That day, Xini left work much earlier than usual. In passing, she gave him such a strange look that Parraligne felt he had the right to question her:
“Are you leaving early today?”
As he saw the deep contempt in her expression turn in his direction, the answer was the opposite of what he expected: almost cordial.
“Indeed. It turns out that I have a business meeting. Of course, you will accompany me there. It would not be appropriate for a genius of my kind to be exposed to all the dangers with only a handful of state-of-the-art robots as protection.”
Accompanied by the aforementioned robots, they left the building and wandered through the vast walkways that served as pedestrian streets between different levels of the city. Oddly enough, the little Xerinean was walking. Absorbed in some mysterious thoughts, she had not called an aerial platform to go to her ship. Perhaps the walk helped her to reorganize her ideas? A bit like the virtual space allowed the Vermilions to take time to think for themselves?
A dense crowd stopped their march. Unless they asked the robots to clear a path with batons, it was impossible to continue the route while keeping the safety distances necessary to protect a personality.
With a frown of displeasure, the little creature nimbly climbed onto one of the robots. From this elevated vantage point, she saw the source of the agitation. All these people were gathered in front of the doors of an Infinite Market, those famous shops that teleported all the products ordered instantly. A kind of lottery was organized in front: with the dematerialization of businesses, people greatly appreciated the one-off events happening in real space.
Parraligne did not need to gain height: its systems had already analyzed everything that was happening. The first prizes of the lottery, those that made the crowds move, were vouchers for a free implantation of the SECURA-02 chip. This would mean that the lucky winners could enjoy the product without paying a subscription: a godsend for the rest of their lives.
Coming down from her perch, Xini cursed her displeasure:
“These idiots! They put their trust in all these electronic gadgets, to the point of implanting them in their skulls. I like technology, but this is bordering on madness.”
“However,” the Vermilion pointed out to her, “it's your company that produces this.”
“My company? No, I work on a contract basis for one of their subsidiaries. I don't really have anything to do with the development of this stupid chip. At most, I worked on its messaging system. At Desstek Incorporation, I work on more useful systems. For example, the new data encryptors for the army. Come on, let's hurry up and get off this planet of morons!”
Using a mind reader located in her headband, she called up a travel platform. As they climbed aboard, Parraligne’s enhanced hearing picked up more snatches of resentment from the little creature:
“That’s it, you wretches: dig your own grave and dance in it!”
The ship that awaited them was a small stealth shuttle of the best model: an exclusive of the Xerineans. One rarely saw one up close. The Vermilion could not help but admire its impermeability to waves and the way it diffracted light to make itself invisible. At this level of perfection, he could only guess that this device was more efficient than the models that his people used: because he detected absolutely nothing.
The shuttle leapt from system to system. Apparently, it was not equipped with a “Walker” engine, which completely abolished the notion of distance. It was true that one could determine the trajectories taken by observing the invisible energy trails left by this type of engine, which would then have diminished the interest in using a stealth ship.
Finally, the ship approached a small automated mining station clinging to an asteroid orbiting a pulsar. It was not considered an ideal place for legal meetings, but protected by interference from the star and a more sophisticated shield than usual, this station was completely cut off from the surveillance that could be exercised via the Network.
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They stayed there for a few days before the shuttle of the mysterious “business partner” arrived. The place was set up to be viable, but that was of little importance to the cyborg. Cut off from the Network and from communication with his fellow, he really felt... alone.
The company of robots did not count: they were stupid machines without even a consciousness simulator, automated killers without the slightest margin of thinking. As for the Xerinean... Let's just say that he did not consider her as an interlocutor and it seemed reciprocal.
However, as his contact's shuttle approached, he saw visible signs of apprehension in her. She nervously fiddled with the objects that passed within reach of her hands, paced back and forth... But when the person left the airlock to enter the station's lounge, she suddenly seemed so perfectly calm that one could have mistaken her for a machine.
All of Parraligne’s enhanced senses turned to the newcomer as soon as he entered. It seemed to be a Human… which all the indicators immediately confirmed. Cut off from the Network, he had no way of knowing his identity, but he would not fail to verify it after the meeting: it was all so suspicious… But at the same time, Xini had an alpha clearance level and his request for a bodyguard had been accepted: it could not be an activity unknown to the authorities.
“Mr. Pad Normal,” the Xerinean greeted kindly, “you have kept us waiting.”
“Miss Xini,” he replied with the same politeness, “the best things come to those who wait.”
“Yes. As I told you, I check what you know, but I also have what you know and I hope you have what I want to know.”
The stranger responded with a mysterious smile to the cryptic riddle. Xini dug into a metal pouch on her belt and pulled out a small strip of crystals, probably a database, treated to resist all analysis. In any case, it resisted the Vermilion’s discreet hacking efforts.
The Human took the crystal and observed it with a hidden greed that mysteriously shone through. Parraligne felt deeply uncomfortable… He did not like this man. He could not say why, but a boundless hatred was born deep in his guts. If he had the slightest hint of proof that this man could be a danger to the Administration, he would be more than satisfied to eliminate him on the spot…
The Vermeil felt as if his arm was rising by itself… but he wanted to raise this arm…
His hand literally exploded as a powerful death ray came out of it in a fatal cone. The upper part of the man instantly disappeared and the disintegrating radiation dissipated before reaching the walls of the station.
Xini jumped back with a terribly high-pitched scream and turned a worried look towards the killer.
Parraligne wore a satisfied smile as he watched the nanobots reconstitute his still smoking hand. The burning hatred he had felt seemed to calm down a little, in a sinister satisfaction… Why had he acted like this? Now, he was good for a total revision… If anyone ever got out of here alive to tell… No. He would take responsibility for his actions. He was not going to murder as well…
His ramblings had lasted only a second, but he suddenly came to his senses, instinctively preparing himself for combat even before his robotic senses determined the cause…
The legs and what remained of the victim’s pelvis: why weren’t they falling? In fact, he already guessed it.
From the rest of the supposed Pad Normal, an unsuspected amount of matter emerged, forming a new body. Blood vessels were welding together, scaly skin was reappearing, and even though the creature was still far from having reconstituted a body, it was audibly snickering:
“Ah, ah, ah, is that so?... It seems like you remember me after all!”
“Hogloo Spy!” Parraligne spat. “What are you trying to do?”
The creature burst out laughing and then seemed to get offended.
“Don't think that I'm one of those despicable wretches incapable of understanding our real place in the universe! I'm an agent of Root! Too bad for you Vermilion: if your memory had remained in its place, in nothingness, you would have survived!”
The Vermilion's eyes projected destructive rays, tracing a deadly wake between the enemy and the one he was supposed to protect. He had tried to hit the Hogloo at the same time, but knew it was a futile attack. He had already slipped away, slithering across the floor like some kind of lightning-fast snake, and had escaped from the room. By the time he was caught, he would have sufficiently reconstituted his body and prepared an ambush… Plus, he was blocking the way to the ships.
“We need to fall back,” he said to Xini, “are there any weapons on board?”
The pragmatic creature had already recovered from its emotions and nodded, leading him with a gesture to follow her in the opposite direction to that of the monster.
As he followed, the Vermilion cast a sorry look at the inert security robots. Knowing that the Vermilions could control the majority of the robots produced in the Administration, the Hogloo had fried their circuits with the help of some device, depriving him of this support force. The fact that it had surpassed the safety features of such modern machines was rather worrying, but the protections of a Vermilion were, fortunately, far superior.