James’s simulation wasn’t finished.
It had been his masterpiece—the most complicated reality simulation he’d ever run and possibly the most complex sim ever on Earth. But things kept evolving too quickly in realspace, and he couldn’t keep up. There were millions—maybe billions—of variables, and he’d never considered this one. Not that Li Mei couldn’t appear, but that Alice would hit her.
As Claire’s sister tried to swing at a Xuduo-Danger anomaly with a history of violence, he scrapped the terabytes of data he’d collected.
It was all trash now, anyway, and it’d take seconds to finish the project. Seconds he didn’t have.
There was a door he hadn’t opened yet, though. It didn’t go to the SHOCKS database. He had a guess as to where it did go, but opening it was a one-way trip. It’d let his processing power fully merge with the Halcyon System’s. But he couldn’t undo it.
Claire seemed to be moving in Jell-O, and everyone else was even slower. Alice’s fist hadn’t connected with the shadowy blob of Li Mei’s body yet, so there was still time. Whole milliseconds. He could relax and ponder his only options.
He could let the fist connect and do nothing. That’d be the easiest thing to do. If he did, Li Mei would devour Alice’s memories, her thoughts…everything. She’d be gone. A husk. And for all that Claire seemed to despise her sister, she’d come here first. Not to Duncan—the wrong way, in spite of what she’d been telling herself. Not to her best friend, the one person she kept saying she could trust. Here, to her messed up family. Li Mei eating Alice would break her.
So that option wouldn’t work. And time was running out.
Could he do anything with Smith? Using him to counter Li Mei would be ideal, but after a few nanoseconds of debate, James decided against it. There simply wasn’t a way to brute force a connection to Smith, get him moving, and get in the way in time, even if the Director was in position. Which, of course, he wasn’t.
That left two options. Either figuring out how to wake Claire’s dad and gambling that Robert Pendleton could stop his daughter with a sudden move before he realized what was going on. Unlikely.
Or.
James could open the door. That would give him options. He didn’t know what they were, but the golden geometric sun might have a solution. And wouldn’t being part of the Halcyon System—or the System in its entirety—be preferable to watching someone die when he could do something?
He looped around his circuit. It was more than he’d ever had in the SHOCKS database, but not enough to solve this problem.
Then he reached out and jerked the door open.
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Building Three-Five, Victoria, British Columbia - May 31, 2043, 7:13 PM
- - - - -
[Don’t move!]
James’s voice echoes in my head. My sister’s fist slams into Li Mei’s body. And just like that, as if she’s been covered in midnight, Alice disappears. She’s surrounded by a thrashing, howling Li Mei.
“What the fuck?” Dad says. He pops up from his armchair, a bottle clinking to the ground. I freeze reflexively halfway to Alice. Smith’s gun’s trained on Li Mei, but he doesn’t fire.
Then Dad’s up, and James is quiet, and Smith’s running for the door. The blob that was Alice and Li Mei thrashes on the floor, and I quickly slot the gravity shells into the Revolver and fire one into Smith’s path.
Smith slides to a halt in front of the singularity that’s tearing our apartment door to shreds. His notepad’s on the ground on the other side of the apartment. I take a glance at it; it’s empty.
Dad takes one look at the man with the gun and says, “Claire, go to your room.” It’s automatic. Like clockwork. He doesn’t even look at me, and he definitely doesn’t see the Revolver pointed Smith’s way.
I take a step toward my bedroom before I even think about it. [I said…I said don’t move. This is taking way too much effort to hold together,] James says.
Smith can’t leave. Dad’s only got eyes for him, and they’re narrowed and bloodshot. James is doing…something…so he’s not available. And Alice and Li Mei look like they’re involved in a wrestling match for their lives. So that leaves the three of us—Dad, Director Smith, and me—in a stand-off.
[Stall. I’m…I’m working on a solution, but it…won’t…cooperate.] James’s voice sounds strained, like he’s lifting weights or trying to carry a heavy box up a flight of stairs. But I can do what he needs me to do.
“Everyone, stop for a second,” I say. Smith rolls his eyes, his gun trained on Li Mei again. I’m glad I’m not the threat, but I really wish he’d stop pointing that damn thing at my sister. If he shoots my ‘bestie,’ that’s fine. But not Alice. Anything but Alice.
Dad looks at me for the first time. His eyes widen, and I can see just how red they are. He hasn’t just been drinking. Those are tear eyes. “Claire?”
“Dad, listen. Alice is in that thing. Don’t move, and whatever you do, don’t touch it.” I pause, thinking back to when I shoved Li Mei into James’s tank. Why didn’t she react like this to that touch? “James, what’s going on?”
[I’m…fully integrated.] James sounds unfocused. Or maybe hyperfocused. [A little…busy. A million crises. Give me some time.]
Before I can say anything else, our time runs out.
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Dad goes for Alice—and for Li Mei.
James yells at me to stop him.
My Revolver goes off. So does Smith’s.
Li Mei and Alice keep thrashing on the floor, fighting each other. And I have no idea who’s going to win that one.
I don’t have time to figure it out, either. The gravity shell rips Dad off his feet and throws him into the air. He swears, but I’m already using Bullet Time. I fire the last two shells in my cylinder toward Smith, one to either side of him.
As time starts again, his gun goes off. It roars fire. The shell hits the ceiling. Bores through it. He fires again. That’s three, and this one’s close to hitting…something.
I throw myself into the kitchen. Pizza stick wrappers go flying, but I’m already switching cylinders. Dad shouts something from mid-air. I ignore him. He’s not important. The only things that matter are Alice, Li Mei, and whatever James is doing.
And Director Smith.
He’s stopped firing. After our shooting, the silence is deafening. I can hear the duel Alice and Li Mei are having. I can hear Dad’s heavy breathing as he hovers in mid-air. And I can hear Director Smith talking.
“Claire, we’re going to get through this,” he says. “You have no idea what I’ve had to sacrifice on the chessboard to get to this position, where it’s just me against a couple of pawns, with the queen on the line.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I respond, creeping to the far side of the counter. His gun can probably punch right through it, but he can’t have too many shots left…can he? The equation’s impossible to hold together.
[Halcyon System induction message sent. It’s out of my hands now,] James says. He sounds more himself than ever. [If you’re going to make a move, do it now.]
“Got it.” I switch cylinders to the flaming shells and throw myself around the corner. As I do, I use Bullet Time again. Smith’s gun is mid-shot, and I pull my trigger three times. Three shots, centered on him. I’m attacking a person. A real, living person. Is that a first? It might be. But he’s shooting at my sister, and even though she’s a liar and a fake, she’s my sister, and no one gets to kill her but me.
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Time moves again. One of my shots hits. It punches into Smith’s free hand, and he screams. But his shot slams into the Li Mei/Alice blob in the middle of our living room floor.
Now I scream, too, and I pull my trigger four more times, emptying my cylinder. Nothing hits. The window’s curtain catches fire, smoldering like an angry monster, and the smoke pools against the ceiling. The basic living building’s automatic sprinklers kick in, dousing the whole room in water. Dad rushes for a fire extinguisher.
And Smith fires again. I feel the punch against my stomach, but it doesn’t hurt. Not like I’d expect it to. A moment later, I use Slither to close the gap. He’s only got one shot left, and he can’t hurt me.
He knocks Dad down and dashes for the door and disappears through it. My finger tightens on the Revolver’s trigger as he vanishes, but all I get is a clicking sound. I glance back at Dad, now on the floor, and at Li Mei and Alice.
[There’s nothing you can do for them. I’m handling it.] James’s voice is determined now. [I’m building a sim for—done. Director Smith simulation completed. Your injury’s going to be a problem soon, but if you leave him out there, he’ll come back and try to take you away—especially since he knows about me now.]
“So what do I do?”
James’s reply sends chills down my spine. [Finish the fight. Make sure he can’t hurt you or your family.]
“Can I trust them alone back here?”
[Do you have a choice?]
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It turns out the answer is no. I’d like to have a choice, but James is right.
So, even though I can’t trust Li Mei, Dad, or Alice, I leave them behind. The Revolver’s shells glow bright orange, and the cold weight of my other cylinder hangs in my hoodie pocket right next to a bullet hole.
Yeah, that’s started to hurt. But it’s a dull hurt, not one that’ll slow me down. At least, not yet.
The basic living building’s main hall is dark. Something’s kicked the lights out, and the emergency lights cast a pallid green glow over the familiar place, making it seem strange and alien. That’s not helped by a thumping, sliding sound as one of the Fungal Lords climbs the building.
A bullet slams into the molding around a door, chipping wood and concrete. “Clarice, I’ve got a first aid kit and a mobile URA. If you surrender, I’ll patch you up. That wound’s got to hurt. If not, I’ll try not to kill you. You’re too valuable to neutralize, but I can’t lose what I know, either.”
“I don’t care.” I fire the Revolver at a shadowy figure near the vending machines. The drink one explodes, spilling fizzy ginger ale and Coke into the hall. The smell of that much sugar’s almost repulsive. And almost enticing. “I’m not going.”
“Yes, you are.”
The equation’s weird. It doesn’t work, no matter what I do. Director Smith should be acting logically, and logically, killing me doesn’t fit in with his plans. So—I pull my head back as his gun cracks and a bullet hits near me—so, why is he shooting that damn thing my way? And what’s going on behind me with Alice and Li Mei? My heart won’t stop pounding; all I want to do is check on her and make sure she’s okay. How could she be okay, though?
How could she not?
Smith breaks cover. His pistol fires into a door twice, and he ducks into a neighbor’s apartment. I run toward the door, slicing the pie like Strauss and Rodriguez and hours of video games taught me so he can’t get a shot off before I can. Then, I use Smoke Form and let myself disappear as Smith’s gun cracks out. One. Twice. Three times.
[Skill Learned: Urban Combat 3]
By the time I rematerialize, he’s gone again.
I whirl. He shouldn’t be able to vanish like that. His feet pound the hallway tiles, and I run after him. The Revolver’s up, and I Slither when he shoots again. He’s heading for the common area, and I don’t have a way to get in front of him. I fire, and he throws himself onto the tile.
The shot misses.
Then, before I can take another, he’s up, firing wildly. The round wings off the wall behind me and caroms onto the floor. I can see him reloading. Now’s my chance!
But before I can get a shot off, even with another Slither to reposition myself, he’s gone. I run into the common area in the center of my basic living building, searching for him.
There’s nothing. Just the fake potted plants, another set of vending machines, and rows of benches—each designed to be impossible to lie on comfortably; I know, I’ve tried. They’re bucket seats, really, not benches. Row after row of them, under a big screen TV too high up to steal, even if you could open the metal cage around it.
“Plan?”
[Let me do my thing,] James says. [I’m getting used to all the new spaces.]
I don’t have time to parse that. Instead, I push forward, shells glowing in the Revolver’s cylinder. Smith’s gun cracks, a quick flash of bright light from behind the benches three rows away. I throw myself behind the steel chairs, getting my head down, and peer between the gaps between them.
He’s doing the same thing about thirty feet down, slantways beside the open area. I can see all the way up to the top floor there, and all the way down to the bottom. What I can’t do is hit him. And he can’t hit me, either.
“Clarice, we’re at an impasse,” Smith calls out. His voice sounds friendly. Almost parental. But it’s a lie, and under it, it’s obvious how forced it is. He’s hurting. “How about we talk through this?”
“No.” I fire a shot his way—not because I think I can hit him, but to keep his head down. It’s not quite standard urban combat tactics, and Strauss would disapprove of wasting the shots with the cooldown on my cylinders, but it does do the job. As the flaming ray crashes into a chair and dissipates, I hop over the bench row and dash forward. My shoulder slams into the next row of chairs, and I drop back to a crouch.
Three shots answer from him. They slam into the chairs I was just behind. One of them even punches through. Shit. Shit shit shit. My Revolver’s going to do more damage if I can get a hold of him, but his might be able to punch through my flimsy cover.
I drop down onto my belly and worm my way under the bench. Smith doesn’t know where I am; that’s my biggest advantage. I grab the gravity shot cylinder; I’ve got an idea.
But he’s on the move before I can capitalize on it. I watch him crouch and run but can’t get a shot. “Where’s he going?” I hiss-whisper.
[I think he’s trying to get behind us.]
My blood runs cold, and I forget about the ache in my stomach for a moment. No matter what happens out here, I can’t let him get back to my apartment. He knows I won’t do anything if Alice is in danger, and I wouldn’t put it past him to hurt her if it means winning. So I use Slither and Shadow Form together to push myself out from under my place under the benches.
[Stability 5/10]
Right away, Smith’s firing. He puts three shots through my Shadow Formed chest, and I have to use Bullet Time right away as I return fire. One of my shots hits him, and he goes down. I break cover, dashing through the dark, but he’s back up a moment later.
His hurt hand’s on his shoulder, but he’s between me and the apartment. How is he still up? He sprints toward it as I send two more shots at him. They miss. How can I hit a devoured from halfway across a merge, but I can’t hit Smith from thirty feet? My hands won’t stop shaking.
He gets to the door and shakes the handle. And it won’t open.
I fire again. This one hits the doorframe, and before I can fire again, he throws himself across the hall and into a little nook with a water fountain.
“Okay. Listen, Claire,” he says, using my preferred name for the first time all night. He sounds like he’s biting down pain, but I don’t care. “Listen. I’ve got what I need from you. It might even be enough. So, you back off, and I’ll head for the elevator. The current merge out there won’t last forever, and I’ll wait in the lobby until it stops.”
He’s lying.
[He’s lying,] James says a moment later. [Smith’s a true believer in SHOCKS. He won’t leave one dangerous anomaly uncontained, much less two. Not if he thinks he can recontain or neutralize them.]
My first thought is to fire back at him, but I won’t hit him. So, instead, I finally decide to use my plan. I switch hands, shifting the ice-cold gravity cylinder into my right hand, and toss it down the hall over Smith’s head.
It clatters on the ground.
He looks toward it.
At the same time, I move.
The Revolver switches hands again. I pull the trigger. The shot goes wild. Strauss spins, and I stare down his Smith and Wesson’s gaping barrel.
[Analyzing. Overlaying Simulation.]
The red-dot figure’s gun kicks in his hand as a bullet surges toward you. You duck into the doorway/Slither/Smoke Form.
I pick Smoke Form as the bullet freezes just outside of Overlayed Smith’s gun barrel. I can see it kick in slow motion as it punches through me. A moment later, the real thing does, too. I keep going forward as my optic aug starts overheating, but James isn’t done yet.
Another bullet heads toward you. As it cuts the air, you Slither/dodge/fire back.
My options are getting worse. This time, I Slither the shot. It hits the wall behind me, and I appear less than twenty feet from Smith. The Revolver goes up—I have him in my sights. But another red-light bullet catches me in the chest. That one does hurt—a lot. I hit the ground. I can’t move.
[Resetting Simulation. Simulation reset. Let’s try that again!] James shouts in my ear.
The bullet heads toward me, and this time, I throw myself into the alcove. The impact drives the air from my lungs, but the bullet misses. So does the second. Now, we’re less than twenty feet from each other, and I can barely see from my blurry eye. “Enough, James!” I say.
[I’ll activate it again to save your life.]
“Okay.” He’s not lying, but I can’t imagine losing my eye, and if my aug gets any hotter, that’s what will happen. The math’s simple; my body can’t handle it, and neither can my aug.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I have to do.
Then I throw myself out into the hall and use Bullet Time.
It’s too late. The bullet’s already left Smith’s gun—it’s perfectly covering the gaping, dark barrel. I only have a second or two to decide what to do and do it. The math’s going to take too long. I have to trust my gut.
I pull the trigger three times. Time starts again.
Something splashes against my face, burning hotter than my optic aug—melted metal. I barely notice.
My eyes are on Smith as he takes all three shots. One catches his pistol. The other two hit his chest, and his suit smolders as he hits the ground.
I’ve killed him.
Holy shit. I’ve killed someone. This is different than blasting a thinling out of my way or fighting a dozen devoured. It’s even different than fighting the Stag Lord or planning out how to beat Li Mei. My eyes blur; I’m tearing up, even though I hated—
Wait.
Breathe.
I pull off my glasses and wipe the tears away. There will be time to deal with Smith later. But as my feet pound the tiles and I punch in the code to my apartment, I’m already gearing up to handle the biggest threat I’ve faced so far.
The Truth, with a capital T, is that Li Mei has my sister.