Upgrade (68 page)

Lace smiled, but it was tired and faint.
 
“The mission.”

“What mission?”

“When Floyd and Haraway went off-grid?”

“Right.
 
Those assholes had me in high orbit, dropped me in to—”

“Yeah, that one.
 
I took a look at a the feed from Floyd’s overlay.”

“You can do that?”

“No,” said Lace.
 
“But I did it anyway.”

“But—”

“Carter’s not the only one with tricks,” said Lace.
 
“I’m not just a pretty face.”

“Do I want to know what’s on it?”

“Nothing.
 
That’s what I’m saying.
 
It’s scrubbed.”

“Mason went off-link.”
 
Harry used a big metal hand to tap the face of the chassis.
 
“He dropped comms.”

“That was after,” said Lace.
 
“He didn’t drop comms until
well
after.
 
They’re covering something up.
 
And I think I know what it is.”

Harry clanked along without saying anything, waiting for Lace to finish.

“Harry?
 
Do you use the world ‘sublime’ a lot?”

“I don’t think so.”
 
Harry swiveled to look at her.
 
“Sublime?
 
No.”

“No one does,” said Lace.
 
“The word stuck with me.”

“Why?”

“I like old music,” said Lace.
 
“There’s this band—”

“Forget I asked,” said Harry.
 
“I hate your music collection.”

“You never complained at the barbecue.”

“I like steak more than I hate your music collection.
 
Liked, anyway.
 
Sublime’s a song?”

“It’s a band,” said Lace.
 
“Long time ago.
 
Haraway used the word in-mission.
 
And Gairovald used it as well, right before comms got dumped.”

“So?”

Lace looked up at him.
 
“Do you know what human coded conditioning is?”

“No clue,” said Harry.

“Right,” said Lace.
 
“Let’s say you have a human, and you crack their head open—”

“Literally?
 
Like literally crack their head open?”

“Maybe,” said Lace.
 
“Could be drugs.
 
Could be we pop the top of your skull off.
 
Might even use the link wetware.
 
It’s wired in pretty deep.”

“Ok,” said Harry.

“We crack their head open, and put in certain words.”

“Like teaching them German?”

“Not even a little bit like it.”
 
Lace frowned.
 
“I can speak German, learn it easy enough with the link.
 
Takes a few seconds, and bam, I know German.”

“You know German?”

She sighed.
 
“Let’s try again.
 
It’s like using a word or combination of words.
 
Laid out in a certain way.
 
And…
 
They can make you do something.”

“Like what?”
 
Harry stepped around a pile of garbage.
 
“Do your taxes on time?”

“Maybe,” said Lace.
 
“Might also make you do whatever someone wanted.
 
If that’s taxes, fine.
 
What if it’s killing someone, or betraying everyone you’ve ever known?”

Harry stamped on for a moment without speaking.
 
“Carter’s been human, uh, human—”

“Human coded conditioning.
 
Yeah, I think she has.”

“Uh,” said Harry.

“Yeah,” said Lace.

“Uh…
 
Wait.
 
She’s on mission.
 
She’s Mason’s handler.”

“Yeah,” said Lace.
 
She looked at her hands.
 
They were clenched in her lap, the chair pushing her along on silent wheels.

“That means—”

“Yeah,” said Lace.
 
“Carter’s in really, really big trouble.”

“Sure,” said Harry.
 
“What about Mason?
 
And Haraway?”

“I don’t know about Mason,” said Lace.
 
“Seems pretty capable.”
 
She threw him a glance, then looked away.

“It’s ok,” said Harry.
 
“It wasn’t his fault.”

“I know,” she said, her voice small.

“What about Haraway then?”

“Thing is,” said Lace, “I think Haraway’s a problem.”

“You do?”

“Yes,” said Lace.
 
“Because if I’m right, she used the same goddamn code words.”

“As Gairovald?”

“Same words, Harry.
 
Same words as the boss.”

“Uh,” said Harry.

“Yeah,” said Lace.
 
She looked up at him, her face miserable.
 
“I spent this afternoon wondering what it’s like to live as a slave.
 
If I’m right, Carter’s been living like that for a lot longer than an afternoon.
 
You asked me if I hated her.
 
I don’t hate her, Harry.
 
I don’t hate her at all.”

“You think she’s a slave?”

“I don’t know what to think.
 
I don’t know what to do.”

“Tell you what,” said Harry.

“What?”

“Let’s make it through the night, and see if we’re still alive enough in the morning to do something.”

“But—”

“They’re off-link, Lace.”
 
Harry swiveled back forward.
 
“They come back on, we can talk to them.”

“I wish I knew where they were.”

“Me too,” said Harry.

“We’re doing what?”
 
Mike blinked at him.

Mason frowned.
 
“You’re talking like it’s a big deal.”

“It kind of is,” said Mike.
 
“It—”

“You don’t have guns?”
 
Mason looked at the Metatech logo on the man’s lapel, then back to his face.
 
“Don’t you guys make guns?”

“Reed make guns too,” said Mike.

“Good as yours?”

“Shit no,” said Mike.

“What’s the problem then?”

“There’s probably a hundred guys in there.
 
We’re probably going to die.”

Mason kicked a stone in the street, then ran a hand through rain-slick hair.
 
“That’s going to happen anyway.”

“What?”

“Zacharies.”

Mike stopped walking.
 
“What about him?”

“Thought so,” said Mason.

“What’s — what the fuck,” said Mike.

“It’s like this,” said Mason.
 
“The rain?”

“I know, the kid told me,” said Mike.
 
“He says it’s got some demon in it.
 
I said bullshit.”

“I don’t think it’s bullshit,” said Mason.

“You on drugs?”

“No more than usual,” said Mason.
 
“Mostly alcohol.
 
Drugs make the lattice edgy.”

“Yours got that glitch too?
 
I wish the geeks in R&D would iron that out.”

“They’re never going to,” said Mason.
 
“Wrong incentive.”

“I thought so too,” said Mike.
 
“Bad for the company if their assets go out on mission half-jacked.”

“Or all the way jacked,” said Mason.
 
He rubbed at the back of his neck where water was walking down toward the seams in his armor.
 
“Thing is, we’re talking around the issue.”

“What’s the issue?”

“That kid,” said Mason.

“Zacharies?
 
Or Laia?”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Mason.
 
“You feel responsible.”

“The hell I do,” said Mike.
 
“Kid dropped out of the sky on my lap.
 
I’m just…”
 
He stopped talking.

“Thought so,” said Mason.
 
“They kind of get under your skin, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” said Mike.
 
“What’s your point?”

“Reed.”

“Motherfuckers, sure,” said Mike.
 
“I’m not following, though.”

“Zacharies talked much about their old master?”

“Little bit,” said Mike.
 
“Not a lot.
 
Sounds like a real asshole.”

“And where is this real asshole right now?”

“Reed,” said Mike.
 
“They’ve got some new mind-controlling drug—”

“I don’t think it’s a drug,” said Mason.
 
“Not all the way, anyway.”

Mike walked along for a few moments, not saying anything.

“It’s not a drug,” said Mason.

“I heard you.”

“He’ll be trying to get them back.”

“You sure about that?”
 
Mike looked around.
 
“I don’t see him here.”

“He’s here,” said Mason.
 
He lifted an arm.
 
“The rain.”

Mike frowned.
 
“Hell.
 
If he was here, I’d be running at him.
 
Or away.
 
I’m not sure.”
 
The other man looked at his boots.
 
“Probably at him.
 
He sounds like he needs his face punched in.”

“Ok,” said Mason.
 
“I’m tired of running.”

“You’re tired?”
 
Mike looked back the way they’d come, the streets dark.
 
“You sure that’s why?”

“It’s not why.
 
There’s someone out there that needs their face punched in.”
 
Mason stopped.
 
“That girl saved my life.”

“Figures,” said Mike, a smile tugging at his face.
 
“I knew you Apsel pussies were soft, but I didn’t figure you for being saved by kids.”

Mason laughed.
 
It felt good.
 
“Yeah.
 
Well, it’s true.
 
I’m pretty sure…”

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure that kid saved
me
.
 
Not just my life.
 
And you know what?”

“You’re going to tell me.
 
I can feel it in my bones.”

“It’s time someone had the balls to save her.”

Mike looked at him for a moment.
 
“There’s no going back,” he said after a moment.
 
“The Syndicate Compact—”

“That thing’s been broken to pieces.
 
It’s an excuse.”

“You’re right,” said Mike.
 
“How we going to do this?”

“Back to the guns,” said Mason.
 
“How many you got?”

“A lot,” said Mike.

“What about guys?
 
You got a lot of guys?”

Mike frowned.
 
“I’ve got six guys.”

“That it?”

“Yep.”

Mason looked up at the rain.
 
“Then that’ll be enough.”

⚔ ⚛ ⚔

“Shotgun,” said Sadie.
 
She held the guitar case low in front of her with both hands.

Mason frowned at her.
 
“You want to ride in the front?”

“Damn straight,” she said.
 
“Last time you shut me in the back with the orphans and drones.”
 
She tossed Haraway a glance.
 
“No offense.”

“I think,” said Haraway, “that I’m going to pull rank.”

“What kind of rank?
 
We’re in the—”

Haraway flashed perfect teeth.
 
It wasn’t quite a smile.
 
“On the scale of corporate power, do you think that a research scientist is higher or lower than a musician?”

Sadie scuffed a black boot across the street.
 
“It depends who you talk to, I guess.”

“In the back,” said Haraway.

“Fuck,” said Sadie, but her answering grin said there was the start of something else in there somewhere.

Laia came out of the building they’d been using as a hotel for —
God, how long’s it been?
 
Days feel like months, out here away from the world
.
 
Mason tossed her a small smile.
 
“You going to be ok?”

Laia laughed, fierce and bright.
 
“Mike brought my brother back.
 
Yes.”

“Ok,” said Mason.
 
“Ok.
 
Oh.
 
Hey.
 
One sec.”
 
He turned away.

“Where are you going?”
 
Laia’s voice turned him around in his steps.
 
“We’re leaving.”

“Hey.
 
It’s ok.”
 
Mason looked at his hands.
 
“I forgot something.
 
I’ll just be a second.”
 
He turned away again, jogging back towards the building, the black of the Metatech armor light on his shoulders.
 
Say what you will about them — hell,
us
— but they make good combat tech
.
 
The local link into the suit was live and hot, and he could feel the texture of the wooden door through his gloves as he pushed it open.

He looked around the room, standing almost empty.
 
A few scattered items littered the room, the table where he and Laia had shared —

Enough
.
 
Mason shrugged his shoulders, then turned to look at it.
 
It was still in the corner where he’d left it, the box old and tatty, the leather handle on the top.
 
He flipped it onto the table, releasing the clasps, and looked at the dress.
 
It was old, the style lost to the world years ago.
 
He touched it with a gloved hand, feeling the rustle of the fabric against the tips of his gloves.
 
The sensation sparked down the link.