System Seven (18 page)

“Programming. Lack of
experience. Everyone
is
their meta
self and are influenced moment to moment by the flow of meta, both their own
and those around them. As for traveling, you will learn to recognize meta, to
the point of it feeling physical. You will master your meta self and life will
get interesting after that.”

“You mean more
interesting.”

Marcel smiled.
“Precisely.”

“And what about the
wind? Nothing you’ve said addresses that.”

He leveled a gaze at Austin.
“I can tell you that Raon is not as stable as we are taught. Its underlying
structure is reliant on a kind of quantum foam, which is reliant on certain...
unique variables. Put simply, some people have the ability to disturb the foam.
You are one of them.”

“I am?”

“Almost certainly.”

“How do I do it?”

“The mechanics are
complex and not fully understood yet. What we do know is that it involves
elevated quantum activity in your neural functions. With the addition of
certain proteins and frequency therapy directed at your brain, the activity can
be scaled up, making a method of entanglement possible – a synchronization of
thought and intention with the underlying quantum fabric of matter. You already
touched on it and apparently have a naturally elevated affinity. That is what
most excites Edward. Many of us, to be honest. Part of your future will no
doubt involve trying to enhance those functions.”

“Protein additions?”

“More on that later,
but right now we’ll talk a bit about dreams and then it will be time for the
stress test. Time for a little nap.”

• • •

The headlights of the stolen Audi scoured the
pavement ahead, a shining lance that pulled them safely along towards Elburg.
After the shooting, the train station parking lot at UitGeest provided a new
transport. Ensconced in black leather, Johan and Anki fed on the composure of
the sedan. Soft jazz provided relief from the mad dash of the past couple
hours.

Just before midnight
they passed the coastal town of Enkuizen and turned onto the Markerwaarddijk, a
narrow strip of land separating the IJsselmeer and Markermeer lakes. For thirty
kilometers the nearly-full moon traveled with them and acted as an anchor in
the unpredictable night. There was no use discussing their situation – it was
too extreme and would play out with escape or capture. Instead they agreed to
stay in the bubble of the moment and began exploring the gap between online and
real life. Twenty kilometers in, their alchemy bore evidence of compatibility,
a good sign should the future allow them a chance.

Leaving the
Markerwaarddijk, they passed two police cars stopped on the shoulder. Officers
retrieved fold-out barricades from their trunks.

Anki tensed.
“Checkpoints?”

Johan transitioned
onto the rural N302 inland, slipped the Audi into its highest gear, and
accelerated smoothly. The glowing road markers ticked by in a blur. “Just ahead
of their net. Doing good.”

Around one-thirty they
arrived in Johan’s neighborhood and drove past the house. City crews had done
the courtesy of installing plywood over the damaged second story window. Seeing
and sensing no danger, they circled back and went inside.

Johan went online and
secured airline tickets to Brazil using Max Dosch’s credit card; departure just
after noon. While Anki showered on the third floor, he gathered materials from
hiding spots around the house to prepare the templates for her Dutch identity
card and passport. She needed a makeover for the visa picture and she needed a
name.

“Andrie Van Gelder.”
The name came to him, an old school mate.

Upstairs, he retrieved
the makeup kit from the bathroom closet. He paused as Anki opened the shower
door and stepped out, her body glistening. “I don’t want to be morbid, but I
was just thinking… this may be our last chance ever.”

The surge returned,
energies intermingled, polarizing into the give and take pattern, drawing them
into a kiss. He engaged the mesh of her awareness and slid past lowered
defenses to settle into a molten bed of desire. The walls of her experience were
tensile-strength loyalty and commitment – focused solely on him
.
Her commitment went far deeper than he would have imagined. In that moment,
real love broke out, the molecules of its reality saturating all, usurping
safeguards, filling emotional reserves, and forging a bond. At the same time came
recognition of a liability being born. He chose not to suppress any of it; it
was what it was.

• • •

The comm buzzed. It
was his assistant. “Signus 1 is reporting a return on A2. The riders are vectoring now.”

Director Tomov turned
to the wall monitors in his office. “Give me the control room feed, all audio.”

“Patching now.”

“...familiar, agreed.
He’s back where he started.”

“Fragments. A blonde.
Anki?”

“Has to be. Can’t see
her yet but they must be having a helluva time.”

“What is that? Anyone
getting that? Is he trying to block us?”

The lead cut in,
taking charge. “Refocus, regroup. Boundaries?”

“Amsterdam wide,
between the city and the border with Germany. Arnhem, north to the sea.”

“Tighter. Wait... now,
he’s going for it. Strong point, follow me!”

Like in a game of Marco
Polo, the riders scanned, conveying their feedback to the leader, providing
measurements of the signals emanating from the target. “Keep tightening. I’m
starting the push.”

Just as the lead began
the active pressure towards A2, a black hole,
a nothingness
bloomed. Stunned, he held and tried to pierce it. The
four waited passively, not saying a word. Their silence conveyed their own
confusion.

“Irregularity there.
The target’s still up. Do we have them?”

With some hesitation,
all four refocused and checked in, confirming yes. The lead moved again and
cautiously applied pressure to the target... for the slightest of returns.

“Vector!”

They narrowed to a
twenty square kilometer radius before the blackness returned to interrupt.

“Irregularity again.
Significant blocking. He’s still up but something’s wrong here. We need another
panel. Forty percent urban coverage over twenty square klicks to deal with.”

“Confirmed. Requesting
a second panel. Field teams are deploying to the area.”

Director Tomov
signaled his assistant. “Is A2 doing that or is someone else involved? Tell
them I want a firm analysis.”

• • •

Anki gripped Johan’s
arms, eyes locked onto his, and matched rhythm. She’d let go from the start,
surrendering physically, then completely. He flowed through her like a
narcotic, birthing intimate, provocative emotions. In the smallest center of
her being, she knew him directly, felt the charge of his thoughts, the pulse of
his soul. She went to join him there, following a thin thread of possibility.

As if waiting for her
arrival, he released a love so rich and genuine that she was overcome. Soul to
soul, the feeling bloomed until tears welled in her eyes. It felt an eternity
she’d waited for just that moment.
Their
love, not only her own. The sharing triggered an avalanche that drove the arc
and cadence of their bodies. She cried out and dug her fingers into his back,
soaring through a timeless pleasure with ancient rhythm.

Time snapped back in
line when Johan shifted awareness. A wedge formed between them, creating a
space tinged with fear. The others were returning
.

“They’ll find us,” she
whispered.

“No.” His presence
surged, an almost physical bending of thought that drew her into him. She cast
off again, surrendering to a joining more consuming than any she’d ever
imagined
.

• • •

Afterward, it wasn’t
clear why it worked. They’d started to track him at the wrong damn time, at
their most vulnerable. Defiance led him to conjure a very empty, very useless
mental image, grossly negative and heavy. It appeared as an object, hidden from
Anki in a split space. He used the object, fully intending to block them, like
clamping a hand over a camera lens. The pressure abruptly halted. He’d done it
three more times before he and Anki finished.

The idea that a
strongly formed mental construct could affect their processes proved thrilling.
The hunters were like him except they had
training he didn’t
.

Another realization
was more disturbing: for the second time during sex there had been another
presence, an awareness unlike the hunters, piggybacking his thoughts as light
as a moth. He’d had no defense, no way to detach or shield from it, and it
passed with each coupling. He had to think something else was watching them.

He wiped tears from
Anki’s face, tears she said were as much for the perfection of their joining as
for the love she’d felt. Whether or not they’d have the chance to explore their
new union remained to be seen. To have felt it though, gave him strength and
courage.

He kissed her. “Let’s
get you changed into Andrie.”

Twenty minutes later,
Anki’s platinum blondeness was gone, replaced by a dark, wet mass soaking in
brunette dye. The risk they’d taken in the bedroom and the confrontation in his
head presented a gnawing regret that he tried to shake. He focused on Anki’s
makeup and continually shifted mood and thoughts, avoiding any one mental space
too long. The hunters hadn’t returned though it could only be a matter of time.

She pointed again to a
droplet forming above her forehead. He dabbed with a cloth protect his work. The
glue on the chin, cheekbone, and brow pads had just about set. The size and placement of the pads would
cancel out face-matching systems at the airports although they robbed her of
her natural beauty.

“Almost there. You
okay?”

She nodded as she
wasn’t allowed to talk or stretch her face.

“Don’t move, I’m going
to spray now. Here, dab as you need to. Close your eyes.”

Using a micro-airbrush
he applied the skin coloring to hide the white latex pads. Like a real-life
photoshop, the pads became part of her face. After drying he had her stretch a
bit then applied sealer. No melting faces in the rain.

He stepped back to
take in his work. The effect was natural and dramatic: she just wasn’t the same
woman. A timer sounded.

“Okay give it another
minute then rinse but very carefully. No peeking until we dry your mop!”

She finished toweling
her hair just as he returned with his Max Dosch pads.

“This is
unbelievable,” she said, finally looking in the mirror. “A stranger. I’m a
stranger.
This is so, so odd.”

“Give it a few minutes
then start with your makeup. Bring out your cheekbones.”

He went to work on himself.
Twenty-five minutes later his new face dried while he prepared a suitcase.
Downstairs, he snapped Andrie Van Gelder’s photo for her ID, had her change her
shirt, changed the lighting, background, and adjusted zoom before taking
another for her passport. From a shoe box he selected two ink stamps, one from
England’s Heathrow and the other from Brussels, Belgium.

“Not well traveled, am
I?”

“Sorry, no time for
you to be. Remember the dates. I have simple stories for those trips if you
need them. You can ad lib, I hope. Are you a good liar?”

“Aren’t we all?”

After applying his own
makeup he prepared a message to Soldado with a request for hospitality upon
arrival. A request to meet in person might shock him but with the right
protocols he should accommodate.

“Andrie? It’s time to
roll.”

“I’ve decided I don’t
like my face, Johan, it’s–”

“No, it’s Max. Max
Dosch.”

“Okay,
Max
, my face is boxy, without grace,”
she said with a pout. “You really screwed the pooch.”

“You are lovely, my
dear Andrie. Simply lovely. Now come, it’s time to go and start a new life.”

• • •

“Whoever he is, he’s
evaded.”

Director Tomov
listened to the update, as unhappy as he’d felt in a long while. Duty started
in half an hour and he’d hoped for better news. The Executives wouldn’t like
it.

“Continue.”

“We are setting up at
airports and train stations. Ground and air units have been assigned to major
roadways. Local law has been alerted, as have the media – the Rotterdam Butcher
is in Amsterdam. Overseer has nothing yet so we feel confident the material has
not been disseminated.”

“Acknowledged.”

Tomov disconnected and
stared at the old clock his friend Mamar had given him. Its familiar tick
filled the room. As always, the second hand took a tiny step backward before
moving forward into the next, as if protesting the movement its very existence
served.

Such a familiar
feeling.