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Chapter Forty-Five

SHOCKS Headquarters, Victoria, British Columbia - June 6, 2043, 11:37 PM

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“Three. Two. One.”

The window exploded, and Strauss swung through it instantly, rolling into the room before the glass had even finished hitting the carpet. The rest of RST Lambda-Four was already up, moving down the hall and securing the house’s exits as he and Rodriguez rushed for the bedroom. The target should be there, and SHOCKS needed him—alive.

He kicked the door right next to the handle, and it burst open; it hadn’t been locked, but seconds counted on target-acquisition missions, and the RST wasn’t worried about leaving evidence behind. Speed over stealth. Rodriguez had her gun up, the selector set to stun, so Strauss moved toward the only other door. The blueprint had said it was a walk-in closet, but Rodriguez’s plan wasn’t taking any chances.

Rodriguez was already shouting orders at the man in the bed, her weapon in his face. Something about an arrest for drug use and distribution. Strauss rolled his eyes behind his face shield; that was a lie. Eric Baynard was clean. He’d been clean his whole life.

He was a pediatric augment specialist, though, and he had experience installing the specific model of aug that, even now, a SHOCKS agent was acquiring. And right now, that was what Director Ramirez believed his plan needed.

Strauss hoped it was true. Getting an anomalous human off the street was one thing, but kidnapping a civvie? That didn’t sit right with him, and they’d been doing it a lot recently.

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SHOCKS Headquarters, Victoria, British Columbia - June 7, 2043, 5:15 AM

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I wake up way too early. Again.

It’s becoming a habit, and not one I asked for. I used to get up early enough to get Alice moving before school, but not like this. The sun probably isn’t even up yet.

Doctor Twitchy has a long, long list of realities to visit, and so far, we’re only four deep into it. All Geren-Danger, but still—I’ve been busy every day.

After R-1421, we visited R-780. It barely even qualified as Geren. The hard part was navigating it, not anything monstrous; it’s a constantly shifting reality, and apparently, it’s been causing problems near Ucluelet. Not anymore. It took me almost seven hours in the borderline unreal space, and I felt way too thin when I got out, but it’s disconnected from Victoria now.

So are R-36 and R-1598.

The first one was weird. Everything in it was me. The walls were me. The monsters were me. Even the sky, somehow, was me. Eventually, I solved that one by convincing myself to stop merging with R-0. My migraine was brutal for the rest of the day; all I could do was try—and fail—to sleep.

And the other one? That one dropped me into the middle of a battlefield, but one where I was a giant. The tallest person fighting there was maybe half an inch, and nothing the armies had could even make me bleed. I tried not to kill too many of the tiny people as I destroyed their merge gate with the Revolver—which outclassed their weapons by a thousand times.

So, that’s four realities explored, and four merges stopped.

There’s no new message from Doctor Twitchy on my monitor across the room. So that’s a nice change. And I have grown from all this. It’s not extreme growth, but it’s growth.

[System Access: 100%]

[Recalculating Skills, Knowledges, Bonds, and Inquiries. Adjusting Stability]

[Claire Pendleton]

►Stability 5/10

►Skills - Endurance 6, Urban Combat 4, Anomalous Computing Systems 4, Physical Anomaly Resistance 7, Open Mind 1, Revolver Mastery 14, Compulsion Resistance 2, SHOCKS Database 1, Infohazard Resistance 9, Memetic Resistance 8, Gravity Shells, Reality Anchoring 3, First Aid 1, Toxin Resistance 3, Bullet Time, Slither, Smoke Form, Analyze, Mergewalk, Mindscape: ERROR. Missing Component, Soundbreak

►Truths - Anomalous Bond, West End High, SHOCKS Research Facility, JAMES, Stag Lord, Halcyon Bond, Li Mei and Infovampires, Dr. Dwyer, Provisional Reality AAA, Mergekilling

►Inquiries (3/5)

►What is Merge Prime?

►Are Sora and my family okay?

►What’s going on at Albert Head and West End High?

James hasn’t made any progress on figuring out the Mindscape skill, and neither have I. It’s supposed to be sleep-based, but the missing component is a problem.

Soundbreak’s a weird one, though. It’s like a wave of pressure and sound, then a void behind it. When it snaps back, it causes an implosion and shockwave that shatters concrete. Not much concrete; it’s like peeling layers off a wall, not exploding it. But it’s nice to have something that’s not just the Revolver.

5:17. 5:18. My bed’s comfortable, and I don’t have any real interest in getting up. For the last three days, there’s been a message: ' Claire Pendleton, report to the JAMES Experimental Sector for [REDACTED].’ It’s not here today, so I shut my eyes again.

The monitor will beep when Doctor Twitchy’s got a job for me, anyway. James wanted to deactivate it, but I insisted. One small sacrifice to smooth things over; it can beep at me, since James is turning off every other interaction SHOCKS has with me short of sending someone to knock on my door. They have to be able to talk to me, right?

I close my eyes for just a second.

The monitor beeps at me.

The clock says 6:45. A miracle—enough sleep. I get up, pad over to it in my pajamas, and stare at the message. ‘Claire Pendleton, report to Director Ramirez’s office at your convenience.’

Well, that’s different.

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I report at my convenience.

After a shower and a plastic container of yogurt—vanilla, of course—out of my mini-fridge, I’m almost ready to deal with Doctor Twitchy. But before I go, there’s something else I need to do. I walk down the hall, swallow my nervousness as best I can, and open Dad’s door.

His room’s a lot like the living room back in our basic living apartment but with a few extra features. The bed’s untouched and perfectly made in the corner, though Dad’s tossed a few changes of clothes on it. The TV’s on. It’s still blaring news at his chair, and even though it’s not the same tattered armchair, it’s floating in a sea of bottles and cans, just like the one at home. I’d rather not be here. I’d rather deal with my next errand first.

“Hi, Dad,” I say.

He turns his head and looks my way for a second. Then he mutes the TV. “What do you want, Claire?”

To leave, I don’t say. I can’t stop playing with my hoodie pulls, rubbing them back and forth in one hand. I do say, “I lost Mom’s dress, but I know who might have it, and I’m going to get it back.” That’s one of the rules for confessing something to Dad. Never let the last part of your sentence be the bad news.

Before he can do more than narrow his eyes, I keep going. “When I went missing, I ended up in a hospital room near here. They must have taken it because I woke up in a hospital gown, and later, they gave me leggings and a hoodie. I never saw it again, but I bet they kept it. I’m going to try to find it and bring it back, okay?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

That’s the other thing. Catching him when he’s just woken up is usually the best time. Sure, he’s hung-over, but he’s not drunk. He nods slowly. “You’d better.” There’s a threat there, but I ignore it. Or at least, I don’t put him in his place. I could. The truth is that Dad hasn’t scared me since I came back home.

But I don’t want to break him, and he’s already powerless here. He used to be a rock, and it’s going to be a process for him to be one again—if he even wants to. “Do you need anything?” I ask.

“Yeah. Fridge. Something light for the morning.” The TV starts again, an endless tsunami of news crashing over Dad, and he stops paying attention to me.

I don’t stop paying attention to him, though. Even when I stop watching him and grab the ice-cold can out of the mini-fridge, I’m still listening. The can’s not a brand I recognize at all. I grab it anyway. There’s a current of soft, steady breaths under the TV’s waves, and it doesn’t stop when I hand him the can. It doesn’t stop until I’m out in the hall again, and I can finally breathe easy myself.

Next up is Alice. I take a minute to reset after a perfect Dad conversation; she’d be proud of how well I kept myself together. Then, I open the door to her room.

She’s asleep. Of course, she’s asleep. That’s familiar, and a grin creeps across my face as I think about waking her up. I can probably have her in the shower before she realizes we’re not going to be late for school.

Instead, I write a note on the whiteboard. She had one of those in our room, next to her makeup table and mirror. It had her schedule. That one was full of expo marker writing. This one’s blank. That makes sense; it’s not like she has any obligations.

I scribble something on it.

Lunch with Claire - June 7, 12:30

That’ll be enough to catch up, and maybe enough to start getting her on some sort of schedule.

The last four days have been hard for her. She’s met with the researchers several times, but there’s no progress on the Li Mei problem—just like I thought. And the only people she can put on a mask for are Dad, Itsuki, or Mr. and Mrs. Ito. She’s got to be drowning without all her masks. A lunch with me might be enough to let her wear the Big Sister one again. I can only hope, because she’s not herself at all here.

I leave before she can wake up.

Outside of our wing, SHOCKS keeps operating in a frenzy. An RST trooper falls in behind me; I’m too valuable for them to let me wander off. I ignore her and weave through the researchers and agents moving through the halls and checking in on the anomalies they’ve still contained.

It takes a few minutes to get through everything, but eventually, I find myself outside Doctor Twitchy’s office. It’s past seven-thirty, but I don’t care that he’s been waiting for a solid hour. He said my convenience, not urgently, so it’s not a mission.

And, according to James, I’m supposed to be in charge. He shouldn’t be able to summon me at will. James is busy. Chicago’s going now, and so are Beijing and Tokyo, so for the foreseeable future, he’s more ‘on call’ and less ‘actively here’ when I’m not going Mergewalking. That’s fine. He’s still watching, just not directly engaged.

I open the door.

Doctor Twitchy’s at one desk, and Lieutenant Rodriguez sits at a smaller one. She looks up for a second, then returns to whatever she’s working on. Her eyes have bags under them, and she slumps in her seat. Is that just exhaustion from dealing with Merge Prime for two weeks? Or was last night a rough one?

Doctor Twitchy clicks something on his screen and stands up. “Claire, I have good news. We’ve acquired both a new set of augs for you and an expert to do the installation.”

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The augs are Radia AO-Four Silvers.

They’re not top-end—that’s the platinum line—but they’re a massive upgrade over my charity augs. They have better heat dispersal, faster zooms, and more storage for images. Or for games. I’m already looking forward to expanding my horizons past Knights of the Apocalypse Three.

James is thrilled, too. He’s trying not to show it, but all of a sudden, his attention’s back on me. I can tell he’s looking forward to augs that actually work for a change. As Doctor Twitchy blabs on and on about the augs, dumbing them down as we walk down the hall, James pulls up the real specs. They’re good. Compared to my augs, they might as well be light years ahead.

[I’m estimating seventy-three percent longer Analysis simulations,] James says. [Less heat build-up, too. I should be able to task an individual camera to my direct control, too, so I can adjust my field of vision without interfering with yours too much. Plus, we can run the thermal and sonar add-ons. Nothing you’re easily compatible with is going to run an X-ray vision suite, so this is as good as it gets for now. The aural augs are a massive upgrade, too. I’ll be able to pick up sub-hearing decibel sounds, and we should be able to take advantage of that.

Doctor Twitchy coughs once. “Our installation expert’s in the medical wing. You’ve been there before, but we’ll need to put you completely under for the installation.”

“No,” I say before I can think about it. Then I look away. The truth is that there’s no way anyone can install an aug in my ear—to say nothing of my eye—without knocking me out. But that’s a problem; I trust SHOCKS about…not at all. “James, thoughts?”

[I’m already in all the systems,] he says, [So that should be fine.]

It should be. But it’s not. I stop walking. “We need to talk. All three of us—right here. James, are you in his aug?”

[Yes. Hello, Director Ramirez.] James’s voice changes. It’s digital and synthetic all of a sudden; he’s lying to Doctor Twitchy about what he is.

“Okay. James, can you guarantee I’ll be safe through this?”

[Yes. I have complete control over all connected and non-gapped systems in SHOCKS,] he says.

Doctor Twitchy doesn’t say anything. His hand taps against his side, though; he’s nervous. I watch as he looks up and to the right, where his aug must be. He’s listening to James say something, but I don’t know what.

Why doesn’t James want to share it with me? For a second—one horrible second—I wonder if he’s planning to double-cross me. But no, that’s stupid. If he wanted to do that, he’s had plenty of chances. So he’s threatening Doctor Twitchy or something. Judging by the bogeyman’s face, it’s got to be that.

A moment later, James’s voice comes in over my aug. It’s his real voice—or at least, the British-sounding one I like. [Okay, I’ve got an idea of which room they’re going to upgrade you in, and I’m shifting over a few processing loops to follow you more closely. If anything does happen, I’ve explained to Director Ramirez that I’ll release all the Xuduo-Danger anomalies, seal your friends and family in the safe wing, and open all the other security doors.]

“So, uh, yes. The operating room is ready. It’ll be you and the expert. No SHOCKS personnel, as requested by the JAMES Unit. We’ll put our merge explorations on hold until you’ve adjusted fully to the new augs. After that, I’m looking at a couple of key high-Geren to low-Xuduo-Danger realities we might be able to shut down…but, er, that’s a later conversation,” Doctor Twitchy’s ramble fades slowly as I stare at him, and he leads me down the hall.

He drops me off at a small room next to the place where the surgery’s going to happen. The moment he leaves, my heart starts racing. The room looks a lot like the exam room in Aberdeen Hospital, and the hospital gown’s eerily familiar, too. People died in that place. The anomalies that came through killed them. But SHOCKS doesn’t want me dead, and they can’t put me in a box right now. I take a deep breath and start changing, but my shoulders won’t loosen up.

“James, make sure they knock me out before I leave this room,” I demand. If the operating room looks anything like the one in Aberdeen, I’m going to lose my shit, so it’s better if I don’t see it at all.

[Got it, Claire. It’s going to be okay.]

I relax instantly, even though it’s the same line Mom and Alice and a dozen adults have fed me. James won’t let anything happen to me here.

He’s telling me the truth.

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I wake up in my room. Not the surgical room or the room I got ready in. My room, in the wing James says is safe. My augs are offline, but the vertigo’s not as bad as last time.

The IV in my arm feels familiar. And unwelcome. Is SHOCKS drugging me again? My hand follows the line as my single eye slowly focuses and unfocuses. But before my clumsy fingers can find the IV stand, someone touches my fingers, and I pull back and ball my fist.

“Claire, good news,” Doctor Twitchy says cheerily. It’s tough to hear him through a single ear. “The installation was a success. Two-hour operation, a little slower than we were hoping, but according to the JAMES Unit, the augs should take between six and twenty-four hours to sync with your body fully. Until then, you’re on your own.”

“Wha?” The word feels mealy in my mouth. My tongue’s huge, and I bite it a little bit as I finish the word.

Doctor Twitchy laughs, and I glare at him. “You’re coming out of anesthesia. The augs need time to sync so you can use them correctly, and we can’t rush that process. Otherwise, we could cause real damage to your vision and hearing. The JAMES Unit agrees with our assessment, and in fact, it threatened us if we forced you back into duty before June Ninth. Unfortunately, that means we’re likely sacrificing some smaller communities on Vancouver Island and elsewhere, but the JAMES Unit is correct that we can’t rush.”

“Proof?”

“You want me to prove the JAMES Unit’s still active and looking out for you?” Doctor Twitchy asks.

I nod. This seems like bullshit to me. Could SHOCKS have figured out how to counter James’s takeover? Or are they just going for it and calling his bluff? I want to ask him, but right now, I’m cut off.

“Okay, I can do that. The JAMES Unit suggested a phone call, and we have your old phone. Will that do?”

“Text, too.” It’s hard to think. My head’s so fuzzy.

“Understood.” Doctor Twitchy pulls out the phone. He’s had it the whole time, and for a second, I want to grab him and try to find my mom’s dress, too. He has to know what happened to it. He probably has it in storage somewhere, like it’s anomalous, too.

Then James’s voice comes over the phone. [Sorry. I thought it’d go faster. All the installation information read as a thirty-minute process, usually while the aug host was out, but according to the expert, you’ve got some damage in your nerve/aug connections from running your old augs hot. That’s why it’s going to take longer. The expert had to set the sync to several small steps.]

I collapse back into bed. Just that information’s enough. That, and James’s voice. “’Kay,” I say. It’s about all I can handle verbally.

[I’m running double processing loops to make sure SHOCKS isn’t trying anything, Claire. The doc they found wasn’t a volunteer. They picked him up last night, then amnestitized him and dumped him back at his home when they were done with him. He’d have no reason to lie about this, though, and the burnt nerves make sense to me. That’s partially my fault. Sorry.]

“So, you’re convinced?” Doctor Twitchy asks. Then, he puts a hand half over his mouth a moment later. “I mean, you’re not going to panic about being cut off from the JAMES Unit for a few hours?”

“No. “S’good.” And it is. I don’t like it. But it’ll be fine. I think. No one’s lying, and James has control over the situation.

So, as Doctor Twitchy takes the phone and sets it on my desk next to the computer monitor, I let myself drift off in the room’s silence.