I was not sure when I realised that they were coming for me.

Project Noah’s Ark countdown had been officially 55 days from hitting 0 hours, and it was abundantly clear that you would be cut loose if you were not involved. Rumour and gossip were the currency of the day. Moral was at an all-time low, which was saying something here. Despite the fantastic PR Flex Tech had, it was not a pleasant workplace, toxic gossip, backstabbing and Machiavellian schemes were part of the corporate culture. That all came from the top.

I had ensured I was seen to be on board and buying into the project big time. I even hired some grey-hat hackers to monitor my digital footprint to ensure I was putting out the right message and that nothing was incriminating in both my personal and professional online profiles. I was that paranoid.

The hacker, Venus, had a team whom I had never met and came highly recommended by Allen, one of my friends in IT.

To say they were not happy with me calling Luke was an understatement. I had OKed the message, using the Wire app to encrypt and send the video. The only slips I could have made were when I spent too long recording in Lindy’s office. She was a sales manager who was on holiday. Or when I filmed in the toilets. I must have been caught on video or something that linked me to those areas. I knew the building had high-tech surveillance, but I was cleared for most of it as far as I knew, and I thought I knew most of the visible security precautions.

But in these crazy times, I was not so sure of anything.

Since Kristy had disappeared, and I was one of the 100 who knew the truth, everything had gone to shit. I hated Noah even before I came to work here; he had done nothing to change that idea. For someone who thought they were smart, I had been pretty dumb. Maybe I was dumb to accept a job at a place where I knew I hated the big boss. But the tech that Flex Tech was researching was just too attractive, and the salary was better than what I’d get out of The Valley. It helped that Flex Tech was the darling of the nanotech and biotech world. Little did I know that it was all a front when I joined.

The day I found out what was truly going on was when I knew I did not fit in and had to start an act; otherwise, I would disappear like Kristy. The rumours that they had hired a hit team that was not far from the truth, although there had always been tight security, quite a few beefy men and women in uniform around the place. The new ones were probably just some ex-Haliburton BSR Corp black ops from the Middle East. That’s what Wendy, a gossipy PA on the R&D team, told me. They were not a hit squad, just the type of people to clean up a mess like good old Ashley Juliette and now me. What had I gotten myself into?

I had even dragged some of my closest friends into it. And Luke. He was a friendly but ultimately useless brother. He would cruise along and help anyone despite the trouble it would cause. At least he had all Dad’s money to help. I loved him, but god, was he useless at most things. Anything was better than nothing when you were in trouble and needed help. Family counted.

I don’t know what I thought when I took the pelican case, but in hindsight, grabbing the stone had been suicide. I figured I was okay with the cameras off while Noah was screwing the bimbo. They didn’t even notice me. I was in and out. I even had an alibi.

I was lucky that my job, wrangling the scientists and ensuring that the reports for investors lined up, let me wander all over the building talking to people. I had to dumb them down but keep the tech secret and legal. On top of that, I had dozens of secret online meetings with our anonymous buyers to keep everyone in the loop. Faking another one of those had been easy, but all the cloak and dagger drove me insane.

I was privy to many things that the other executive team were not. They tended to focus more on business and marketing, focusing on the money rather than the tech; not one of them was even considering the moral or ethical implications of this insane cluster fuck. Fuck them. Even being part of the inner circle now by chance, I was unsure if I wanted this. These were not people I wanted to be near for prolonged periods of time.

It was easier since none of them would be getting their hands dirty with the workers producing the tech and doing the actual work. Ironically, that was what I loved, even if it was hard to balance the two sides. I had to learn everything about what was being said to dumb it down for the investors without making it legally plausible, which put me in a strange position of knowing more than most about the whole picture. Speaking with quirky, strange scientists was fun. Navigating the corporate board rooms was not. They say that culture comes from the top, and when your CEO is a psychotic, spoilt, misogynistic asshat, that culture flows down like shit in a sewer. Both cream and turds floated, and it sure was stinky here, and no one was cleaning up.

I still remember the chilling phone call I recorded. It was totally against company policy, but I did it to protect myself from other team leads who were a bit grabby. It is all part of the culture, and most of the girls did it unless they were like bimbo and wanted a promotion. Most women I knew did it, and the men were reluctant to call us out because it would be bad publicity for the Australian poster boy for technology if it got out that grabbing a girl was ok. Thanks #metoo. It was an oversight that Noah should have been aware of.

Shit. Maybe he was and didn't care.

In my career, I did have a choice, and that one was to put up with it or fight it. Fighting against it was just not on my radar. I would be crushed and tied up in court till I gave up or died. So, I kept the job, but I protected myself as best I could to ensure that nothing happened. Swallowing pride and stepping over some grey lines, I joined the club. Others were not so lucky, and they didn’t last long. Now, it was worse. Rumours of the death squad were just that, maybe. Talking to HR was a running joke. It was a bad movie, the cheap balance between life and death were a reality that most people in corporate jobs would never dream of. Shit had gone from a relatively normal job to paranoia in a couple of short weeks.

That phone call I recorded was the first time I had heard Noah scared and respectful. The thought of something that could instil fear in him was terrifying. So when Noah Elias-Willingham III called me after the meeting where Juliette and Ashley slipped up and dropped the project name and the deadline, I was shit scared and worried. I remember being so scared that I had to pee on the way to the meeting. I had initially thought it was just about the press release and publication and that meeting would be pee-inducing, something I had not faced since my first job interview. My hands were cold and clammy, and I was almost shaking. Deep breathing helped. Calm. Calm. Clam. It would work as long as I kept telling myself that.

I remember it clearly, "Ams," I hated his pet name for me, "I am letting Juliette and Ash go, so I have a spot on Project Noah’s Ark. If you say no, I’ll have to let you go too."

I didn’t hesitate, "I’m in. What do you need me to do?"

It was one of those decisions because, just like that, my life changed. I went from having some self-respect to joining with a hated betrayer of humanity.

It was a known fact that to make it as a female in the corporate world, you needed some leverage. With the people I now had to deal with, I had none, and it would have been a lot easier and safer for me if they had been serial killers. Words to describe them were scum, bastards and scary, and that was just the good ones.

The strategic level meetings were of the next level of fuck the world. I went from dealing with scientists, who for the most part were friendly, if strange, to coping with utterly nasty people who were just anonymous enough to be able to tell who they were without being 100% sure. Noah had an inside scoop and was selling it to the highest bidder. Cartel bosses were bidding for a place, and the major valley companies all had a buy-in. Some were world leaders who were on TV promoting peace and trying to stop the conflicts in Africa and the Middle East. There was a lot of movement as everyone who was anyone was getting in on the 700 places of guaranteed safety. How the rat bastard sold them without tipping off the media was beyond me. The super-rich had their own little network that plebs like me were not privy to.

It was sickening. I quickly met more big famous names, some supposedly clean and friendly, others you should only read about in Bond novels or news reports about war crimes. I was never more scared. One slip up and some of these people would make me vanish. One offered to buy me outright. Just a Google of her name made me have nightmares.

The last straw for me was the bimbo screwing and laughing about how his wife was not being part of the project. Miss, I have bigger boobs than most people’s IQ went from professional, I need my job, to utter bitch. Luckily for me, her IQ was smaller than her bust size and had a detrimental effect on Noah's IQ. To be fair, her boobs were quite distracting.

They never noticed when I managed to swap out the case. I stashed it in my office and then had it hidden in my inner-city apartment for a few days before I acted. I had been taking these cases out of the office to our secure transport hubs, so it was not unusual for me to take some equipment out. My NDA and the legal documentation were more extensive than the Australian Constitution, and I was cleared for a lot of weird shit to make Noah’s job easier. Allen had even vetted my house as an offsite workspace, and it had decent security and monitoring. Stuff Venus was helping me deal with so that I had some privacy.

Getting the case out was not challenging, especially with Venus' advice. I was suddenly being covert, making quick Uber changes, doubling back, and ensuring my phone, watch, and other electronics were off.

The next step was hard. I had no real plan, but I knew that Luke would have my back and would hold the case until I could get to him. In the back of my mind, I was gearing myself up not to be part of Noah’s dream. I knew Luke would help me, not just out of guilt but because sometimes, even when your older bitchy sister needs help, family counts.

I had an express courier deliver it to his private post office box in Cairns. The one he thought was secret, the one he hid from everyone and got all his dodgy Waifu toys and other questionable items sent to. There was no way I could not keep the case. It was too hot, and when they discovered it missing, I'd put money on people's homes being searched. It was Apple iPhone-level secrecy. I also knew Luke had the resources to do something. Thanks, Dad.

Venus agreed that I could not keep it safe, especially when security was ramped up here after it was discovered missing. I bought some time by swapping it out for a similar one from Flex Tex stores. I was counting from a week to ten days. I put a brick and some beer cans from Noah's bar in it to make it weigh the same.

The countdown was ticking closer, and we had so much to organise. Maybe booking some family time off was another mistake. This James Bond crap was just not how I thought. I was just not good at being sneaky. I could be manipulative and bitchy to get my way, but I was no Sun Tzu or Niccolò Machiavelli.

I was rattled, waiting for my next meeting. There was so much going on and so much that could have gone wrong. I sat pretending to work, clicking through some spreadsheets while I thought, trying to work out how to get myself out of this situation.

Shit, I kept daydreaming about how I ghosted Luke. I did not like living at home, so when Dad went to jail, I left. Luke and I had parted on good terms despite me being a bitch and fighting with everyone else. Shortly afterwards, Dad died, and I was unhappy with how that entire situation was handled. I suspected it was foul play, but his partners ensured everything was ‘normal’ and legitimate. The coroner didn’t find anything suspicious. His will was clear: Luke and I would get everything. I was so angry at him, at his partners, at the police and the media that I told the lawyers to get fucked and give it all to Luke.

There was a sense of betrayal. Dad had been a brilliant lawyer and civic-minded businessman. He had been made a patsy in a fraud scheme for his partners. To this day, I am not sure if he was clued enough to have done it himself. Sometimes, he was so naïve and trusting, but I had seen his dark, edgy self often enough to be unsure. After pleading guilty, he did time and never came out. He would not fight them and would not cut a deal, so he sat in prison and rotted.

Lawrence was the only one who didn’t stink like shit, and only just. Luke loved and idolised Lawrence, but to me, he was just another prick who sank my dad. I think the only reason he looked after Luke was guilt. Whatever the reason, as soon as I could, I was out of Cairns, and I changed my name and didn’t speak to any of them for two years.

It was tough. Luke was a teen and had been all but abandoned by his entire family. Luke left messages, and I could face them only after I got my first big gig. I didn’t want the handouts and the spoils of fraud, even if they were above board, so I just signed it all to Luke and left. Now, I was dumping my crap on him and hoping he could help. It wasn’t all up to Luke. Thank god, that would be disastrous. I had organised some help.

My two best friends from school, Jed and Jean, were on holiday, so I got them to head to Port Douglas to be near Luke so they could also help. I figured he could cover the costs, or at least Dad could. As much as I trusted Luke, he was scattered and could not organise a piss-up in a brewery with a fist full of money. He would need help.

Jed and Jean were happy to have a paid holiday while on leave from the ADF. They had joined the Army together and then done a lot of stuff they could not tell me about, but they had helped me when I ran away and were helping now. I spent six months living in their house as they did a tour of duty overseas.

So, I recorded the video and sent it after the case had gone. I also swapped phones after each call. E-sims were decent, and I could still call via VPN networks regardless of my SIM card. This was some advice from my hackers. It was not foolproof, but one extra layer.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

My hackers were from an Australian cyber security consulting firm and were highly recommended when I did some research. I only ever spoke to Venus, and she had a weird accent I could not place as European or Asian. As it was, I paid them enough to watch over me electronically and to run interference if someone went snooping. They had taught me how to swap phones, which VPNs were reliable and how to navigate Flex Tech’s internal security to see what was being said about me. Something that I was so far out of my depth with. I thought I was clued in on what was happening, but they opened my eyes. My paranoia ramped up to 11.

Venus appeared to be an angry young lady with a no-nonsense attitude and a feisty disregard for authority. I never met the other partner, but from what Venus said, he was a typical hacker nerd. They made a great team, though.

I knew I was in deep shit, I knew it, and I am pretty sure Noah knew it, and the sad thing is that I am certain he was playing with me the whole time. We had just under 53 days to go when they discovered the stone was missing. So much for my week to ten days. To say the place was put into lockdown was an understatement. There was so much grumbling, especially since we all remembered the COVID lockdown nightmares. All leave was cancelled, no clued-in staff were allowed off the premises without a full search, and there was a total media blackout. You would think that something like that would be impossible in this day and age. But if you threw enough money at it, most things were possible.

The Brisbane office for Flex Tech was just off Queen Street and right in the heart of the CBD. It was a multistory building and had its own neon signs. We had over 300 people on the books as staff, with many more off the books. It became a ghost town almost overnight.

My stupidity and heist had made everyone's job so much more difficult. Especially mine. On top of dealing with the shit stains of the world and my original job, I was also told to ensure that the science team were kept happy. It was mainly so they wouldn’t do anything stupid, and we needed some of them. It was funny. I don’t think Noah liked needing people.

The most significant change was that everyone on Project Noah's Ark always had security guards with them. One would even clear the bathrooms for you on your breaks. They would not quite go in the stalls. It was for all senior executives, and all people in the 100 were told they had to become permanent residents in our central office block for the foreseeable future of 53 days. Noah sold it as usual, being rude and throwing money at it. The pay bump and bonus were excellent and the only thing that kept most people from complaining. The morons didn’t even realise that it would be useless soon.

Noah was willing to accommodate reasonable requests and allowed some communication with the outside world. It was highly vetted and scrutinised. Food, yes. Dry Cleaning, yes. Games, yes. Movies, yes. Booze, definitely. He had cultivated the junior exec members to treat this like an extended corporate retreat, with booze and bonding games as long as work was getting done. There were rumours they smuggled in some girls when HR was not watching, and then they all slept it off, rinse and repeat, and they were mostly happy. It was an extended dirty weekend away at work on the boss's dime and was a holiday for most millennials. Flex Tech rented the entire basement and turned it into an almost permanent party as people went on and off shift. The floors above were quickly converted into short-term accommodation. There had obviously been a lot of pre-planning, which made things even scarier.

The internal network was crippled, Wi-Fi was monitored, and non-company phones were jammed. During this time, I knew I was in deep crap. Venus told me that Internal security had a trace of something back to one of my burner phones used in my office. The logs from that included a short message to Port Douglas. That was close enough for them to dig up my past in North Queensland, and then, digging deeper, they traced my phone call to Luke. She said they had no idea what was said, but Australia had some pretty lovely laws to allow the government to spy on the population. All phone meta-data had to be kept so they knew who, when and for how long. When a tech billionaire wants something, he can get it. I am unsure which police agency or government official requested the data for him and passed it on, but I was called again before Noah. My security was there, and this time, not just for my safety. I went quietly, with a vision of Kristy, maybe Juliet and Ashley too. No one had heard from them since they had been let go.

I sent out some messages that I could, once again thanks to Venus, and prepared for the worst.

I walked into his office, The same one where he had been doing his bimbo. The desk was anally retentive tidy. I almost laughed at the thought.

Noah was sitting relaxed in his power chair, alone. He had read all the books on how to be a right bastard and put people in their place. His suit was probably worth more than my car. It was cliché, but it was an expensive suit. It made him look like a gangster boss, which is what he wanted. His bimbo entered, sneered at me, poured him a drink and left, closing the door. I was alone with two security and Noah.

He didn’t even wait for me to stop walking, "Amy, where is the case? Tell us where the stone is, and things won’t be as bad for you."

I remained silent. Even though I was intimidated, I was used to standing up for myself in front of bullies, at least in my head.

Fuck I was in trouble.

"We know you sent it north. We know you sent a video. Tell us who, and tell us what you have told them and what they know."

I kept silent. Even though there was the entire supposed alien factor in this, I was not buying that Noah or his goons would take me out right here. There were still some repercussions for murder, I hoped.

He smiled. "I thought you were smarter than this. Won’t you tell me? OK. I’ll do it the fun way then. We are looking for your brother."

I felt a prick on my neck, and I blinked.

When I woke up, I was lying in my bedroom in my apartment. I was wearing my not-hot date PJs, just my day-to-day ones. A loose T-shirt and boxers. The back of my wrist had a red welt, which was getting raw from where I had scratched it. I was foggy and a bit hung over.

It must have been a wild night. I vaguely remembered asking Allen if he wanted to grab drinks.

I had a shower and got dressed. I really must have had a few too many drinks. I needed some breakfast and water.

Fuck, I had some wild dreams. I had thought Noah was going to kill me.

Shit. It started to come back to me.

My phone rang. It was Venus. There were dozens of messages.

"Amy. Sorry for getting you busted. This one is on the team. You are in deep. You have been out for quite some time, and we only just got eyes on you again. We lost you and thought you were dead. The bio-monitor just went haywire, and with the GPS tracker offline, we had no idea where you were.”

I remember agreeing to their premium monitoring package, which included bio and location monitoring.

“Home.” I managed to say, my head clearing slightly as I processed what she was saying.

“Shit. That was the worst case. OK. You are home, and Flex T agents are watching your building. OK. One sec. I just triggered a call to the cops. They should be visiting your neighbour. He has some dope growing, so it should keep them there for a bit, and we will get an ambulance in when they leave and get you on it. We need you to have public visibility so they don’t send you off to the farm like the other girl."

"Kristy was her name," I said absently and sadly, still struggling to figure out what was happening. "What the hell, Venus? I have no idea what is going on. Oh, Shit. How long do I have? How long was I out?"

"You were offline for five days. I’d say you have a couple of hours. They are watching you. But now your bio-monitor is online, they know, too. Your whole place was wired to the hilt, but lucky for you, we are better. Listen, you won't make it out if you run, and they will take you back to corpo HQ. Not sure why they carried you home, you are the first person out of there in a few days. It has been on the news, but there are no media allowed. Noah is spending big to keep folks away. He is playing it as a major product release happening, all hands-on deck, bigger than the iPhone sort of crap."

"Thanks. I’ll work something out. I have a couple of buddies that might be able to help."

"We’ll keep you informed." was all Venus said as she hung up.

I texted Jed to let him know I was in deep shit. We had safe words to use in these situations. I sent the ones I needed for help, and don’t ask questions.

I absently scratched my arm. It felt weird, so I rubbed it more.

There was a robotic voice.

Stop scratching. You should have been out for another twelve to thirty-six hours. It is hard to predict with new species.

I looked around. No one was there. I got up, did the check under the bed, went out in my lounge and even in my wardrobe. Maybe I had been drugged. At least I was out for whatever happened to my arm. The welt on my wrist had stitches. It was a fresh scar that ran from the back of my hand to my elbow for 10 cm, 15 stitches. They looked neat and tidy. The wound was itchy and lumpy.

I vomited as I noticed the skin move as if something was moving under it, bulging the skin up and wriggling under the stitches.

Stop this. The more your biological systems are agitated, the more conflict we will have.

"Who is there? Who are you?"

I am your Prism-Symbiont. Once I have integrated with you, normally, it should take 12 hours. I will be your companion in the Prism.

"What," I bashed at my arm, where it was wriggling.

My vision blurred, and my legs buckled at the pain.

Stop. You will corrupt the process, and it will do irreparable damage to myself and the host.

"Host?" I felt sick. I held on to my lunch and sanity as best I could, looking at a worm-like shape moving slowly under my skin.

Yes, you are my host. I will be your guide, you will be my puppet, and together we will be great. That is the aim of every Prism-Symbiont. You will not survive without me. Submit or die.

"Fuck you. Sounds like you need me, too."

I bashed the wriggling thing that was moving up my arm. Again, the pain behind my eyes was intense.

Stop. My integrity is dropping; when it drops too low, the failsafe will activate, and I will self-destruct. I will cease, which will destroy my host as well.

The voice complained, sounding slightly nervous.

"Are you that thing crawling in my arm at the moment?" I asked out loud and confused.

Most of my mass is indeed in your arms. My egg sack has been cultured in the mass of your arm, and I am moving near your cephalic vein. It was supposed to happen while you were in an induced coma. I became active once my tendrils reached into your cortex, and I also manifested the first subspace void space where I will reside when we are joined.

What the fuck was it talking about. "Fuck you."

That is not nice. Please refrain from insulting me, as it disturbs the Karmic bond we will share. Although Prism drives me, I also have some self-awareness. It is not self-sufficient yet, but given time, I will be. I can tell when you are being mean. I don't like it.

The wriggling thing under my skin was nearly at my elbow.

Fuck. I was scared.

I had no idea if it was going for my heart, brain, or whatever the hell a cephalic vein was. Just if it got too far, it would probably take me over. I needed it out. It sounded naive and young, so maybe I could work on something there.

Despite my fear, I managed to keep calm – calmish – "Once you are inside me, will the damage from me hitting you hurt you?"

No, that will damage your biological components, but over time, we will gain power so that the damage will become insignificant. I would point out that severe electrical discharges and cold that would kill you would also render me less and possibly kill me, too. I can sense your surface thoughts, so please refrain from planning for my destruction. It makes me scared.

Chop my arm off?

Nope, that was Plan Z.

A snap freeze, nope, not practical.

Electrical, not really wanting to kill me, but a possibility.

Maybe I could. I stopped thinking about what I was going to do. Surface thoughts. I put some music on, singing along.

"Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo. Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo." I sang.

That ought to muddle my surface thoughts. I was going to kill this fucker even if it took me out. No way was I being a puppet.

What do baby sharks have to do with this situation? I am confused.

The voice did sound very confused, childlike in its questioning.

I got a large knife from the kitchen, a bucket of ice, some metho and matches and some cloth.

"Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo. Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo."

I cut the end of an electrical cord to strip it back to the wires. It took about 5 minutes, and the thing in my arm got to my elbow. I kept my arm bent, which slowed it down a bit. It felt sickening. I squirmed as I watched it.

"Grandpa Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo. Grandpa Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo."

What are you doing?

"Nothing," I replied, singing to the duck song now, "A duck waddled up to a lemonade stand and said to the man …"

I plugged the extension cord in. 240 volts AC.

That will kill you if you proceed.

"Better than being your puppet. If you don’t want me to die, stop and tell me more about this joining and how our bond works. I am not a fan of it so far."

That is illogical, and it seems that pure biologicals can be illogical. I can pause for a small while. I do need to repair it. Could you please consume some copper, some lime and carbon-rich fuels?

“Like what?”

If you have some milk in your fridge, it will suffice for my immediate needs.

I grabbed a glass of milk. That would have to do.

"How could I consume copper?" I asked. I knew most of my food groups, but that was just weird. I was not entirely sure why I was helping him. IT. Not him.

Thank you, it is enough, but not quite sufficient. It is a start. Squid, Cow, Peas or Yeast would be suitable for copper. I have an imperative that I bond with my biological host. I am a mix of a biological organism grown to be dense bundles of neurons. Each of my cells is quantumly paired with a nanobot, forming the physical entity you can feel.

"What is your purpose?" I asked as I continued my preparations.

To serve the Prism.

The voice said with a slight hesitation.

"What is the Prism?"

It is the source of power in the Karass Collective. It drives all life to improve.

"We are not in the Karass Collective, though."

You will be soon. Your planet will undergo integration in 21 days when the Prism will pulse the planet's core with its energy and bring it into the collective. You will serve.

Fuck, 21 days.

“How long had I been out? Why am I being joined or whatever?"

Your master bought me out of stasis early for testing. I have been tasked with several suboptimal processes that he believes should improve compliance and success. I'm afraid I had to disagree with them. As I had yet to emerge, I could not voice my opinions. No one listened to me because my other vat brood siblings have been less than satisfactory. You have been put in a more natural environment to see if a calmer environment would be better for us to bond, a relaxed environment with less stress. A more stable mindset is helpful as humans on this planet are surprisingly resilient. This planet is anomalous. Already, I cannot feel the connection to the Prism. The karma imbalance of this planet is disconcerting.

“So, how do we serve?” Not that I would let it get that far.

Let me join you, and together we can gain power.

“Sounds grand. How do we do that."

More power sounded good. Playing for time sounded better.

All of your biological material will be consumed and replicated with nanobots. The nano-symbiont, that’s me, will bind your neural pathways, which will be cored and replaced with hyper-efficient channels, and then we will be one.

Fuck that big time. I was getting this fucker out one way or another.

"What is your name? If we will be one, I need to call you something."

I only have a designation given to my VAT, Edt-hlpZWUOdDTl3vwg_gQ. It is a unique identifier that no other symbiotic has. You must submit or die.

The creature in my arm redoubled its efforts to move upwards.

Fuck. I felt sick.