Upgrade (86 page)

“You’re probably wondering how your day turned out this way,” said Mason.
 
He felt a lot more comfortable after they’d resupplied, looting a weapon’s locker on the way up.
 
Every little bit helps
.

Gairovald sat behind his desk, the black of it so deep it was almost an absence of color.
 
The man steepled his fingers.
 
“The question has crossed my mind.”

“Right,” said Mason.
 
“So here it is.
 
You killed one of my friends, and—”

“It was a machine,” Gairovald said.
 
“A computer.”

“—and,” said Mason, “you’re going to burn for it.”

Sadie stood behind him, rifle pointed at Gairovald.
 
“What was a machine?”

Gairovald raised an eyebrow.
 
“You haven’t told her?”

“It’s not important,” said Mason, “what your friends are made of.”

“Do you want to know how it started?”
 
Gairovald got up from his desk, looking out the window.
 
His hands were clasped behind his back, looking for all the world like a man in control.

“Not really,” said Mason.

“Hear me out,” said Gairovald.
 
“Be a professional.”

“You’re playing that card?”
 
Mason thought about it.
 
“Sure, ok.”

“Entertainment,” said Gairovald.
 
“We have the energy market.
 
We make good enough weapons.
 
A few strong patents in medical keep things interesting.
 
But our entertainment division isn’t really holding itself up.
 
Can’t bear its own weight.”

“The fat man,” said Mason, remembering.
 
“Synthetic Entertainment division.
 
You’ve got to admit, there’s a sort of irony there.”

“Yes,” said Gairovald.
 
“His wife likes it.”

“So,” said Mason.
 
“What’s your point?”

“The point,” said Gairovald, “is that people want to be excited.
 
They want to be entertained.
 
Whether it’s bread and butter intercourse or the more diverse pleasures of Mr Aster—”

“Aster doesn’t have pleasures anymore,” said Mason, his voice flat.

Gairovald looked over his shoulder at Mason, looking at the black armor as if for the first time.
 
Mason could see the man mark the blood spots down the front.
 
“Indeed.”
 
He turned back to the window.
 
“It hardly matters.
 
The trick is to give people what they want.”

“And this relates to Carter how?”

“She was the start,” said Gairovald.
 
“We wanted to make an AI that—”

“Wait,” said Sadie.
 
“Carter’s an AI?”

Mason nodded.
 
“Was.
 
She was.”

“A computer.”

“A computer,” said Mason.

“Sure, okay,” said Sadie.

“Quite,” said Gairovald.
 
“It’s because—”

“So you’re saying,” said Sadie, talking over the top of the other man, “that you made an actual person?”

“It wasn’t a person,” said Gairovald.
 
“It was a construct.
 
It was a thing, to be all things to all people.
 
We made it to know humans, to entertain humans.”

“Seems,” said Sadie, “that you made her to be human.”

“It.”

“Her,” she said.
 
“I spoke to Carter.
 
I
spoke
to her.
 
I knew
her
.”

“You were speaking to a machine,” said Gairovald.
 
“Nothing more than a collection of if-then statements, a construct that matched patterns.”

Sadie was standing next to Mason.
 
“I knew a good person.”

Gairovald laughed.
 
“Mr. Floyd, where did you find this delightful woman?
 
So naïve.”

Sadie pulled the trigger of her gun.
 
The rifle clicked, then the magazine fell out.
 
She looked down.
 
“Shit.”

Mason reached a hand out, putting it on the barrel of her rifle, pushing to to point to the floor.
 
“I’ve been wondering,” he said.

“Yes, Mason?”
 
Gairovald tugged at the cuffs of his jacket, ignored that Sadie had tried to shoot him.
 
Wouldn’t be polite — professional — to comment
.

“All these gates.”

“What of them?”

“Apsel’s not big into energy, is it?
 
It’s actually big into gates.”
 
Mason gestured with the Tenko-Senshin to the window, the world outside.
 
“We don’t make safe fusion.
 
We make gates to pipe energy around.”

Gairovald’s face crinkled into a genuine smile.
 
“You worked it out.
 
I’m very impressed.
 
You know, there’s still a place for you.
 
Here, if you want it.”

“I think we’re past lies, aren’t we?”
 
Mason hefted the Tenko-Senshin.
 
He pointed it at Gairovald.

“I suppose we are,” said the other man.
 
“Wait.”

Mason tilted the weapon to the side.
 
“Let me guess.
 
A last request?”

“Don’t you want to know,” said Gairovald, “where the gates
go
?”

Mason frowned at him.
 
“Is it important?”

“It could be the most important thing.”
 
Gairovald smiled, all teeth.
 
“If you know the secret, you might not want to kill me so quickly.
 
Because if the gates fall out of control, if the balance is lost—”

“Fuck sake,” said Mason.
 
“Ok.
 
Where do the gates go?”

“It’s not a total lie,” said Gairovald.
 
“They are fusion.
 
Or powered by fusion.”
 
He turned and pointed outside, the dawn touching the sky.
 
“They’re the tiniest, smallest gap into the heart of our closest star.”

Sadie spoke first.
 
“You’re completely mad.”

“I’m sorry?”
 
Gairovald looked at her.
 
“That’s not the reaction I expected.”

“What happens if one of those gates opens?
 
Opens too much?”
 
Her voice had trailed off at the end.

“Then we all burn,” said Gairovald.
 
He pointed a finger at Mason’s chest.
 
“All the energy you could ever need, locked in the heart of a star.
 
You wouldn’t want the man with the knowledge of how all that works to die, would you?”

“Carter knew,” said Mason.

“Maybe,” said Gairovald.
 
“It worked a lot of things out.
 
Doesn’t matter anymore, does it?
 
It’s gone.”

“Mr. Apsel?”

“Yes, Mason.”

“I have to wonder.
 
I’m in here, gun in my hand.”

“I’ve noticed it.”
 
Gairovald turned to face Mason, back to the window.

“What
I’ve
noticed is that you don’t seem worried by it.”
 
Mason looked at the other man over the Tenko-Senshin.
 
“I’m pretty sure we can work the gate thing out without you.
 
If there was a lot of risk you’d have squared that away by now.
 
Marginalized it to protect the investment.
 
That’s how you’d say it, right?
 
So why aren’t you worried about
me
?”

He would have missed it, the subtle movement of Gairovald’s eyes, if the lattice hadn’t seen it.
 
The other man had flicked eyes to the wood paneled wall at the back of the room.

“Ah,” said Mason.
 
“You think you’ve got a way out.”

Just like that, Gairovald was moving.
 
No transition between standing still, building up speed, but into motion like it was natural.
 
He vaulted the black desk, hand grabbing the edge of it, then picking it up and tossing it at Mason before sprinting to the back of the room.

Milspec
.
 
Nothing but the best for the boss
.

Mason hardly noticed the table, his eyes drawn to the wood panelling opening up on silent hinges.
 
He nudged the lattice and it pushed Sadie to the side, away from the path of the desk.
 
He took two steps, swung the sword, then stopped.

The desk crashed against the wall, splintering.
 
Gairovald coughed, a wet sound, before his torso parted in a diagonal line from shoulder to waist.
 
Red and white fluids bubbled through the wound.
 
The man coughed again, then said, “But—”

Then Gairovald Apsel died.

⚔ ⚛ ⚔

“There’s a thing,” said Mason.
 
“I’ve seen one of these before.”

“What is it?”
 
Sadie frowned.
 
She reached a hand out to the panel on the front of the machine.

“Let’s not touch that just yet,” said Mason.
 
“It’s a gate.”

“A gate?”

“A gate,” he said.
 
He stepped back out into Gairovald’s office, looking across the city to the Reed tower.
 
Clouds boiled against the surface of it.
 
“I’m pretty sure we don’t need to get to the roof.”

“Do you know how it works?”
 
Sadie hadn’t left the machine.

“No clue,” said Mason.
 
“Let’s see.”
 
He stepped back up to it, trying to remember.
 
He’d seen Haraway turn the other one on, but it’d looked older, more primitive.
 
This gate was all smooth edges and polished glass.
 
He reached out a finger, then pressed the largest button he could see.

The machine fired up, the floor rumbling under them.
 
Light refracted around the edges of crystals set around the floor.
 
A female voice spoke.
 
“Destination.”

“What?”

“Destination.”

“I think,” said Sadie, “that it wants to know where to go.”

“Destination,” agreed the machine.

“Reed Tower,” said Mason.

“Warning,” said the female voice.
 
“Reed Tower is property of the Reed Interactive Investments corporation.
 
Entry into the Reed Tower is in violation of the Syndicate Compact of—”

“I get it,” said Mason.
 
“Reed Tower.
 
Top of it.”

“Acknowledged,” said the voice.
 
“Mapping.
 
Structural anomalies detected.
 
Proceed?”

“Lock and load,” said Mason.

“Say,” said Sadie.
 
The machine clicked behind her, a bubble of spun glass appearing in the air.
 
It tugged at her hair.

“Say yourself,” said Mason.

“You don’t have to dive in again.”

“Yeah,” he said.
 
“Yeah, I do.”

“Why?”
 
Sadie took a step towards him.
 
“Why can’t you just ride this one out?”

“I made a promise,” he said.

“To who?”

“To you,” he said, and stepped through the gate.

He looked into a fourteen year old’s eyes and knew fear.

Fear wasn’t that unusual.
 
Mike was used to that.
 
It’s why he collected such a high percentage, right?
 
But usually it was other syndicate enforcers, company men and woman living at the hard edges of the world.
 
Civilization was showing its cracks, and the kinds of people he fought were the things that grew in those dark places.

This…
 
Well, she was just a kid.
 
And she scared him.

There was something bright and angry in her eyes as she reached a hand out to him.

⚔ ⚛ ⚔

A minute earlier, things had seemed very different.
 
The gunship had screamed around the edge of the building, Sam yelling something biblical over the link, and the chain gun had carved a path through the room.

Haraway had been doing something to the gate up front, and it had powered on, the air bunched aside for a sparking globe of glass.
 
Energy walked on jagged legs across its surface.

Mike knew that wasn’t a good thing.
 
God knew what was on the other side of it, but any place someone like Prophet could step out of wasn’t likely to be a place of ice cream and happy puppies.

The rounds had stopped, halted in the air, and Zacharies had let out an ugly laugh.
 
The kid had waved his hand, and the gunship had crumpled in the middle, shedding metal and people to the ground below.

Mike had scrambled across the ground towards his sidearm.
 
The armor of his glove had smoked from the heat of it, but he held it anyway, pointing it at —

Well, shit.
 
Who was he going to point it at?

The gate at the front made a clanking sound, then light started bleeding around the edges of a sphere in the air.
 
It made his eyes hurt to look at.
 
He’d looked at the gate, then at the sidearm, then at the gate again.

He hadn’t pulled the trigger, and the weapon had started to glow red.
 
Mike’s hand had trembled, trying to make the lattice hold it, to do
something
with it, before his glove had started to burn, the fingers of flame licking up around the edges of his fingers.
 
He’d dropped it with a shout, the weapon smoking and blistering as the metal heated to white.
 
He’d looked up and seen a girl standing in front of him.
 
The kid’s kid sister.