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Authors: David Roys

Tags: #Technological Fiction

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BOOK: Coding Isis
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‘Holy shit,’ he said.

By now Chris had both hands to his head and blood was pouring from his nose. There was no way they were going to pass this off as a stroke. And then, in an instant it was all over. Chris fell to the ground and twitched a little. His lips were moving and he looked like he was trying to say something to Joshua. He’d have to ask him what he’d said later.

Maynard stopped the drone from firing and made it safe once more. He watched as Joshua bent down to Chris’s body and felt his pulse, then he reached into Chris’s jacket and removed his key card. It was time for life to return to normal. Business as usual. There was such a lot to do. Maynard tapped on the keyboard and changed Joshua’s security settings back. He typed the return to base command and switched off the video feed. He forwarded the recording to Joshua so he could enjoy the playback later on.

FIFTY-TWO
 

Chris leaned over Joshua’s twitching body.

‘That was for Jasmine,’ he said.

Joshua looked as though he was trying to speak, but nothing much came out. The look in those bloody eyes was quite unmistakable. Shock. If he listened hard, he could almost guess that Joshua was saying
How?
Or maybe he was making the only noise he could make.

He took Joshua’s keycard and his phone and went back into the building. Joshua may have been shocked by what happened to him, but Chris was dumbfounded. He’d expected to hear the sound of a .50 caliber bullet popping through Joshua’s head, but instead he’d watched his head seemingly explode from the inside.
What the hell had those bastards created?
The alterations he had added to the system to swap his and Joshua’s images seemed to have worked flawlessly. If there was ever a piece of work he was proud of, this was it. At least if it had failed, he’d have never known about it.

He went back down the stairwell to his office. He figured it would take a while before anyone came looking in here. He signed in as Joshua and used the keycard. He grinned when he saw he had full access and set to work; he wasn’t in the clear yet.

It was over an hour before Maynard came into Chris’s office. The look on his face was priceless.

Chris smiled at him, ‘What’s the matter Maynard? Surprised to see me?’

Maynard opened his mouth as though he was going to speak but then simply closed it again.

‘Come over here,’ Chris said, ‘I’ve got something to show you.’

Maynard walked over to Chris’s workstation. He still had not said a word.

‘This is the feed from my camera,’ said Chris. ‘Do you recognize me?’

The image on the monitor showed Joshua’s face. Every movement Chris made was rendered as Joshua in such a flawless way that it was impossible to tell that the image was not real.

‘What have you done?’ said Maynard. ‘You piece of shit, what have you done?’

‘Easy, easy Maynard,’ said Chris. ‘You don’t want to go shooting your mouth off, or I won’t show you my other tricks.’

Chris clicked into a console window and typed a command. The feed from the camera that was showing Joshua’s face now changed to show Maynard’s face, except there was an image of Maynard right beside him looking over his shoulder. Even Maynard found it difficult to tell which image was the real one.

‘I know what you guys have been up to,’ said Chris, ‘so I’ve built a little insurance policy. If I were you I wouldn’t try using your toys on me, or anyone else for that matter, you’re never going to be sure who you’re killing. And good luck in finding my code. You’re going to need to start from scratch with your facial recognition routines if you don’t want to use what I’ve left you. I’ve deleted all of your previous backups.’

‘You’re a fucking dead man,’ said Maynard.

‘Oh no, I don’t think so. I appreciate you opening up Joshua’s system’s access, I’ve been very busy in the last hour. I’ve gathered enough evidence to keep me nice and safe and it’s in the cloud. You’ll never find it, but if I don’t keep signing in to my server, it’s going to be forwarded to every major news agency on the planet. If you thought WikiLeaks was a pain in the ass, you’ve seen nothing. Oh and I’ve taken a copy of Joshua’s death scene and all of the other recorded footage from your experimentation. You’ve been busy and I’m pretty sure there are laws against what you’ve been doing. If your drones fly, I’ll know and, believe me, they’re mine to control.’

‘What do you want?’

‘I want my life back. I want to go back to my old job, I want you to forget you ever met me. If you leave me alone, I’ll leave you to get on with whatever bullshit you and your government thinks is reasonable to fight its war on terror.’

‘So that’s it?’

‘That’s it. Oh and those toys you bought me for my research project? I’ll keep hold of those too. Now I think there’s a mess on your roof you need to get rid of. I think I’m going to take the rest of the day off, if that’s OK with you?’

Chris collected his keys from the drop-box and was pleased to see his car waiting for him in the car park. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten away with it, but he felt like he’d found a new life. He was determined to make good on his second chance.
To hell with work
, he said to himself. He planned to take a long holiday, as far away from D.C. as possible. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to stay in this town, or even this country. He drove back to his Georgetown house and felt a free man.

He opened the front door and could smell dinner cooking. This really was turning out to be his lucky day.

‘Hi honey I’m home,’ he shouted. Michelle came through and she threw her arms around him.

‘It’s good to see you,’ she said. ‘How was your day?’

‘Oh it was pretty good. I think I did some of my best work today.’

‘Really,’ said Michelle, ‘what did you do?’

‘I don’t think you’d understand.’

Michelle seemed satisfied with that answer, and had suffered enough technobabble for one lifetime that she had learned never to pursue Chris on work matters when she had been let so easily off the hook.

‘I made dinner,’ she said. ‘Would you like a glass of wine?’

‘I could sure use a drink.’

FIFTY-THREE
 

Chris woke before the alarm and felt well rested for the first time he could remember. It could have been that he’d had a good night’s sleep, but deep down he knew that an incredible pressure had been lifted from him; he felt light inside. He looked at Michelle in the half-light of dawn and tried to figure out if she was asleep, she looked so peaceful. It brought back memories of what seemed like decades ago, how he liked to watch her sleep and how he had spent many early mornings just watching her, with her child-like innocence. He’d been working too hard, and yes, he’d probably neglected her. He knew that she understood, but should she need to understand? This was a new day and chance to make a new start. From now on things were going to be different and the work-life balance would be more balanced. It was time for Michelle to do something; time for her to follow her dream. Maybe she would go to law school and he could take it easy, lecturing at the university and laying off on the research.

He would let her sleep today so he could go for a run in the park before work. It seemed fitting somehow, after all they had been through, to go to the place where it all began and put this whole thing behind him. The closure would be good for him. A fresh start.

He pushed himself out from under the covers slowly, being careful not to disturb Michelle. As he stood she moved slightly causing him to stop and hold his breath. A few seconds passed and still he waited, watching her, willing her to stay asleep. She snuggled back into her pillow and he breathed again, letting out a long slow sigh.

Chris walked quietly to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face before looking in the mirror. He studied his face; he looked older than he thought he should. Tired.

He didn’t hear Michelle come into the bathroom and he jumped when she grabbed his ass.

‘Hey gorgeous, how about bringing these buns of steel back to bed?’ She dug her nails in.

Chris laughed. ‘Oh you like my firm ass do you?’ he said with a mocking seriousness, as though he was selling a product. He reached back and grabbed her wrists and pulled her round to face him.

‘You know I do,’ she said. She gave him a small kiss and bit his top lip.

‘Then let me go for my workout,’ said Chris. He grabbed her waist with one hand and swept her up with the other. She giggled as he carried her through to the bedroom, and gave a girlish scream as he threw her onto the bed. Chris turned to grab his running gear and she slapped the bed in mock-disgust. 

‘I might not be here when you get back you know?’

Chris knew she was joking. It was a routine they had played out many times before but somehow this time the words seemed to hit harder.

‘I love you Michelle,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t spent enough time with you.’

‘Come here,’ she said.

He walked over toward the bed and she hit him with her pillow. Chris fell forward and landed on top of her and she squealed. He kissed her and then he grabbed her wrists and held her down whilst planting kisses on her neck, over her breasts, down her tummy. All the time she squirmed and kicked.

‘I’ve gotta go,’ he said. ‘I need to go and say goodbye to someone.’

‘I’ll be here when you get back,’ she said with a smile.

‘I know.’

Chris left the house, headed along Georgia Avenue and took Longfellow Street towards Rock Creek Park. The air was still fresh and cool but he could tell it was going to be another hot and humid day. It took a few minutes to get into his stride but pretty soon he was making a good pace heading up to Madison Street. The city was just shaking off the night and the streets were all but deserted. A hardware store owner was lifting the shutters and putting his displays on the sidewalk ready for the passing morning trade, hoping to entice a passing commuter with discount power tools. Times were hard and store owners had to take every opportunity to make a sale. Chris nodded a greeting as he passed the guy and he wondered whether he’d still be here next year.

Chris liked to run in D.C. He needed to do more of this. He was amazed how it took a near-death experience in order to appreciate what was good in life. Chris saw the Harvard Street entrance to the park up ahead and he increased his pace. The park could get busy at this time of year, just another reason to exercise before the other guys got out of bed.

He ran onto the track and it felt good to get off the concrete. He felt as though he had escaped the bustle of the city and slowed his pace a little to enjoy the best part of his run. He ran past the tennis club and turned deeper into the park. He slowed a little and looked around. This looked like the place. He kept going but he was walking now. There, just ahead a dark brown stain on the track was barely noticeable. He knelt down and put his hand to the ground with his palm flat against the blood-stained earth.

‘I’m sorry Jasmine,’ he said.

He looked up to the sky.

‘I’m sorry.’

Agent Salter was standing in the hospital room talking to a doctor that was probably twenty years his junior and almost certainly twenty pounds lighter. To his left was a man in bed with a tube in his mouth helping him breath and a tangle of tubes and cables connecting him to various machines and bags.

‘So is he going to wake up?’ asked Salter.

The young doctor was reading something on a clipboard and looked up to make eye contact before answering.

‘The CT scan showed some serious swelling in his brain,’ he said. ‘He’s unconscious because we’ve given him pentobarbital to reduce the metabolic rate of the brain tissue and reduce cerebral blood flow. His best chance of recovery is to let his body heal itself. We’re going to keep him on the barbs for at least two weeks and then we’ll scan again to see how he’s progressing. If he’s progressing well, we’ll stop the medication and wait to see if he wakes up.’

‘And how long will that take?’

‘There really is no way to know; it depends on a lot of things, sometimes it takes months or even a year or two. He may never wake up.’

Salter shrugged and walked over to Ben’s bedside. He put his hand on the top of the bed frame and looked at Ben’s face.

‘Be strong Naylor,’ he said. He turned back to the young doctor. ‘Has he had any visitors?’

‘I wasn’t on when he came in. You can check with the ward nurse. Is he a friend or is this a professional visit?’

BOOK: Coding Isis
6.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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