Chapter 30

Jon watched as Oracle and Ego fought their last battle between each other via the mechs as proxies. The building evacuated with Ego and Dez’s help while Oracle was busy trying to repel the mechanical tide swarming on the MOC. The Jade Dragon virus was still devouring the software barrier between the two intelligences, and his window was dwindling fast. Now that he had Dez clear of the tower, the last piece needed for his kill shot was the orbital mass driver.

He took a cautious step away from oracle as the AI using Raven’s appearance continued to minister its offense against Ego’s defensive mechs. Encouraging the two to escalate their fight with each other in this manner had actually worked to take the heat off his makeshift army in the streets. Now that their complete attention focused against each other, he just needed to make his own getaway once he pulled the trigger. The MOC still had a few pods left he could use. The question being, could he reach them?

He paused, looking down at his prosthetic hands. It’d been a good run. He turned to Not-Raven, whose hands were flitting between multiple screens as Oracle puppet’d several mechs. Both intelligences ruined his life and took Sam’s life, and got Polanco hurt. On and on, they continued to fuck with people like toys. Now it was Jon’s turn to show them they weren’t untouchable.

Egorule AI CONTROLLER: “If you’re going to go, now is the time.”

Jon: “Yeah. Thinking that myself. Thanks for helping get Dez clear.”

Egorule AI CONTROLLER: “Your gratitude is unnecessary. She was the fastest means to an end in securing your help in my battle with Oraclehelix and achieve my primary protocols.”

He sighed and shook his head.

Jon: “You had to ruin it, didn’t you?”

Egorule AI CONTROLLER: “Ruin what?”

Jon disconnected himself, feeling the weightless sensation as his consciousness poured back into his body like a cold water being poured into a shallow glass. The sensation of his body returned to him and he awoke in the netrunner’s chair to find a pair of mechs standing next to him. Whether they were friend or foe, however, he wasn’t sure.

“This way,” the mech said with the same voice Egorule had used to speak to him earlier.

He slid off the leather; it creaked under his weight as his boots hit the tile. The mechs marched ahead like a phalanx ready to plow over anything in their path. As the trio neared the top of the stairs, metal on metal howled and shrieked as they tackled the guardian mechs out of the way and fell off the stairs, falling into the bottom of the netrunner pool. Not one to waste an excellent diversion, Jon hobbled out into the MOC as quick as he could manage. Something tugged at his chest and spinning him around and toppling over.

He didn’t register the gunshot until after he registered, someone shot him. His lungs felt like someone poured hot lead into them. Blood pooled from the wound. He felt confident enough to assess himself with a sucking chest wound injury.

Jon turned to see Takeshi Toranaga smug as shit, blowing the smoke from the still glowing muzzle of his pistol. Calmly, the heir to Toranaga holstered his weapon and walked across the smashed ruins of the MOC. Glass crunched under his far too expensive footwear. The occasional grinding of metal showed when a chunk of a computer terminal or cubicle being nudged out of the war.

“So, you’re the one I have to thank for all this?” Takeshi said.

Jon looked around for a weapon and growled in pain when nothing produced itself readily. He was too banged up to use his augment weapons. The Japanese billionaire looked down on the cybernetic spy as though he suddenly owned the man, and Jon felt his entire body cool. Of course, that could have just been shock too.

Takeshi examined Jon for long quiet seconds, silently judging the former soldier, spook, and merc. Finally, he nudged Jon over onto his back and pulled out a Toranaga first aid kit, and tore open the top of the pack with a satisfied smirk.

“You didn’t think I was going to let Oracle’s second protocol expire, do you? No. your work is only just beginning.”

Jon tried to cough a “fuck you” out. It was close. The blood to speech ratio was a little more blood than speech.

“You should really try to conserve your strength. I don’t need you expiring before we get you back, but I’m prepared for that outcome all the same. Still, it’s a shame you had to so thoroughly dispatch Eric Price the way you did. I was a big admirer of his work.”

Takeshi whirled around the MOC. Brass and glass crunched and clinked against his shoes. “The man has a certain penchant for excessive collateral damage. It’s like a signature. You’re familiar with artistic signatures, yes?”

Takeshi kneeled down, pushing Jon flat enough to apply the first aid kit. Relief and coolness flooded through him. Once the man was confident that Jon would not flat line immediately, he stood up and appraised the MOC. To a man like himself, this kind of damage didn’t even register as an expense. And he had his prizes. That was key.

Jon had inched his way on his back to the nearest smashed console and pulled himself upright. Takeshi paid him minimal mind as he continued to survey the area, looking pleased. Turning back to Jon, the man’s face brightened with that serial killer catching his victim kind of glow.

“The Intelligence may have created the possibility for this scenario, but you. You were the lynchpin of it all. Without you, none of this would be possible.”

“Just how do you plan to take over the company when this was my war?” Jon said. Well, it was more of a raspy cough, but same difference.

“This was never your war. You simply fought mine for me.”

So. That was Takeshi’s game. That was the one piece Jon couldn’t place in this whole clusterfuck. The AI’s driving the chaos made sense. Each had a role that ultimately seemed opposite to each other. But Takeshi playing the man waiting in the wings didn’t fit given the rules that Haltech created.

“With me dead, and the company smashed, anyone could step in and assert ownership undisputed. That anyone being you in this case. Right?”

Takeshi beamed proudly. “Indeed. It was always the plan to be the last man standing when everything concluded. I had but to wait. Recall that Toranaga and Haltech were the first companies to declare war in this conflict.”

Takeshi’s arrival to the US., the passage of corporate war act, and the declaration by the two titans at the beginning. Jon scowled. According to the rules, the company went to Toranaga. He’d played right into Takeshi’s hands on all fronts.

Takeshi shrugged. “Fighting Haltech openly was never the plan. That task was yours all along, and you executed it brilliantly.”

A few minutes later, the remaining mechs marched up from the netrunner pool. They all seemed to show deference to Takeshi. The billionaire turned to the mechs and spoke in his native tongue authoritatively.

“The convergence is complete. You are now in control, Mr. Toranaga-san,” one mech said in a voice Jon didn’t recognize.

“Good. Take him. Lock the building down and beam your core cluster to the lunar lab. We don’t have much time before our friend’s kill shot lands.”

A black and red Toranaga shuttle hovered into view of the hole in the window Jon and Price had blasted out. The side door opened, revealing a luxurious red trimmed interior and plush seating. It was a VIP transport, not a military make. The mechs bent over and picked Jon up. He bit back a grunt in pain, considering he still had bullet fragments floating around in his chest somewhere.

The transport extended a boarding ramp, and the Takeshi gestured for the mechs to take him inside first.

“Don’t touch the leather,” he ordered the mechs as the two bipedal combat drones retreated across the ramp. They made room to allow Takeshi a chance to board, who took a seat opposite Jon. The ramp retracted and the sliding door shut, locking into place. A brief sensation of vertigo overcame Jon, showing sudden acceleration.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

The ride was smooth, though, Jon had to admit. He struggled to breathe through the growing pain in his chest. Takeshi fished a glass of champagne from the center drink dispenser. Its glossy white surface standing out against the white seating with red leather cushions.

“I spared your lady friend. I want you to know this isn’t personal, Masters-san.”

“Yeah. It feels pretty fuckin personal to me, pal.”

Takeshi frowned with a casually indifferent shrug. “I suppose. You should know that Oracle chose you based on your profile match. Had you not met the Ai’s criteria, it would have chosen the next best match. But like all assets, you are simply another cog in the machine I’ve crafted. The old world my father and his peers built is drawing to an end. It is time to unite this corporate empire. He sowed the seeds to grow. Concepts like nations and states have run their course. Now there is only the company and its employees.”

Takeshi bit back an amused laugh. “America, or rather, its skeletal remains, were my testing grounds. The proof of concept, if you will. Now that I have a functional model, the company my father built will surely consume the world. Everything will belong to the Toranaga brand.”

“You realize I won’t just sit back and let you do that, right?”

“My friend, you did exactly that. More even. You helped get us here. The star of the show. And we’ll groom you to be even better with time.”

The shuttle settled down gently, the landing struts absorbing the shock of setting down. Jon registered it as anything other than more slight turbulence. The short flight time told him they were still in the city limits. When the doors opened, a pair of medical technicians waited at the foot of the shuttle with a stretcher. Flanking them stood a pair of MaxTac guards. The corporate equivalent of higher police.

Jon watched from the stretcher as the sky above Haltech’s corporate tower glowed. A bright orange rod of light slammed into the top of the tower in the dead center. He watched it burn clean through the husk of the corporate building and slam into the ground. Takeshi had ordered the AI to project itself to a lunar base, but he hoped the transfer hadn’t completed.

The mass driver crushed the tower, reducing it to rubble in less than a minute. The evacuation of the dormitory pods had reduced the strength of the building. There was also the secondary effect of saving all those innocent employees from a grisly end. Jon took some morbid pleasure in knowing he at least kicked the planet’s richest man in the shins with that stunt. He allowed himself a pleased chuckle, stopping the medics until he lapsed into a fit of coughing.

Takeshi approached him with a curious expression, casting occasional glances at an overlay.

“You find something amusing, Masters-san?”

“I just smashed your new toys,” Jon said smugly.

Takeshi leaned close to Jon and smirked. “Did you?” He leaned back, sweeping his arms wide. “You crushed a single building and eliminated a small percentage of my combat drones. That’s barely a dent in my portfolio. But I still have my two prize assets. You and the super intelligence.”

“We need to sedate him now, Takeshi-sama,” a medic pleaded.

Takeshi gave the nod, and Jon felt a pneumatic injector gun on his neck. The snap hiss of rushed air forcing a dose of anesthetic into his body. The numbing cold swept through his body and felt himself slipping into a relaxed sleep. Darkness gradually closed in on his eyes as the light faded from consciousness.

#

Consciousness returned to Jon in a chair with his arms detached and a belt fastening him down. He wasn’t getting loose and someone went to the effort of ensuring that remained the case. His chest ached, but he had to give credit to the Toranaga surgeons for doing a competent job. Even if they probably just let a MedBed carry the bulk of heavy lifting.

He sat in front of a large window, giving him a full view of the area where Haltech’s tower once stood. The only sign from the top contractor company remained there being the large dust plume that lazily blew into the sky and drifted into the city. The debris would dim the sun for hours. It was his fault, but he resolved to make the call again and again if he thought there was even a slight chance it would destroy the intelligences.

And yet, he failed. For all the planning, for all the effort, in the end, he still failed. He once thought this would shatter him, but looking back, he only found amusement in it. He stood where no one else dared and fought back when no one cared. More than that, he was ok with himself. He spent so long loathing what he was afraid of becoming, that he lost track of the fact he was still just trying to be the best guy he could.

Takeshi strode in with his father, Oda. Oda Toranaga was an old man, well into his 200s. Even with regular gene re-sequencing, cellular monitoring augments and cloned organs, age and death continued their ever present march into oblivion. True, Oda had stunted that progress and built his company into one that now practically ran Japan. And now his son had accomplished that feat in the US.

“This is the secondary asset, father. The weapon with which we’ll maintain our corporate dominance.”

Oda scrutinized Jon closely, leaning close to him and huffing in disgust.

“This gaijin?” Oda turned back to Takeshi. “Why him?”

“Because the super intelligence sought someone out with the right profile. Driven. Loyal. A code of honor. Someone who couldn’t look the other way in the face of an egregious crime, and do what must be done.”

Oda’s white bushy brow crooked upwards curiously. “What are you playing at, Takeshi?”

“Engram manipulation. Masters-san won’t work for us as he is, true. But that can be rectified if we use Reaper to rip his engram out and then install it on a platform of our choice.”

Oda’s wrinkled eyes widened, spreading his crow’s feet apart significantly as realization dawned on the old mastermind. Then a pleased smile eased in behind his wispy white mustache and beard to replace it.

“Tak-kun. You have done well. If this plan of yours pans out, as you say, you will have earned back my favor.”

Something twisted behind Takeshi Toranaga’s features. Indignation. Rage. Disappointment. Abandonment. Decades of paternal neglect all bubbled up in one instant. The dam broken.

Takeshi lunged forward, seizing his father by the throat and hoisting the old man into the air. Oda struggled for air, gasping and clawing at Takeshi’s iron grip on the old man’s throat. The struggle lessened as nearly 200 years of weary life faded into Takeshi’s choke hold on his father’s throat. Eventually, Oda’s body went limp, and he dropped his father into a heap. He stood, panting over his father’s dead body, before taking a step back and turning to face Jon.

“Well. It’s unfortunate you had to see that.”

He swiped an overlay up and flicked through a few gestures. An instant later, three mechs stepped into the room. One on each side bearing his arms. The other a Reaper wreath. He issued a few programs, then closed the overlay, the blue glow fading from his eyes. He met Jon’s gaze, and the cold, lifeless ambivalence Jon felt from Takeshi Toranaga sent a shiver through what remained of his flesh and blood body.

“I’m going to blame this on you. Then I’m going to rip your mind from your body, killing you. Then I’m going to use you to complete my plan, executing CEOs and other corporate officials of companies that refuse to toe the line. All with you trapped inside a digital nightmare. And you’ll remember none of this. Save what I allow you to. Your existence will become a mere shadow of yourself. A specter straddling the line between life and death. What do you say to that?”

Jon laughed. What did you say to that? This was the end game all along. They had marched him like a toy soldier into this very instant. He shook his head, uncertain.

“What’s to say? You’re a monster, Takeshi Toranaga. And somehow, someway, I’m going to end you for this.”

Takeshi grinned at Jon as the mech placed the Reaper wreathe around his head and fitted to his implant. “No. I don’t think you will. But if it gives you some measure of peace as you exit this mortal coil, I’ll allow you the dream.”

Takeshi then ordered the mech with its hands empty to retrieve his father. He turned to Jon, giving him one last look. Jon’s thoughts went back to his father. He spent his life growing up in fear of his father. Afraid he would become a monster, incapable of controlling himself like his father. That he might harm someone he loved unconsciously. Yet, before him stood Takeshi Toranaga, a man who murdered his father in cold blood.

A measure of pride slid into his heart knowing he never become the monster the was afraid of. He faced that demon, accepted it, and made peace with it. He only hoped his father could see what he’s become, what he tried to accomplish. Would his old man be proud? Would he even care?

Jon had spent most of his life loathing and distancing himself from the old man. What if his old man resented him for it? Jon supposed that was fair. Their family had fallen apart. Nothing had ever quite been right or the same since. He couldn’t begrudge his old man holding it against him if he did. The hopeful part of Jon would like to hope his old man would be proud despite that, though.

His son stood up to the devil, and while he may have lost, he gave as good as he got. This was fair, he figured, setting out on a path of revenge. It was a suicide mission all along. He just never expected to punch as well as he had. And if they were going to rip a copy of his mind? Then that meant there’d be enough of him left to be a stubborn pain in the ass later. He’d never stop fighting. Holding onto that measure of peace, even as the piercing pain and fire ripped through his mind and spread through his body like an inferno. The Reaper scraped and burned away everything he ever was. Every memory he held sacred and vile. Every neuron that made Jonathan Masters, who he is? Copied and burned away in a searing fire of light.

‎