Upgrade (60 page)

“You told me,” said Carter.
 
“Just a moment ago.”

“I didn’t—”

“Does it matter?”
 
The radio hissed static for a moment.
 
“I’m here.
 
You’re there.
 
We got this shitty radio and nothing else for company.”

“What did Mason say?”
 
Sadie looked down at the guitar, saw her feet stretched out on the old floor in front of her.
 
“When he asked you for help.”

“It’s not important,” said Carter.

“Am I going to die?”
 
Sadie swallowed.
 
“Am…
 
Is this the last time I’m going to play?”

The radio was quiet for a few moments.
 
When Carter spoke again, her voice was soft, almost gentle.
 
“No.
 
No, you’re not going to die.”

“How do you know?
 
How can you be sure?”

“I made him
promise
,” said Carter.

Sadie hadn’t known she was going to stand before she found herself upright, the Stratocaster held in one hand, her steps taking her closer to the radio.
 
“You what?”

“I made him promise,” said Carter.
 
“The mission parameters don’t allow me much leeway, but I can ask him for something.
 
A favor, a little extra…
 
Some honesty, between friends.”

“What did you ask him for?”

“I asked him to bring you back alive,” said Carter.
 
“I made him promise to keep you safe.”

“Me?”
 
Sadie looked around the room, blinking in the half light.
 
“Why?”

“Because,” said Carter, “you’re going to keep him…
 
You’re going to keep him on the right path, once this is done.”

“Hey,” said Sadie, “I don’t know what crack cocaine they put in the water coolers up at Asshole HQ, but once we’re back in the world I’m done with you guys.
 
No offense.”

“No,” said Carter.
 
“No you’re not.
 
Not unless you don’t want the bar.”

“The bar?”
 
Sadie blinked.
 
“What bar?”

“Whichever one you want,” said Carter.
 
“Pick a place.”

“Like
The Hole
?”

“Like
The Hole
,” said Carter, “except maybe one with more class.”

“It’s not about the class,” said Sadie.
 
“They’re my people.”

“Sure, okay, whatever,” said Carter.
 
“The Hole.
 
You want it?”

“I—”

“The deed.
 
The rights.”

“Bernie will never sell it.”
 
Sadie frowned.
 
“Doesn’t he have to agree to sell it?”

“Your company overlords say no,” said Carter.
 
“Running a bar is risky business.”

“I—”

“He’s a rapist and a murderer,” said Carter, “if that helps.”

“It doesn’t really,” said Sadie.
 
“You’re saying you’d kill Bernie to give me a bar to help you out, and justifying it because Bernie’s an asshole.”

“He’s more than an asshole.”

“Still.”

The radio was silent for a moment.
 
“This is why I made him promise,” said Carter.
 
“You’re the right choice.”

“What?”

“You’ve got a deal, Sadie Freeman,” said Carter.
 
“Your word that you’ll help Mason see straight.
 
The days ahead are going to cloud what’s right and wrong.
 
He needs a true north.”

“I—”

“In exchange, I guarantee you the title of the bar called The Hole.
 
Bernie Eckers will not be harmed in the transaction, except perhaps in the manner of future lost earnings.”
 
Carter paused.
 
“Your word, Freeman.”

Sadie sat back down in the chair.
 
“I—”

“It’s a good offer,” said Carter.
 
“I’m being honest here.”

“You might think that,” said Sadie, “but I don’t…
 
I haven’t heard you play.”

“Then let’s play,” said Carter.

⚔ ⚛ ⚔

Sadie sat still in the chair, the memory of the music still lingering on the old walls around her.
 
“That was…”

“You can still play,” said Carter.
 
“For what it’s worth, you can still play.
 
No crowd, Freeman, and you made that Stratocaster sing.”

Sadie’s hand came up to her face, coming away wet.
 
She laughed.
 
“You’re right,” she said.
 
“I can still play.”

“Don’t forget it,” said Carter.
 
“One thing I know? Humans suck at remembering what they’re good at.”

“You want me to be good at something else,” said Sadie, the smile dropping from her face.
 
“You want me to be—”

“Not something else,” said Carter.
 
“Something more.”

“Something more,” said Sadie.

“Right,” said Carter.
 
“I want you to be more than the music.
 
I want you to be yourself.
 
But do it with more enthusiasm.
 
Do we have a deal?”

Sadie walked over to the wall, leaning the Stratocaster against it before flicking off the amp.
 
She walked back to the radio, putting a hand on the top, her fingers lingering against the old plastic.
 
“Thank you, Carter.”

“Then we have a deal?”

“Sure,” said Sadie.
 
She flicked the radio off, then let her feet walk her out into the street beyond.

“They’re gonna unplug you and leave you outside in the rain to rust,” said Lace.
 
“They don’t handle faulty intel well at all.”

“Sure,” said Harry, shifting from foot to foot in the mud.
 
If he could just find a square of solid ground…
 
If he kept moving, he was going to sink.
 
That was the problem with the chassis — built for urban pacification.
 
Damn engineers didn’t think about a day out in the woods.
 
“The problem is, the intel’s fine.
 
The source is faulty.”

“Don’t tell them that,” said Lace.
 
“You sure Mason said 2pm?
 
Here?”

“Yeah,” said Harry.
 
“That’s what he said.”

“At the Great Wheel?”

“Yeah, at the…
 
I don’t think it’s called that anymore,” said Harry.
 
“Since they moved it.
 
How much you reckon that thing weighs?”

“Before it fell apart and the cars broke?
 
More than you.
 
I’m still going to call it the Great Wheel.”

“It doesn’t look great,” said Harry.
 
“It looks unsafe.”

“Hey,” said a man to Harry’s right, as one of Harry’s legs shifted and a gout of muddy water shot sideways.

“Sorry,” said Harry over the PA.
 
“Damn rain, right?”

“Right,” said the man brushing water off his leg, then moving to check his weapon — a long black energy rifle of Federate design.
 
He said something else under his breath that sounded like, “Asshole.”

Harry shrugged, the chassis shifting.
 
“Lace?”

“What?”

“It’s 1.55pm.
 
What you got on the satellite?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” said Lace.
 
“How much ammo did you bring?”

Harry froze, then turned the chassis around in a full 360, scanning the woods around them.
 
He switched the overlay into thermal, the trees turning a stark cold blue, the metal of the giant wheel almost black.
 
“Ah, Christ.”

“I don’t think JC’s your problem,” said Lace.
 
“You’re a big boy.
 
You can sort it out.
 
It’s just
people
.”

Harry watched the tactical map fill up on his overlay, the positions of his team mapped out in yellow markers.
 
Around the edges of the park, a mass of red dots were filled in as Lace fed information from the orbiting satellite.

“That’s a lot of dudes,” said Harry.
 
“They’re all around the park.
 
Circumference of what, about ten klicks?”

“More or less,” said Lace.
 
“It looks like there’s a few gaps, but also some areas where they’re two or three deep.
 
I give you maybe three or four thousand around the edge of the park.”

“Give me a tactical confirmation of weapons and armor,” said Harry.
 
“Four thousand?
 
You sure?”

“Numbers are still coming up,” said Lace.
 
“Computer’s a bit slow.”

“It’s three thousand and seventy six,” said Carter, cutting in across the link.
 
“Seventy seven.
 
Seventy eight.
 
Numbers are growing at the northern edge of the park, next to the metropolitan transit station.”

“You’re going to have to tell me how you do that,” said Lace.
 
“It’s a secure line, for Christ’s sake.”

“Not that secure,” said Carter.
 
“I can also tell you that many of them are armed, but aren’t holding their weapons.”

“What’s that mean?” said Harry.

“Were you made aware of a tactical operation conducted by the Metatech syndicate earlier today?”
 
Carter paused.
 
“Little Italy.”

“I’m not plugged into their inner circle,” said Harry.
 
“What happened?”

“I’m not sure,” said Carter.
 
“I only have CCTV.
 
The images are… confusing.”

“Shit,” said Lace.
 
“If super brain finds them confusing, we’re in trouble.”

Harry switched on the PA.
 
“Pull Burke and Finnagen out of the trailer.
 
We’re going to deploy our surprise a bit early.”

The man to his right looked up.
 
“Really?”

“Yeah.
 
I’ll get Lace to update your tactical overlay with the current situation, but we’re going to need to evac.”

“Evac?” said the man.
 
“What about Mason?”

“If he’s here, he’s well fucked,” said Harry.
 
“Go on.
 
Get Burke and Finnagen out.”

“Whatever,” said the man, walking off towards the trees.

“The problem,” said Carter, “seems to be the use of a new and experimental drug.”

“New?” said Lace.
 
“Is it related to the guys at the edge of the park?”

“They’re not at the edge anymore,” said Carter.
 
“They’re moving at a run to your location, Fuentes.”

“Crap,” said Lace.
 
“Harry, get out of there.”

“And yeah,” said Carter.
 
“The people at the edge of the park are probably linked to the drug.”

“Three thousand?”
 
Lace paused.
 
“What kind of drug is it?”

“It’s some kind of psychotic,” said Carter.
 
“A crowd of people attacked a small Metatech squad earlier today.”

“Three thousand?” said Lace again.
 
“Three thousand people have taken a new drug that drives them to psychosis?”

“No,” said Carter.
 
“There’s a sympathetic reaction that I haven’t tracked down yet, but the effect seems to spread very much like a virus.
 
Or parasite.”

“The weapons division are going to pitch a tent,” said Lace.
 
“We going to get a sample?”

“I think you’re going to get all the samples you need in about two minutes,” said Carter.
 
“Harry?”

“Yeah, Carter?”

“Don’t die, ok?”

“Thanks, Carter,” said Harry, but the click of the link said she was already gone.

“What was that about?” said Lace.

“I’ll tell you later,” said Harry.
 
“Where’s my air support?”

His optics dropped a box around something running a ragged path through the undergrowth.
 
Someone
.
 
Off to his left he heard the distinctive rising whine of a Federate energy weapon, the crump of the discharge sudden.
 
One of the Federate soldiers screamed, “Contact!” before the chatter of a heavy weapon filled the air.
 
Orange and yellow heat shapes moved through the trees.
 
Ten people.
 
Fifty.
 
A hundred
.

Harry took a couple of steps forward, the ratchet of machinery loud against his back as the coilgun locked in over his shoulder.
 
The overlay spat up a targeting solution as the lazy haze of overtime dropped in around him.

He started firing, the hiss and crack of the coilgun repeating again and again.
 
Somewhere behind him he could hear another conversion coming online —
Burke
— and the roar of a plasma weapon discharging.
 
A tree in front of Harry exploded, fragments raining down, and bodies were tossed through the air.

“Lace,” said Harry, the words stretched and thin through overtime.
 
“Air support?”

“Inbound,” she said.
 
“You’ve got four minutes.
 
Try not to die, ok?”

“On it,” he said.

⚔ ⚛ ⚔

“Not bad,” said Lace.
 
“You only lost the humans.”

“You,” said Harry, “sound a lot perkier today.
 
I’m not sure I like it.”
 
He swiveled the chassis about, scanning the perimeter.
 
Smoke still rose from the middle of the blasted tree, a set of bodies scattered at its feet, the old roots holding them in death.
 
His optics picked out a Federate uniform, a body with an arm missing, a child still holding a stuffed toy of some kind.