, now silent, and took up a position in the back. Considering what it had done earlier, Point-Two made sure to choose a seat where he could keep an eye on it. Even if Vox wasn’t controlling it directly, he could still order it to attack them.

The interior was all red and the seats were big and soft. The door closed itself with a couple of jerks, and then an unnecessarily loud slam.

“Is this thing safe?” asked Point-Two.

“Of course,” said Vox. “I love these old machines. They don’t make them like this anymore.”

And for good reason, thought Point-Two.

The limo shuddered and then began moving, working its way around the parking garage to a large entrance with a barrier across it, which rose as they approached.

“We are now on our way and no one has any idea we’ve even left,” said Vox, sounding very pleased with himself.

Once they built up some speed, the ride became smoother. Through the tinted windows, the tunnel was lit by strips of light on the walls. They flashed by for the first couple of minutes, and then disappeared. They were flying under the city through a blind tunnel.

Considering they had been surrounded, their exit had been remarkably easy. Ubik, no doubt, would claim this was exactly what he had in mind when he entered the Battle Arenod, but Point-Two had stopped trying to work out exactly what Ubik was aiming for at any given moment. The best thing was to let him go and stay behind him. It was the best way not to get run over.

“Now that we’re no longer under surveillance,” said Vox, “maybe we can formalise our arrangement. You mentioned wanting guarantees. I’m authorised to offer you whatever you want in return for full access to the Ollo network.”

Ubik and Vox began discussing terms. Point-Two stared out of the window at nothing. He found it relaxing. Negotiations continued, neither party with any intention of fulfilling their side, Point-Two was certain.

Ten minutes later, the tunnel ended and the limo began ascending into a blue sky. There were open fields in every direction and the city was a series of distant peaks. Vox had been as good as his word — they were outside the city’s reach.

“The time to destination is two hours and six minutes, standard,” said Vox. “A little slow, but I think the comfort more than makes up for it.”

The interior of the vehicle was suddenly flooded with beams of light. Outside, several aircraft were holding position ahead of them. They were some way away, but directly in their path.

“This is Colonel Toaku, Eastern Director of the Regional Judicature,” said a voice coming out of the limo’s speakers, “you are under arrest and your vehicle is in violation of city statutes for crossing a security perimeter without a permit. Power down your vehicle and do not resist. We are prepared to use force if necessary.”

“This isn’t possible,” said Vox, flustered. “How did they…”

“Can we outrun them in this?” said Point-Two.

“No,” said Ubik. “If I had time to make a few modifications…”

“Wait,” said Vox. “Let me handle this.” Vox’s voice changed to a more authoritative tone. “Colonel Toaku, this is a private vehicle belonging to Fight Legends Elect Management. We are the premium entertainment provider in six cities across the globe, including…”

“Is he in playback mode again?” said Point-Two.

“Sounds like it,” said Ubik, as Vox continued to list FLEM’s resume. He looked behind Point-Two. “I think he’s transferring back into the drone.”

“Now? Why?”

“Dunno. Maybe the weapons. Maybe some other onboard systems we don’t know about.”

“Then who’s flying?”

“Autopilot.” Ubik peered out of the front window. “They’ll intercept us in a few seconds, and then try to grab us, I expect. Might get a bit rough.”

Point-Two turned around and grabbed the drone. It was a ball and fit neatly into his hands. He swung it around to his other side and smashed it against the side of the cabin, against a metal strip without any of the plush red padding that covered nearly everything. He banged it repeatedly.

Bits flew off the drone, a dart flew out and hit the roof, and then the lights around its middle went out. There was a large dent on one side and a crack from which a yellow gas was leaking.

“Was there a reason you did that?” asked Ubik.

“How long will it take him to transfer across, realise the drone doesn’t work, and transfer back?”

“About three minutes,” said Ubik.

“Great. You’ve got three minutes to take control of this vehicle and get us out of here.”

Ubik tilted his head a little and squinted one eye. “I’m not saying I don’t like this new assertive you, PT, because I do — I’m starting to see how you got that girl all wet and naked so quickly — but how am I supposed to do that in three minutes?”

“I have no idea, Ubik. But if you don’t, we’re finished. You might want to get started, clock’s ticking.”

Ubik smiled, then turned and ripped off a panel from the door.

Point-Two was taking a risk, but he had come to the conclusion that risks were going to be taken no matter what, and it would be far better if he was the one deciding when and where. If he left it to Ubik, there was no telling what benefits if any would be gained. Ubik had a problem with prioritising the correct things — like the lives of people who weren’t him — at least that was how Point-Two saw it.

He had come to the conclusion that, one, you should be as close in proximity to Ubik at all times. That might sound counterintuitive considering how much craziness happened around him, but the one place Ubik instinctively protected was wherever he was.

And two, he had realised that Ubik worked much better to a tight deadline. It wasn’t time to get things done that was his problem, it was having more time than he needed and using the extra to cause havoc to keep himself amused.

“Okay,” said Ubik, after about thirty seconds.

“You took control?” said Point-Two.

“No, no point. We can’t lose them in this pile of junk. FLEM are broadcasters, not engineers. So I thought I’d use their broadcasting expertise to send a message.”

“This is the Unified Emergency Network,” said a loud voice. “A Seneca warship has been destroyed in orbit. This planet is now under Emergency Order One. The Seneca First Battalion is on route. Evacuation is strongly recommended.”

Silence followed.

A few seconds later, the ships in front of them peeled off and flew away.

“That was pretty good,” said Point-Two, amazed at how effective the ruse had been.

“Uh, no,” said Ubik. “That wasn’t me.”

“What do you mean? You just said—”

“That was the Unified whatever, not FLEM. I was going to drive them crazy with non-stop fight commentary. That had nothing to do with me.”

Point-Two had to stop and think for a moment. “Ubik, did you just destroy a Seneca warship?”

“I swear, I had nothing to do with it.”

“So someone blew up a Seneca ship,” said Point-Two. “That’s not good. What do we do now?”

Ubik leaned back in his chair. “Well, the autopilot’s still working. I say we keep going and maybe we’ll get there before the gift shop closes. Could be our last chance to pick something up. If we’re lucky, they might be having a going out of business sale.”

Outside the sky was suddenly full of ships, all heading straight up. There seemed to be an endless number of them, with more taking off, all leaving as quickly as possible. Point-Two watched them go.

Chapter 465

“Let’s go,” said Jenny.

“Alright, calm down. I said I’ll go, you don’t have to be so pushy.”

“No,” said Jenny. “I meant we should find somewhere to have sex. Don’t you want to have sex with me? We haven’t seen each other in weeks, I thought that would be the first thing you’d want to do. Have I been misled about what men are like?”

She looked over at the assembled examples of manliness lying on the grass in a fearful huddle. They were in a pitiful state, yet somehow they still managed to look at me like I was the loser here.

“Yes, of course,” I said. “I’m not just going to jump on you though, am I? Things have changed a lot since you were last here, Jenny. Your outdated views of male sexuality will only enable toxicity in the current meta. Right, guys?”

I looked over at the guys and received no support whatsoever. Shows how low we’ve sunk in the gender wars that even a bunch of hardened macho men don’t dare speak against the feminazi movement for fear of never getting a blow job again.

“Anyway,” I said, “I thought you were in a hurry to get back.”

Jenny raised one eyebrow. “How long do you think it’ll take?”

Ah, it was nice to have the old vixen back in my life.

“What about the portal? Isn’t it going to close soon?” The black hole she had emerged from was still part of the garden wall (what was left of it after Cheng’s remodelling) but it was growing and shrinking and generally acting in an unstable manner.

“We can’t go back through there,” said Jenny.

“Why not?”

“It doesn’t lead back to Flatland,” said Jenny.

“How do you know that?”

“Biadet told me.”

“When did you speak to her?”

“This is how she got here. She brought me here and told me to wait until she opened the way for me. This was her idea.”

So, it was like that. Biadet hadn’t opened the wrong door at all. She had always intended to reunite me with Jenny, whether I liked it or not.

“Then how are we supposed to get back?” I asked Jenny.

“I thought you were working on a way. With Lillian. Weren’t you on the verge of a breakthrough?”

“Ah, yes.” I did vaguely recall possibly telling Jenny I was going to drop everything and make her my top priority. “Lillian turned out not to be very reliable. Tried to kill me, in fact, you know, to save the world from me.”

“She probably had her reasons,” said Jenny.

I looked over but none of the guys would look me in the eye. The Chinese were whispering to each other in Chinese, which I couldn’t understand, but I had a pretty good idea they weren’t admiring the firm control I had over my woman.

The demons, at least, weren’t judging me. They only looked hungry, which was a perfectly acceptable response.

Of course, I shouldn’t have cared what other people thought of me or my relationship with Jenny. Any couple that operates where one person calls all the shots and the other follows orders dutifully is a fucked-up couple. I mean, it can work and be mutually satisfying, and the amount of pleasure a correctly coordinated sadist-masochist relationship can generate is obviously through the roof, but apart from that, very fucked up.

“Lillian is a psycho,” I explained to Jenny.

“I know,” said Jenny.

“Then why did you tell her about me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Since when did you have any problem dealing with psycho women?”

She had me there. She had me in murder-suicide death pact, turning the sword around, stabbing herself in the stomach, and then getting me as the blade exited her back.

Jenny sent Lillian in my direction because she expected me to see through her bullshit, use her to get access to a way back to Flatland, and not get killed doing it. Her assessment of my abilities was right at the peak, and also right at the bottom. It was some sort of optical illusion painted by a madman.

“Hey. Hey.” Lillian appeared, clambering over the rubble that had been a wall. She paused at the top of the heap and took in the view with an alarmed expression. She was dressed in tight black clothing, carrying a wooden sword. If she raised it above her head, she would have made a fine book cover for a very mediocre fantasy story set in Hampstead. “What happened?” For a psychic, she wasn’t very up to date on events. “This wasn’t sanctioned. What did you do?”

Surprisingly, her ire wasn’t aimed at me. She came stumbling over the bricks and headed straight towards the men lying on the ground, specifically the British contingent.

“Who gave the order to engage?” She didn’t sound at all happy.

The man she was shouting at looked up defiantly. “They summoned demons!”

“Of course they did,” said Lillian. “You’ve read the brief, you knew this was a possibility. What the hell was all the training for if you’re going to go running in and get your arses kicked at the first manifestation of demons? Are you really this stupid, Stiles? How many medals for valour will it take for you to follow fucking orders?”

Maybe he was SAS, maybe he was SBS, whatever his military background, he was not prepared for this sort of tongue-lashing. I, on the other hand, was quite enjoying it.

One of the Chinese men said something and another snorted a half-laugh. Lillian answered them in a tirade of Chinese. It was loud and shrill, and I didn’t need to be fluent to know it wasn’t very pleasant. The Chinese men got all tight-lipped and red in the face.

Not so much fun when it was their turn to deal with a woman with the temerity not to be scared of them.

Then she turned to the Russians and the Americans. “You violated the agreement. This will be reported to your superiors and you will be held accountable. You’re lucky you aren’t dead, but you’ll wish you were.”

They kept their heads bowed, staring at the grass like it was being narrated by David Attenborough.

She came stomping towards me. My turn next?

“Here,” said Lillian, thrusting a wooden sword at me. “This was the only one they would let me take out of the vault.”

I took the familiar-looking sword from her. It was my sword, although it felt like nothing more than an actual wooden sword here.

“Where did you get it?” I asked her.

“I can’t tell you that.” She was looking at the men on the ground when she said this, so I assumed she didn’t want to speak in front of them.

She looked at the demons. “They won’t attack the locals, will they? The police have been told to keep the media away, but it’ll be much harder if people start disappearing. We can stop footage getting on the internet, but word will still get out.”

“Nothing to do with me,” I said. “They’re with her.” I pointed at Jenny.

“You’re here,” said Lillian, sounding a lot more pleased than when she saw me. “What happened to your face?”

In the Void, Jenny’s scarred skin looked normal. I wasn’t sure why that was the case. But here it was back to its craggy best.

“It’s an old love bite Colin gave me,” said Jenny. “It flares up every now and again. The demons aren’t going to attack anyone.”

“What about him?” said Lillian, pointing at a demon flying past while carrying a baby.

“He’s fine,” said Mandy. “He likes it. Look, he’s laughing.” Charlie was indeed laughing as he was flown around the garden. “He doesn’t get to play with other kids very often. The parents tend to complain.”

Mandy and Cheng watched their only child hoisted about with a proud look on their faces. Becoming a parent really does change people.

“He’s a beautiful boy,” said Jenny, eyes following the giggling demonic cherub.

“Yes,” said Mandy. “He’s perfect. They both are.” She looked from her child to her husband. “The only thing I worry about is that someone will take them away from me.” And then she looked at me.

“Yes, yes,” I said. “All blame leads to Colin. I’m sure it’ll be my fault, whatever terrible decisions you make.” I grabbed a demon by the leg as it flapped past. It squealed and tried to fly free, lifting me slightly off the ground.

I pulled it down hard so its wings inverted like an umbrella blown inside out by a strong wind, and we came back down. Then I hit it with the wooden sword. Which bounced off its domed head with a thunk! doing no damage.

“You’ve ruined it,” I said. “This thing used to be like a lightsaber. Now it’s just a piece of wood.” I thwacked the demon again, just to be sure. The demons squealed louder.

“Stop it,” said Jenny. “It’s just a baby. You’ll traumatise it.”

“Oh, no, what if it writes a book and blames me for its drug addiction? Fifty-human-souls-a-day habit and all because daddy was mean to me.”

“Daddy?” said Jenny.

I threw the demon at her. It flew into her arms and huddled their, whimpering. Kids today, can’t even take a mild beating without making a fuss about it.

“Where did you get this?” I asked Lillian, waving the sword at her. I wasn’t going to hit her with it, but the implication was there. Of course, the implication was usually enough to get you locked up these days, but fortunately I had a chick on my team. I’d just get her to do it. You can’t be sexist if you get your bird to do your fighting for you. Checkmate, feministas.

“I stole it,” said Lillian. “I took it from the Orion building when I worked there. They’ve been finding them for weeks now, but they don’t realise what they are, so they put them in a storeroom.”

“That’s where you found the crystal ball?”

“Yes.”

“Is Orion the only one who has access to the adjacent world?” It was starting to look like none of the big players had a way to get to Flatland, just Orion.

“Yes. He’s going to give access to the highest bidder.”

“Okay,” I said. “So then that makes things simple enough. You wanted to help me, clear out the Orion building.”

“I can’t do that,” said Lillian.

“But this is England, and they’re bloody Yanks. Kick them out and tell them to sue. They love lawyers.”

“We can’t,” said Lillian. “It’s private property.”

“Oh, the end of days is on the horizon, but sadly Mammon has property laws on his side so I guess we’re all screwed. Stop being such a wuss in the face of rich powerful men and do your job.” I didn’t really know what her job was, but she probably wasn’t doing it very well. Nobody does, these days.

“It’s not that easy,” said Lillian.

“Yes, it is. Just get me inside and I’ll show you. As soon as I take care of something.” I took Jenny by the hand and ripped the demon from her bosom, tossing it at the guys, who dived out of the way. I led her towards the house. “And hurry up. This won’t take very long.”

“Don’t worry,” said Jenny, speaking to Lillian over her shoulder. “I’ll buy you some extra time. I’ve got some pretty good delaying tactics he won’t be expecting.”

As usual, Jenny was overestimating her influence over me. We were back in five minutes. You may think I was under her thumb, but no woman controls me.

Book 2 – 23: Trigger Point

Third Quadrant.

Planet Enaya.

The White Palace.

The Study.

 

Mackus was seated in Ramon Ollo’s chair. It was large and comfortable, but it had hardly ever been used. Ramon liked to stay on his feet. When he worked, when he studied, even when he took a break, although that didn’t happen too often.

The arms of the chair were wide with many buttons. Ramon disliked relying on intermediates. Giving orders, vocal commands, assigning duties, none of it was quick enough for him, or good enough. He had always preferred to do it himself. Which made him a frustrating person to work for.

Mackus felt small in the chair. Even though he was physically bigger than Ramon, the times Ramon had used the chair, he had seemed to dwarf it. Mackus slid around in it like he was a baby in a cot.

“Have you got them online yet?” he said into the open channel with his team. It had been Ramon’s team, but now it was his.

“No, they’re stalling,” said the voice on the other end. Tritan was the communication centre analyst and Ramon’s favourite. Mainly because he did jobs before needing to be asked. “I think they’re probing us.”

Not surprising but not something that was going to yield any results. The Ollo network was designed to be impenetrable, and so far it had proven to be just that, as Mackus knew only too well.

The Seneca warship Tenderness had arrived a few moments ago and threatened the entire population of the world, including those just visiting. Standard operating procedure, nothing to be too worried about. There was just one ship. More than enough to reduce Enaya to a desolate rock, but if that was the intention, the whole First Battalion would be here. Overkill was also standard operating procedure.

“What about the ships in orbit around the asteroid?” Mackus asked. On the wall in front of him, the huge warship filled one side and the screen, and the yellow and green globe took up the other.

“Private vessels have left the area. The Central Authority ships have retreated to the Ruben-Sadar line.”

“That far back?” said Mackus, mildly surprised. “They must be expecting a big bang. Try the Tenderness again. Make it polite, though.”

Even with Ramon’s defence system shielding them, it was better to be tactful. Mackus was prepared for this encounter but there was no guarantee things would go the way he hoped. The Corps were temperamental, to say the least.

It was something they were known for, and which they actively promoted as their official position. It encouraged people not to approach them with any kind of duplicity in mind. If they were ready to attack for no reason, what difference would it make to have a hidden one? It was as effective as it was unreasonable. No one sweet-talked the Corps. If you caught them in a bad mood, they could easily decide to employ lethal force for the crimes you and your descendants were yet to commit.

“Okay, they’ve decided to grant us an audience,” said Tritan, his sarcasm an indication of how he felt about the Corps’ arrival. Signals were being jammed worldwide, making most of Tritan’s toys redundant.

“Put it through, and then block out any interference.”

“They’re already blocking out everything,” said Tritan. “It’s us and them, two lovers in the dark.”

“I want you to shut down the internal monitoring, too. I don’t want anyone contacting them from our side, either.”

“Our side? You’re kind of paranoid, Mackus. I like it. I’ll lock everything down. Speak freely.”

The screen changed and a woman appeared in front of him. She had very short hair and a large scar across her face.

“General Sway,” said Mackus. “Nice to see you again.”

“Yes.” She didn’t look particularly pleased to be back. She had been the one in charge for the extermination of five families who had dared to threaten the Ollo household, or the one member of the family who was a member of the Corps. It was not how he had wanted that operation to end, but it hadn’t been entirely a failure. You had to make the best of the situation, not your preferred outcome. Although, if the maid had activated the bomb correctly, he wouldn’t be able to call on a battalion general like this.

The general glared at him through the screen. “This had better be worth my time, Mackus.”

“I hope so, too.” He kept his face serious, even though these high-stakes situations were what he enjoyed most. It had been a long time since he’d felt this invigorated. “When we spoke last time, I said I might have an opportunity for the Corps to gain access to the Ollo blueprints, you remember?”

“I wouldn’t be here, otherwise.”

“Yes. Well, I had expected it to be a long-term proposition, something to work towards. But now it seems the schedule has been moved up.”

“Is he dead?” asked General Sway. “I can only imagine you making this offer if you were sure he was dead.”

Was Ramon Ollo dead? It was hard to be sure. Too many times, Mackus had seen Ramon go down against impossible odds, only to miraculously rise again. Those were their glory days, when they had travelled across the galaxy, looting and plundering as they pleased, taking on Antecessor sites no one else dared approach.

Then, it had been easy to accept being the great man’s flunky. The whole team was sharpened to a brilliant edge, cutting through wave after wave of opponents, closing in on treasures of unimaginable value.

They could still be sweeping through each quadrant now, but Ramon had decided to retire, to settle on this planet in the back of beyond, where nothing much happened, to tinker with a tiny asteroid that was a locked puzzle.

Ramon loved a good puzzle. He cracked them all, usually within a few minutes. That’s what Mackus had expected. And suddenly twenty years had passed.

“Yes. He’s dead.”

“And you have access to his network?”

“No. Not full access.”

“Then why am I here?” There was a twitch in one eye, possibly her giving the order to open fire through an ocular implant.

“I don’t have full access, but I can get it with your help.”

“For the blueprints?”

“Yes. And the full analytics, the defensive breakdowns, all of it.”

“You’ve seen the files, I take it.”

Mackus smiled. She was trying to goad him into admitting having seen Ramon Ollo’s evaluation of every Seneca ship and construct. The weaknesses, the flaws, the quickest ways in and out without a key. If he said he had personally seen them, he was dead.

“Obviously not, General. Only Ramon himself was privy to those files, although I believe he did share some of them with your High Command, to prove a point.”

“He only showed us a small sample.” General Sway’s lips thinned and her jaw tightened.

“And the point was proven. I don’t know the contents of the files, General, but he was Ramon Ollo. If he said he could penetrate your defences whenever he wished, I would believe him. Your High Command certainly did.”

This was going better than he’d expected. She was talking herself into aiding him. Her plans for him after that would probably not be very pleasant, but he would deal with that after she had helped him secure access to the network.

“What is it you want me to do?” said the general.

“Open fire on the asteroid.”

“And what will that achieve?”

“It will trigger the automated defence grid. Once you activate the grid, I will be able to gain full access to the entire network.”

“Why can’t you trigger the grid?”

“It has to be an emergency deployment. It won’t be an emergency if we attack it — the system will see it as a training exercise. But if a Seneca warship opens fire…”

“Yes, I’d call that an emergency. What’s to stop the grid destroying us?”

“The first thing it will do is deflect your attack. Then it will destroy you. Between those two, there will be a small window. We will assume control in that time.”

General Sway’s eyes narrowed. “And if you aren’t quick enough?”

“Then the entire Seneca Corps will come knocking. I can assure you, I have no interest in entertaining the full fleet in attack mode, even though I’m sure it would be a very short visit.”

The general snorted. She was right to consider the possibility of failure but she knew the consequences as well as he did. He would be a fool to allow her or any of her crew to perish. A dead fool.

It was going to be difficult but it was the only way. The one emergency measure that would allow one of the team, someone not related to Ramon, to assume control in his absence. Every other avenue had been explored and found blocked. This was the only way. One chance to claim victory. It was what Ramon had trained them to do, before he had brought them to this dumpling of a planet to rot. Time to put their training to the test.

“Very well,” said General Sway. The chance to obtain the blueprints was too tempting for her to say no, just as Mackus had known it would be. “I hope for your sake you can—”

The screen went black.

Mackus stared at it for a moment, unsure if the problem was on their end or his. He flicked a switch on the armrest. “What happened?” There was no reply. “Tritan, what happened?”

“The ship…”

“Yes?”

“The asteroid. Tethari. It activated the grid. It destroyed the ship.”

“What?”

 

***

 

The White Palace.

Safe Room.

 

Figaro closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind, but the pain from the bracelet was too distracting. They had increased it for some reason. Doctor Yune had never been able to leave anything alone. He was probably conducting more tests.

“You should rest,” said Ganesh, still sitting on the floor in meditation pose. “He’s bound to come for you at some point.”

“You don’t think he’ll gain access to the network?”

“Not without you.”

“I don’t think so either, but you have to be prepared to be proven wrong. Isn’t that what you—” Figaro stopped and sensed a twinge in the back of his neck.

“What is it?” said Ganesh.

“The Seneca Corps are here.”

“Here? In the Palace?”

“No, I don’t think so. In orbit, I think.”

Ganesh looked doubtful. “You can sense them in orbit?”

“Yes. It’s a… knack I have. I’m not sure how. Father used to say I was imagining it. That there was no scientific explanation for it.”

“Doesn’t sound like your father to dismiss something because he didn’t understand how it worked.”

“Oh, I think he understood how it worked, he was just lying to me. He always resorts to parental chiding when he doesn’t want to answer my questions.”

“What do the Corps want? Assuming they’re actually here.”

“I don’t know. I can only detect presence, not motive. Maybe they—” He stopped again, head tilted to the side.

“Now what?”

“They’ve gone.”

“Just dropped in to say hello, did they?”

Figaro shrugged. “I expect Mackus—”

“Figaro,” said Mackus’ voice. “We have a problem.” He sounded rattled, which was unlike him.

“Okay,” said Figaro.

“There was a Seneca warship here a moment ago.”

“Yes.”

“The Tethari grid just destroyed it.”

“That doesn’t sound very likely,” said Figaro. “Why would it do that?”

“The ship was about to open fire on the asteroid.”

“You wanted to activate the grid,” said Figaro, understanding Mackus’ plan. “Use the emergency deployment protocol to take over the network.”

“Yes,” said Mackus, sounding terse. “But the grid fired before they’d even primed their weapons.”

“Of course. It knew what you were planning.”

“But it was a secure signal,” said Mackus.

“Did you use our network to secure itself against itself?”

“The attack didn’t come from here,” said Mackus. “It came from the asteroid.”

“Mackus, where do you think Father’s private network is located?”

“He put it in the asteroid?”

Figaro wasn’t sure what Mackus was trying to do. He had to know this already. “Yes. The Antecessors provide excellent security. If the warship really has been destroyed, they’re going to send more. They’re going to send a lot more. And then they’re going to destroy the planet.”

“Yes. What do you suggest I do about it.”

Figaro was also sure Mackus had considered this. He scratched at the bracelet cutting into his wrist. “Well, you could set my organic off and let the grid activate to contain me.”

“That would also destroy the planet,” said Mackus.

“Yes, but it would take out the Seneca fleet at the same time. A little petty, but they would certainly add you to their Hall of Infamy. You would not be forgotten, Mackus.”

“Thank you for that suggestion, Figaro. I always wanted a dramatic ending.”

“I know, that’s why I suggested it. Alternatively, you could admit it was your fault and lead them away from Enaya, sacrificing yourself to save the world.”

“I liked your first idea better,” said Mackus. “Give me control of the network. It’s the only way to hold them off.”

Did Mackus destroy a Seneca warship and put an entire world under a death sentence, just to leverage Figaro’s compliance? If so, it was an extremely drastic measure. Not out of the question for Mackus.

“No,” said Figaro.

“You will die here, too.”

“My prospects were looking quite bleak anyway,” said Figaro.

“Then assume control and save us all,” said Mackus.

“You’ll remove the bracelet?”

“Yes.”

“You know I won’t allow you to take me captive again once the Corps is dealt with.”

“I know. We can deal with that when the time comes.”

Clearly, Mackus expected to be able to acquire the network from Figaro at some point. He was confident enough to use the Corps to act as bait. It was dangerous to use bait that could kill you, but he had grown up watching his father and his team run Antecessor maps. Risky plays were what they had excelled at. They were what Mackus loved most. Using the Corps like this was exactly the sort of thing Mackus would do.

“Okay,” said Figaro. “Let me out.”

The door slid open.

Figaro also loved risky plays, it was just that his father would never allow him to be part of them. Well, he wasn’t here now and Figaro had one in mind that would make Mackus mad with envy.

Ganesh stood up in one smooth motion. “Looks like you won’t be needing your friends to rescue you after all.”

“No,” said Figaro as he walked out of the room, “I think we’re all going to need rescuing.”

Chapter 464

“Hey, hey, hey,” I said, as demons came swooping towards me. There were only half a dozen small ones, but they were red-eyed and very toothsome, so it was unsettling.

They grabbed me, dodging my attempts to swat them away, and dragged me towards the love of my life.

Try as I might to be the dutiful, respectful boyfriend, it’s hard to genuinely consider someone else your equal. Equal rights and equally deserving of whatever benefits you might get as a man — personally, I don’t get any, so help yourself to half — but an equal say in what you should do with your life?

I don’t think so.

“Get off!” I managed to catch a scaly limb — couldn’t tell if it was an arm or a leg or something else — and swung one demon into another.

Something pulled my shirt from behind, twisting me around. I kicked backwards and hit something that cracked. It released me, and then dug claws into my buttocks, making me jump up and do a very decent Karate Kid crane kick.

Which helped me break free, for a second. They came rushing back with added fervour, scratching and pawing at me.

While I was inside this demonic flurry of hands and claws, inexorably being drawn closer and closer to a destiny not of my choosing, it occurred to me that the moment I set eyes on Jenny, here, in front of me in the flesh, I should have felt happy.

I should have felt pleased. Excited. Maybe even relieved. Finally, the one person I didn’t mind scratching and pawing me was within reach. Cue uplifting orchestral music and slow-motion running into each other’s arms.

But that wasn’t what I had felt. My immediate reaction was annoyed. I could tell, even before she opened her mouth, that she was going to start telling me what to do.

Sure, she had her reasons. There was an emergency, there was no time to waste, there was a small window and she needed to stick me in it while stamping repeatedly on my backside to shove me through. I understood the need to sometimes skip the courteous stuff and explain later. But the thing was, even if there was a crisis that needed averting, why would she think I gave the slightest fuck?

In fact, if she knew me — and she did — she would know explaining things in a clear and accurate manner would most likely convince me to stay put. And the only way to get me to go along with the plan was to rush and bluster and leave no openings for deliberation.

I saw all of this the moment I saw her face. They say familiarity breeds contempt, but not because you get bored or tired of someone if you see them too much. Familiarity, if it’s time well spent, means you get to know that person. You get to know how they think and what tricks they use to get their own way. And what a less than ideal person they really are.

Which is true for everyone, of course. None of us are perfect, we just do our best to put on an act when in public. Don’t say the thing you’re thinking, don’t do that awful thing you would do if no one was watching.

But at home, with the ones you love, it’s hard not to let the truth slip out. It slowly leaks over time and even though you know you’re just as guilty of acting the same, you don’t have to see yourself doing it. If we had eyes on stalks and looked down at ourselves from a slight distance, we’d probably be just as disgusted with our own behaviour as we are with everyone else’s.

Some of the demons hauling me across the very neatly mowed lawn actually did have eyes on stalks. I could have asked them if my theory was correct. Others had bat wings, horns, teeth coming out of their ears (or maybe they were also horns, hard to say, I am not a certified demonologist). It was a bit of a freak show.

The larger demons had remained with Jenny, surrounding her like they were about to head off on a girls’ night out. Giving me the look, the one where they know all the emotionally insensitive things I’ve done to their girl and they intend getting drunk and explaining to her why she’d be better off shagging some random skeeze they wouldn’t mind shagging themselves. Women — just as good as men, just as bad as men.

“Will you stop pulling my hair,” I screamed, slapping wildly to get them off me.

It would have been easier to give in and just do what they wanted, but then it always is. Who wants to be that guy? The one who thinks he’s safe because he’s with a crowd, all goose-stepping in unison like a Korean boy band.

“No, stop, I’m going to get angry in a minute.” My complaints were being ignored, as was my struggling. Story of my life.

Then there was a loud crack and one of the demons suddenly had a large hole in one of its wings. It sealed itself up in a couple of seconds, but eyes (on stalks and not on stalks) turned to look at the men who were back on the wall, now with bigger guns.

“What the fuck, guys?” I shouted. “That could have had someone’s eye out.”

There were about a dozen of them, perched, looking through scopes. The nations had gathered together, finally, to attack the invading horde.

Special bullets? Superior firepower? They probably thought they could use bigger and badder against the demons and somehow come out on top. Just keep increasing the magnitude of destruction — RPGs, mortars, atomic bomb in a suitcase — and eventually someone would end up victorious. It was the way they had been taught to win.

The attention of the demons had switched to the men on the wall, so I had a moment’s respite to get my shit together. I could hold my ground and face Jenny on equal terms, and explain why I didn’t appreciate being press-ganged into service. We could talk like adults.

Instead, I stepped in front of the demons and raised my arms. “Hey, dumbfucks, cut it out. This isn’t a fight you can win with your bang-bang sticks, bunch of dipshits. You are not qualified, do you understand? Out of your depth, you worthless sacks of—” Was I mad at them or mad at myself and projecting? Who knows? They opened fire and didn’t seem to care about any civilian casualties, which is the modern form of heroism.

Used to be, the good guys were hamstrung by not wanting to risk shooting hostages. Gave the bad guys an unfair advantage, so someone worked up some game theory calculations, ran it through a computer model, and thought, fuck it, a couple of hostages were going to end up dead no matter what, we can spin it using our highly-trained public relations personnel. Open fire!

I wasn’t too worried, I had my healing ability, and if that didn’t kick in, in some ways death was preferable to what was waiting behind me. But much to my surprise, demons flew in the way and took the bullets for me.

They didn’t die but, unlike before, these bullets ripped chunks out of them.

There was a loud crack like thunder, only not from the sky. Cheng had decided to have a word.

The wall crumbled and everyone on top fell. None of them were badly injured, but it got the message through. They had brought guns to a demon fight. What they should have brought were exorcists. A couple of Catholic priests sneaking up behind you, cassocks flapping, that’d be enough to scare the shit out of the underworld’s worst offenders.

The guns flew off in different directions and the men began sliding across the turf. Cheng hadn’t done much in the way of the arcane arts since I’d arrived but now he was letting the observers see a little of what he could do. It was impressive how easily he dealt with a group of elite professionals. Not so easy when you don’t have the chips stacked on your side as you expertly take out a goat herder asleep on the side of a hill.

The men screamed as they scrambled to get some kind of a hold in the ground as they slid towards Cheng, leaving gouges in the topsoil. Not very manly of them. It was just a few demons and a bald guy with no shirt on. They must have seen worse during basic training.

“Why are you firing those weapons on my property?” said Cheng. “They aren’t legal here, are they? Don’t you have any respect for the law?”

Classic immigrant reaction, thinking the laws they were told about when they arrived applied to everyone.

One of the Russians pointed at Jenny, who was somewhere behind me. “Her. What?”

I looked over at her and got a taste of what they were seeing. She didn’t look very happy. If I had a gun, I might have been tempted to start blasting, too. Then I realised it wasn’t her foul mood that had spooked the men, it was her scarred face. I hardly even noticed it anymore, but to them, she must have seemed like something out of a horror movie; Queen of the Demons.

“Look, guys, you’ve got it wrong.” I was speaking to them as fellow blokes. We’d spent some time together doing touristy things, I’d even bought them ice creams. We weren’t friends, but I liked to think we had developed a mutual respect. “She isn’t a monster, she’s my girlfriend.”

They looked at me, mouths agape.

“She’s from Croydon.” That didn’t seem to improve their opinion of her. “I know you’re freaking out at the moment. None of this seems real and you want to blow things up and shoot your way out while making badass wisecracks to show you’re cool. All that training you did, all the missions you’ve accomplished, this isn’t going to end like that. If this was a movie, you lot would be the henchmen who shoot thousands of rounds and never manage to hit anything, and then die in an amusingly gruesome manner. That’s the only outcome for you. Better you just walk away. No one will believe you, anyway. Tell them you have PTSD — killing so many innocent women and children is starting to make you feel a little sad inside. They’ll understand. Collect the pension and join a private security firm. You can still wear sunglasses indoors, it’ll be fine.”

The guys were starting to get it. Even the Chinese ones who had no idea what I was talking about. Demons were everywhere and bullets did very little against them. It was bringing all their doubts to the surface and making them realise that photo on their phone of them standing on someone’s neck and reloading a gun didn’t actually count for much. I was doing my bit to help them make the transition to enlightenment.

“They have giant retractable penises,” I whispered loudly, pointing at the biggest demon. “If you stay on, they’ll know you’re up for it.”

“Are you done?” said Jenny. “Got it out of your system?”

I could tell she wasn’t going to make this easy.

“Why are you suddenly mistress of demonkind?” I asked her.

“They were in there with me,” she said, shrugging like what do you expect when you leave your girl on her own.

“Aren’t they supposed to be following you?” I asked Cheng.

He shrugged, like he also thought this was my fault. “They must have imprinted on her. They’re younger than they look.”

Apparently, demons were like chicks. And Jenny was mother to a whole brood.

“Great. Must be very fulfilling, but I’m not sure I’m ready for this kind of a commitment. I mean, it’s not that I’m against the idea of starting a family, eventually, when the time’s right, but this is a bit sudden.”

Jenny slowly closed her eyes and then opened them again. I recognised the move. The ‘let’s hope this is a bad dream and I’ll wake up’ move. It’s not very flattering when you’re the target.

“Colin, I haven’t seen you in ages. I missed you and I love you. But I swear, if you don’t stop pissing about, I’m going to…” Her lips went all wobbly, like she couldn’t decide which awful thing to put at the top of a very long list.

I walked over to her, shoving some very large demons out of the way. They knew not to get involved. Heightened threat-sensing ability.

“Jenny, come on,” I said, lowering my voice. “Not in front of the guys. You know how hard it is for me to make male friends and they think I’m cool. You’re making me look bad.”

“Why do you care about them?” She said, not getting it all. “Are any of them willing to have sex with you?”

“I don’t know,” I said, “I haven’t asked.”

“Colin, we have to go. We need you.” She took my hand. She had a surprisingly strong grip, but I pulled myself free. It helped my hand was sweaty and damp. Finally, my nervous perspiration working to my advantage.

“No. I’m not going to go back to help them. They wanted to do it on their own, now they have to make the best of it. Good luck, have fun.”

“You know it isn’t that simple,” said Jenny. “You can show them what to do. You have that ability, don’t waste it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. All I can show them is what it looks like to constantly fuck up and have everything work against you.”

Jenny looked at me, hands on hips. The demons copied her. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

“What do you think I see in you?” she said.

“Is this a trick question?” I asked.

“Anyone can succeed when things are set up to make sure they win. You never have things work for you. You fail over and over again. The people around you let you down. You can’t rely on anyone.”

“Have we moved on to a different question?” I was fairly sure these weren’t good reasons to be with someone.

“But you never give up.”

“I give up all the time,” I said, very certain I was on solid ground with this argument. Oh, the witnesses I could call.

“Listen to what you just said. How can you give up so often without…” She smiled with smug satisfaction. I could see why the demons had been drawn to her.

You can’t give up more than once without trying again more than once, was her point.

“You don’t give up. You never give up. Even when people let you down, you don’t let them down. Because you think you’re better than them, I know. You’re spiteful like that. I like that part most of all. And you’re right, you are better than them. That’s why you’ll come back with me, fix everything that they did wrong, and then walk away like it was no big deal, like it was easy for you, not worth even bragging about, just to make them feel terrible about themselves. You make me feel that way all the time, like I’m miles behind you.”

I felt a scaly hand fit into mine. I looked down and there was a small demon looking up at me with large crimson eyes, three of them. I shook off its disgusting claw.

“Fine. If it’s to make those ingrates feel bad, then I’ll do it.”

Familiarity breeds contempt, but intimacy, that’s a whole other level of knowing someone. Then you start learning stuff even they don’t know about themselves. And you can use it to show them who they really are. Or use it to destroy them. I didn’t know which Jenny was trying to achieve, but the girl was surrounded by demons. I suspected there was a clue there.

Book 2 – 22: Initiate

Third Quadrant.

Planet Enaya.

Elect City Battle Arenod™.

 

Ubik stood in front of the screen which showed PT and a muscular woman taking a shower together. Both of them were naked and steaming. Only partly from the hot water, Ubik guessed.

“Very impressive,” said the voice coming from the drone.

“Well, he’s the strong silent type, which girls like,” said Ubik. “Plus he works out.”

“No,” said the drone. “I meant how quickly you managed to compromise our systems.” Lights flickered across the middle of the spherical drone and the screen went black. “I was aware of you hacking this drone, but not the others. You must have done it before you entered the building.”

“Oh, that.” Ubik stared at the screen, his reflection staring back at him. Having PT on site could have provided a distraction, but he was otherwise indisposed. Impressive, it certainly was.

He turned to face the group of men at the other end of the room, the drone hovering slightly above them. It was the same drone Ubik had meddled with earlier but he had nothing to do with its sudden chattiness.

“Yes, I had a chance to start the ball rolling on the way into the city. Nice little arena you’ve got here. Bit weak to cyber attack, but you’ve got the Ollo network to shield you. Only a problem if the Ollo network gets compromised first. That was the tricky part.”

“This guy’s too relaxed,” said Ghee. “He’s up to something. Shouldn’t we tie him up before he tries something else?”

“No,” said the drone. “He can’t do much from in here. I’m watching him. Bring in his friend so we can see what their relationship is. They can’t both be geniuses.”

Ghee’s right eye darted around, activating his ocular implant. “He’s on his way.”

“Good,” said the drone. “I think this could work to our mutual advantage, Ubik. Whatever you did to upset VendX, we can protect you from them. If you cooperate.”

“And who are you?” asked Ubik.

“Call me Vox,” said the drone. “I prefer to keep my identity private. It helps avoid issues like being killed by people who don’t like what I’m doing.”

“You have that problem too, huh?” Ubik nodded sympathetically. “I’m not sure if hiding behind a drone is the way to deal with it, though. People will think you’re scared.”

“But I am scared. I’m mightily afraid I won’t be able to accomplish my goals. The people of Enaya are far more important to me than my reputation. Don’t be fooled by the smiling, well-fed citizens you’ve seen so far. The situation here is quite dire.”

“I used to live in a junkyard and eat garbage,” said Ubik. “Happy and well-fed seems pretty okay.”

The door opened and PT came in. He was dressed in a green and yellow leotard with a red flash of lightning across the chest, which was a little baggy on him. The woman he’d been in the shower with followed him in. She was wearing an identical leotard but on her, it was stretched taut.

“This is Janeane,” said the woman, “or whatever his real name is. This is Vox. Your life is in his hands, so behave yourself.”

PT looked at the drone. “A drone? The leader of your revolution is a drone?”

“Welcome,” said the drone. “It’s been so very busy these last few hours, guests arriving one after the other. We have interested parties from all over the quadrant and further afield come to see who ends up with the lion’s share of whatever it is that asteroid is about to produce. All the major players, all hungry for a piece of the action. And now you two. The two who arrived on the Central Authority ship. The vessel that exploded but somehow left you both unharmed and standing on our doorstep. I can’t see that as being mere coincidence. At the very least, providence has sent you during our time of need. They are about to carve up this world and leave nothing but crumbs for its true owners, the people. Surely you won’t allow that to happen.”

“Hey,” said Ubik. “He’s not here to rescue you, he’s here to rescue me.”

“I’m not here to rescue anyone,” said PT. He sounded quite dour. Even more than usual. That might work on the girls, make him seem all moody and interesting, but Ubik’s head wasn’t so easily turned.

“But you’re in matching outfits,” said Ubik. “You’re a superhero team here to save me. Otherwise, it’s kind of a weird look.”

“I’m not here to save you, Ubik. And please don’t try to save me.”

Ghee, who had been watching the exchange with some consternation, decided to interrupt the bickering. “You two do realise you’re in a lot of trouble, don’t you?”

“I’ve rescued him from worse than this,” said Ubik. “You’d think he’d want to repay the debt.”

“You’ve only rescued me from danger you put me in,” said PT.

“This is interesting,” said the drone. “Which one of you is in charge? I can’t tell.”

“In charge,” said PT. “Ha! You know how they have terrorist cells where no one group knows what the other is doing? That’s how Ubik’s brain works. There is no one in charge, just a series of random disasters.”

“I’ve been insulted,” said Ubik, “with great precision. Not sure how to feel about it.”

“Look,” said PT, addressing the drone, “do you want to kill us or use us for some purpose you can’t manage by yourselves? Make up your mind quick, we have other business to take care of.”

There was a pause as the people who thought they were the ones in control attempted to come to grips with how they were the ones being handed the ultimatum. Ubik was pleased. PT was doing an excellent job of keeping everyone off-balance. He was genuinely annoyed, which made it even more convincing, but that was okay. He was still quite an effective counter-terrorist.

“We aren’t murderers,” said the woman. Ubik wasn’t sure the others were in total agreement with her.

“Okay, so you want us to do some task for you,” said PT. “Fine. But just so you know, there’s a good chance — and by good I mean near-certain — that it won’t turn out the way you anticipate, and you, Vox, will be the one having to explain to your unhappy bosses why you’ve turned your fancy arena into a pile of rubble. Just a heads up.”

“What are you talking about?” said Ghee. “He is the boss.”

“Please,” said PT. “Ubik, the guy behind the drone, who is he?”

“How would I know?” said Ubik.

“You’ve been with him for ten minutes, are you saying you have no idea?” There was an accusatory tone to PT’s voice.

“Well, I have some ideas… nothing definite.”

“Come on, Ubik, don’t start being all cautious now, you’ll ruin the image I have of you. What have you come up with? I’m sure these people would love to hear your theories on the guy they think is their boss. He isn’t is he?”

“Probably not,” said Ubik.

“Of course he isn’t. When did the guy keeping his identity secret ever turn out to be someone you could trust? So who is he?”

PT had very effectively channelled the room’s attention towards Ubik. Not only had PT managed to put everyone into a reactive posture, he had funnelled their focus away from himself. It was almost as though he was using Ubik as the distraction. Ubik was inclined to go along with it just to see where things would end up.

“Okay, well, with the disclaimer that I’m only going on the minimum amount of information on someone who clearly values their privacy, my guess would be he works for Node.”

“What?” said Ghee.

“Ridiculous,” said the woman.

The two large men who were also in attendance didn’t say anything but didn’t look overly impressed, either.

“Who or what is Node?” asked PT.

“Our parent company,” said Ghee. “Node PLC.”

“Node — Power Loves Corruption,” said Ubik.

“That’s not—”

“Don’t be offended, it’s just a nickname,” said Ubik. “They’re one of the minor supercorporations. They can destroy anyone in their way, unless the ones in their way are also a supercorporation. They’ve been trying to make inroads into the whole owning planets business, but the big boys keep shutting them out. They have a bit of a presence here, which none of the other supercorps have, but the problem is the reason no one has a foothold here isn’t blind luck, it’s because this is Ramon Ollo’s backyard. But with Ramon missing…”

“Do we have to listen to this nonsense?” said the woman. “You’re saying the man who has risked everything for this world is actually an employee of some grimy corporation that wants to take over before one of its rival grimy corporations can do it first? This is just business? People’s lives are hanging in the balance.”

“I don’t know,” said PT. “Why not ask him?”

PT now expertly diverted attention towards the drone. He really was getting good at this.

The drone was silent. It hovered in place, no lights flashing around its middle. It was a good thing drones couldn’t sweat, it might have short-circuited itself.

Finally, Vox spoke. “What do you want?”

“Are you saying he’s right?” said the woman, a look of horror on her face. “It isn’t true, is it? You can’t be…”

“Of course it isn’t true,” said Vox. “Please wait and don’t jump to conclusions, Bam.”

“Calm down,” said Ghee. “You know Vox never does the expected. Let’s see what his play is.”

They were both desperate for Ubik to be wrong. Ubik didn’t really care. His guess was enough to prevent him and PT getting stuffed into a bag in easy to handle pieces. If he wasn’t exactly right, he wasn’t far off.

“We’re in a very disadvantageous position here,” said Vox. “It was bad enough with only Ollo and his pet Assembly ready to wag its tail at his command. Now there are many more players wanting to take his place, including Mackus.”

“Who?” said PT.

“Ramon Ollo’s number two,” said Ubik.

“You really are an Ollo fanboy, aren’t you?” said PT. “Won’t he be the one to take over if he’s got access to Ollo’s set-up?”

“No,” said Vox. “If he could, he would have already. The Ollo network isn’t so easy to penetrate for anyone who isn’t an Ollo. Or so I thought.”

The walls flickered. They changed into screens, the whole room was covered with images of Enaya from orbit, with part of a large ship taking up one corner.

“This is the Seneca Corps,” said a voice that filled the room. “We are broadcasting on all channels. Forced reception is active, do not look away. We are assuming command of the planet. The General Assembly will convene in thirty minutes, standard. Attendance is compulsory. Do not be alarmed, we are here on a humanitarian mission. Any resistance to our presence will be met with lethal force.”

Targeting icons started appearing across the globe. The Corps’ version of being passive-aggressive was light on the passive.

“What’s going on?” said Ghee. “Why are they back?”

“Are they here to deal with Mackus?” said the woman.

“Boss,” said one of the large men, looking particularly nervous, “we’ve got to get to the bunker.”

The timing wasn’t great. They had just been about to secure a ride out to the Ollo residence, which was all Ubik had really wanted out of this. Now the Corps was here to ruin everything.

“Not them again,” said Ubik. “Everywhere we go.”

“You’ve had dealings with the Corps before,” said Vox. “And lived.”

“Sure,” said Ubik. “No big deal. They’re actually very useful as a distraction. No one pays any attention to you when the Corps arrives. It’s the fancy uniforms and underwire bras — very eye-catching. You were saying?”

Other than PT, the rest of the room were staring at Ubik.

“Get me into Ollo’s network,” said Vox, “his private network — then name your price. We can make you both very rich men and provide you with a ticket to anywhere in the galaxy. You know the other corporations won’t make you an offer you can trust.”

“Wait,” said the woman, “you really are—”

A series of hisses came from the drone and small jets of air caused a distortion in four different directions. Four people hit the ground with darts in their necks.

“And we can trust you?” said PT, ignoring the sudden reduction in personnel.

“We’d need a guarantee,” said Ubik. “And we need to get inside the Ollo main residence. I can only access the private network from onsite.”

“That won’t be a problem,” said Vox.

And that was how you got yourself a free ride when you didn’t have enough money for taxi fare.

Book 2 – 21: Mr Bright Eyes

Third Quadrant.

Planet Enaya.

Elect City Battle Arenod™.

 

Point-Two controlled his breathing through his nose, maintaining enough airflow so he wouldn’t pass out. His mouth was sealed shut by the thick, muscular thighs wrapped around his jaw and neck.

He considered himself an able exponent of numerous zero-G techniques, offensive and defensive. He could move efficiently in a broad range of gravitational fields. He was versed in a variety of combat skills. Even if he was outclassed by a bigger, more powerful opponent — some fights just couldn’t be won in a direct confrontation — he was proficient enough to distance himself and seek an escape. Or so he had thought.

Bam was far more experienced than him, he acknowledged that. She hadn’t just dominated the fight, she had guided him into making moves with a precision that would have been embarrassing if she wasn’t so far beyond him that it turned into a free masterclass.

She also knew he wasn’t a woman. Something he had expected to be obvious but for some reason, no one else had noticed.

The only difference between the others and Bam, as far as Point-Two could tell, was that she didn’t have an ocular implant. Was that how Ubik had done it? He had made it so the implants gave the wrong information, but it seemed it had done more than change people’s names.

They were locked together, floating in the middle of the ring, away from the walls that might have given him something to gain leverage from. The two of them spun slowly, under her direction, keeping him from gaining any situational balance. He would say she was toying with him if it weren’t for the fact she never let her clear superiority turn into overconfidence.

Every move he had tried, thinking he had found the way out of a hold or a throw, had immediately revealed itself as a trap, and she had been waiting for him to fall into it so she could follow up with an even more devastating combination of impossible to deal with moves.

The thighs now clamped to his face were surprisingly smooth and silky. The muscles weren’t overdeveloped with bulk, they were taught and lean, designed for strength, not show.

His hands were free, but they weren’t of much use. They slid along the gently rippling musculature, finding no chink in her defences. He considered using some inappropriately intimate attack on her lower body to get himself free but that just felt petulant.

In a real fight, he would force himself to be patient and wait for an opportunity. She wasn’t trying to kill him, so either the bout would end or she would grow tired.

There was no shame in losing to a better opponent. And she was on home ground. If she wanted to make a point about who was the dominant female in this arena, she had every right to do so.

Point-Two tensed his neck muscles to prevent his oesophagus from collapsing and continued his shallow breathing.

Just as he accepted the position he was in and gave up on trying to find a way to break free, he sensed a change as her legs switched places, the lower one rising behind his head as the one covering his mouth slid down.

He was pivoted around the top of his spine and before he had a chance to react, she had flipped him over and mounted him from behind, her arms now where her legs had been and her face pressed to the back of his neck.

“Who do you work for?” she whispered from next to his ear.

She had her forearm in front of his face. The metallic wrist guards she wore were polished to a mirror finish. His eyes and one squashed nostril were reflected back at him, along with half of Bam’s angled face peeking out from behind his head. Her eyes were locked onto his.

“Which family sent you? Was it the company? Who?”

He couldn’t say anything with his throat constricted, he could only communicate his confusion through the wrist guard reflection.

She tightened her hold. “Who was it? Node? Don’t play dumb, the agents swarming outside aren’t here to watch the show. Are they here to dismantle the resistance?”

He couldn’t make his confusion any clearer or any more acute. He really had no idea what she was going on about. Although, if there were agents outside, he had a pretty good idea who they were here for.

She let go of him and pushed him away. “Ha. You really don’t know anything, do you?”

Point-Two rubbed his throat as he fell against the wall. It was spongy and you could kick off it or, if you were moving fast enough, you could fly through it. The person being thrown was in control of how they wished to use it, the fighting was carefully controlled and choreographed, combatants working together. Usually.

“Okay, I’m done,” she said, indicating through the wall that she wanted to come down. They both gently floated to the ring floor.

“Good workout,” said Teenha. Point-Two’s utter defeat had come as no surprise to the other women. “Let’s hit the showers and then get some rest. The show goes live at eleven.”

The women got up and started heading back to the changing room.

Point-Two landed on the floor and took a moment to regain his balance and his breath.

“You smell bad,” said Bam, towering over him. “That’s how I know you aren’t one of them. Spies smell clean, because they think it hides how dirty they are. You smell like you’ve been in the same clothes for days.”

“I have,” said Point-Two.

She nodded. “On the run. Who are you running from? Why come here? There’s some crazy shit going on right now, you might have been better off to keep running.”

She could outmanoeuvre him and outfight him, and all while wearing nine-inch platform heels. Any extension of limbs made zero-G mobility more complex. She had made it look easy.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Point-Two.

“I know,” said Bam. “I can see it in your eyes. You have very clear eyes, they don’t hide much. But you didn’t go to all the trouble of making yourself one of us for no reason.”

“How come you can see me properly?”

She tapped a finger under one eye. “No ocular blindness. That’s how they control us, make us see what they want us to see. But you can tap into the network. That makes you useful.”

“Ladies, please,” said Teenha from the stairs.

“Come on. I’m sure you want to hit the showers. They’re communal.” She put an arm around his shoulders and guided him firmly towards the edge of the platform and shoved him off it.

He landed gracefully but an arm thumped him on the back and Bam was next to him in an instant.

“You know, someone who can fool the network is someone worth knowing. You just might be the girl of my dreams, Janeane.”

“I think you’ve got it wrong,” said Point-Two, as he was led from behind. “I didn’t do anything. I have no idea how to access your network.”

“Just a lucky coincidence?”

“No. But not my doing. You’ve got the wrong, er, girl.”

“Oh, you had help? Okay. I like meeting new people. The more the merrier.” Ahead of them on the stairs, Teenha waited impatiently. “Let’s be discreet though. There are people watching.” Her arm closed around his neck.

“Nice to see you getting on so well,” said Teenha. “She’s new, Bam. Don’t use her up all at once.”

“No fear,” said Bam. “I’ll be extra careful with this one.”

Point-Two had the distinct impression he wasn’t the first new recruit to fall into Bam’s clutches.

They walked through the changing room, not with equal eagerness, towards the entrance to the showers, the sound of running water and wisps of steam greeting them.

“Hey, go easy on her,” said the girl who had been crying earlier. She still had a glum look about her. “You don’t want a sexual harassment charge. Again.”

“Just taking a shower together, Chrys,” said Bam. “Completely consensual, right?”

Point-Two wasn’t sure what to say. A refusal was likely to offend. He shrugged and said, “Sorry for your loss.”

The girl’s bottom lip trembled. “Some things aren’t meant to be. Those meteors falling were his way of saying goodbye. They were so beautiful...” She started to sob again.

“Good work,” said Bam, shaking her head.

“Sorry, I didn’t—”

Bam pushed Point-Two into the wet room where naked women glistened in soap suds. “Don’t worry about it. Only Chrystal could see a natural disaster and make it about herself. Now take your clothes off.”

Point-Two did need a wash, there was no doubt about it. But he felt a little awkward sneaking into a women’s shower room under false pretences.

Bam stripped off her corset and tossed it in a corner, unzipped her boots and stepped out of them so she was only a little taller than Point-Two. She had an impressive physique.

She passed her hand across the nearest wall and powerful jets of water fell in a deafening cacophony. Water flowed down her hills and valleys.

“Don’t be shy. Let’s see what you’ve got. Chill, you’re not my type, just want to make sure you aren’t wired for sound. I wouldn’t put it past them to try the long con and slip you in as a poor little runaway looking for shelter. My weakness is I have a thing for lost strays.”

Point-Two wasn’t sure who it was she was wary of, or even if they were real. She struck him as a little paranoid. He removed the guild greys and walked into a powerful spray of hot water. It was the best he’d felt in days. None of the other women reacted to his alternative anatomy. Ocular blindness was a powerful thing, clearly.

Skin pushed up against him and hands roughly applied soap to his back. “We can talk under the water. Disrupts any eavesdropping. Now tell me, who’s this friend of yours who can tap into an Ollo network?”

The way she spat out the Ollo name suggested to Point-Two that he not bring up his relationship with the heir to the dynasty.

“Um, I’m not sure you want to meet him.”

“Why not?” A hand slipped in under his arm and soaped his chest. “He sounds like exactly what we’re looking for. We have a few minor problems he could help us with.”

“He’s not really a problem solver, more of a problem multiplier. Best you let us pass through. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I doubt it will make much difference with what’s happening up there.”

“The asteroid? You heard about that, huh? Everyone wants a piece of that alien garbage. I hope it eats them all alive. And the wormhole. Money and power, that’s the only thing they care about. And Ramon Ollo controlling it all, keeping it to himself. You think that’s good? You like that?” She was washing him very vigorously now.

“I, uh, no, uh, could you…”

“He takes everything, and the people who are meant to look out for us, they’re no better, just want to take his place. The real Enayans, we don’t see any of the benefits they promise us.” She worked the muscles in his shoulders. It felt good but somehow wrong. “There are some people, though, good people, who want to make a difference. Make things better. I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re in, but we could help you, and you could help us. People with your sort of know-how, you’d come in very useful. There’s someone you should meet, someone you can trust.”

“You said, ah, no, not there, you said there were agents outside.”

“Nothing to worry about. I can sneak you out of here. You and your friend. Get you somewhere safe. What did you do, kill someone?”

Point-Two’s head was feeling a little light. Bam’s hands weren’t only good at fighting. Waves of pleasure ran up and down his spine. “The meteor storm.”

“That was you?”

“Central Authority ship. Self-destruct.”

The hands stopped moving. “You destroyed a CA vessel?”

Clarity returned with a resounding thump as Point-Two was spun around and slammed against the wall. Bam pushed up against him, up against all of him. “Just who are you?”

“Ah, sorry to interrupt.”

Point-Two turned his head to the side where a small drone was hovering under a cascade of water. The voice coming out of it was decidedly familiar.

“Got a moment?” said Ubik. “I seem to have got myself in a little hot water.”

“I know the feeling,” said Point-Two through the water hitting him in the face. “Want to switch places?”

“Love to,” said Ubik. “Can’t actually move at the moment. Head honcho of FLEM wanted a chat. Turns out the guys who run this place aren’t just interested in the fighting game. They want to fight the whole planet. They’re looking for ‘volunteers’.”

“That your friend?” said Bam. Point-Two nodded. “He’s in the office?”

Point-Two nodded again. “This person you want us to meet, can you set something up on short notice?”

Bam smiled. “No need. Looks like your friend already found him. Welcome to the resistance.”