The world has changed.  Or rather, that is what it felt like to me when I finally woke up.  It was like everything had shifted just a little bit.  Even with my cloudy eyes, things appeared sharper than they had before, brighter in a way in the dim light.  Shadows were darker and had far more depth than usual.

The world had changed.  It’s the only way I could describe it.  Sadly, such shifts in perception was a common occurance for me.  At nine years old, my pale and sickly thin body often contained a host of chemicals and prototype designer drugs.  At nine years old, I intimately knew what the word ‘slave’ meant.

The haze caused by the heavy dose of anesthesia slowly clears up as I lay on the metal gurney, my eyes the only thing moving as I work on getting used to the way things now look.  As far as I can tell nothing else has changed, but then again I’m rather use to the feeling.  A regular person would likely be freaked out, or on one hell of a high from the experience.  To me it’s just an annoyance.

What’s even worse is that as the numbness from the rest of my body fades away, my fingers and toes start to twitch from the pins and needles running through them.  It almost hurt, but I’m unable to shift or message them.  My wrist and ankles are clamped down to the gurney, making me look like some lab experiment.  Then again, even on a good day I barely have the strength to lean down and massage my own feet anyway.

The only reason I’m alive in this situation is because of what I am.  A Type 1 Esper.  A human born with a superpower.  It’s also the reason why I am in this position.  Which is why I hate it.

I barely have time to start reminiscing though when the airlock door to the medical chamber opens with a hiss.  Turning my head slightly, I watch as three people enter the room, which of them wearing a sealed environment suit.  Why they’d need that sort of protection doesn’t really make much sense to me, but I presume it has to do with either me or the chemicals they are testing on me.  But I’ve seen them enter like that every time, so it’s something I’m use to.

“Subject 01 is awake and responsible.”  The man who came in first says in a gravelly voice.  The helmet is completely opaque, so I cannot see his face.  In fact I’ve never seen any of my captors faces before.  I’ve only ever seen a human face in videos or the handful of corporate drones that take care of my day to day needs.

I turn my head back into the thin pillow as the three come to surround the gurney, and soon enough they start poking and prodding while various pieces of medical equipment are extended from the walls and ceiling.  I don’t say anything, all but unable to speak as it is, and none of the three bother to talk to me directly either.  It doesn’t stop me from watching though.  Watching and learning.

Like almost all Espers, I have an accelerated learning ability.  It’s due to how my brain is wired, apparently.  While I’m physically nine years old, my mentality is pushing into the realm of the late teens.  Already I have what would be considered a high school education.  And that’s just the ‘average’ for Type 1 Espers.

The real kicker is my constitution.  My body is far stronger and more resilient than a regular humans.  That is the main reason why I’m in this predicament.  I can survive such inhumane treatment where others could not.  Where a single test could have wasted a dozen or more lives, I can survive it with a bit of recuperation.  

On the other hand, my metabolism is nearly 400% higher than others.  Which means I eat a lot.  Or would, if they fed me properly.  I haven’t felt full in a long time now, and have all but wasted away in the process.

Normally it would be impossible for anyone, much less an Esper to suffer this way.  The Solar Laws put in place decades ago give Espers special status and protection.  Or rather, it should be ‘usually’.  The Solar Defense Forces reach is quite long, but even they have a hard time keeping up with the ‘Fringe’ colonies further out than the asteroid belt.

The Minx Corporation Arcology built inside the Saturn moon Rhea is even further afield than that.  Almost at the limit of what can be colonized with our current technology.  Completely isolated and nearly self-sufficient, only the sporadic delivery of certain resources or goods is required to keep the Arcology functional.  Given that it houses some two million people, that’s quite the feat.

It also means that there are almost no outside forces present.  Which makes the Minx Corporation bold and unscrupulous.  I was born to a pair of corporate drones that then sold me to the corporation once I tested out for being an Esper.  I don’t even know their names, but I know they got quite a few perks from the trade.

Every corporation and government group in the solar system is actively engaged in trying to get as many Espers into their fold as possible.  The greater strength, intelligence, and endurance aside; the myriad powers that an Esper can have is the main draw.  The sort of power that can affect entire battlefields or change the way espionage is engaged in.

Not that any of that has anything to do with me.  Point in fact, I’m completely ignored when one of the three doctors or technicians or whoever they are comes over and shines a laser light from a black box right into one of my eyes, causing me to jerk as the scanner burns.  I grit my teeth, but the guy simply presses his fingers against my eyelids and forces me to keep my eye open while he works.

A moment later and the process is repeated with my other eye, leaving me disoriented and all but blind for a long while.  They didn’t even use a proper medical scanner on me, but an extremely high resolution technical scanner.  The sort used to measure atomic structures in computer or spaceship parts.  The sort that’d blind a normal person very quickly.

“Change confirmed in Subject-01’s retinal nerve.  Compound XCY-04-937F has congealed itself around the nerve tissue and is actively accelerating the signal pulses going through the nerve.  Looks to be a 12% increase in optical reaction speed.”

Ugh.  One of the people standing at a nearby terminal starts to speak out what exactly they did to me this time, and although I have my eyes closed, I can hear the pride and elation in his voice.  It’s sick to think that any of them could actually feel good about treating another person in this way; but it’s even worse knowing that they didn’t use to be this way.  Originally the three had protested quite loudly about my treatment when I was turned over to them two years ago.

Now they no longer even look at me like a human.  Just a test subject.  A lab rat.  I jerk a bit at the thought.  It catches the attention of the one who had just scanned my eyes.

“Okay, log all the data.  Subject-01 needs to be returned to his pod.  His vital signs took a hit during the procedure so up his substanance intake by ten percent for the next three days.  Schedule midday testing for him during that time.”

Finally.  The other two start moving as I zone out now that they are starting to put stuff away and get ready to take me back ‘home’.  If you could call an isolation pod a home.  They literally have to lift me up and onto a hovering pad to move me, given the weakness of my body right now.

Just going through the airlock is a thirty minute exercise in patience, given all the testing and scans that have to be done before the airlock doors will open.  Going in is far easier.  That said, at least I’m allowed to doze off a bit during the process.  I don’t have to stand around and do nothing like the three of them.

Getting back to my pod takes even longer, given the sheer size of the facility.  Not to mention the fact that there’s absolutely nothing beyond the tile-grey floors, off-white walls and lighting strips along the self-same ceiling.  All of it is utterly sterile and colorless.  Cheap, no doubt, but completely bland.

My ‘room’ though is even worse.  It’s nothing but a wide open space with a ten-foot by ten-foot silver metal sphere in the middle of it.  The Pod, as it is called, is a marvel of modern technology used across the solar system by the rich and famous.  A singular structure housing everything a person might need.  Most of it medical equipment used to keep the body living and in as close to perfect working order as can be accomplished.

In my case, my pod also houses a host of other mechanical wonders.  Most of which don’t mean jack to me.  Or usually at any rate.  In this case though I cannot wait to get put inside.  Which is fairly easily done, as one side of the silver sphere irises open exposing a light blue fluid held inside by a thin membrane of an energy field.  The grav-pad I’m on is basically tipped up to slide me into the pod which closes in after me.

Aaaaah, even I forget how warm and comfortable the gel-like fluid inside the pod is.  It’s like a warm bath that surrounds my whole body, and it no longer bothers me as I breath it into my lungs.  The gel is light enough that it is only a little different from air, although I have heard that others personalize theirs with tastes or scents to make it more enjoyable.  Mine is all stock though, which is just fine to me.  It doesn’t taste like anything.

Having been wearing nothing this entire time, I don’t have to bother taking anything off as the gel pressed up against my skin starts to harden.  It soon starts wiggling and squirming in what feels like a jacuzzi bubble bath combined with a full body massage.  It feels nice, except that most of my body is still rather sore and I end up grimacing.  It’s all part of the ‘washing’ routine programmed into the pod that keeps its occupants completely clean, at least on the outside.

Next though I’m given some relief as the automated scanners of the pod pick up my discomfort and pain and inject a pain reliever into the gel which I breath down.  It’s all automated because the gel is impregnated with nanites, which are remotely controlled from a computer built into the pod.  It’s really sad that I’m given better treatment from a machine than I am from other people.

Normally after this point I’d be commanding the pod, but my voice isn’t really working at the moment.  So instead I turn around and basically ‘swim’ through the gel to the control panel that lights up once I come within about a foot of it.  Reaching out, I press the preprogrammed command that causes the bottom of the pod to open up and a nearly bed-like chair to come up into its proper position.

This bed-like thing is the main reason why the Pods are so popular.  It’s a neural-link chair, the kind used to access cyberspace.  To step into a virtual world filled with anything and everything mankind has ever done, created, or destroyed.  Most use it for the conveniences of cyberspace-based businesses or time-accelerated learning.  Others for the virtual gaming opportunities.

For me, it could be considered my true home.  And not just because of the escape it provides me.  No, cyberspace has become my home in a way that all others could never fathom.  Because of my Esper ability.

Swimming down from where I was basically hanging against the wall, I twist myself around slowly and allow myself to ‘sink’ down into the bed, feeling the memory foam mold against my body.  It straightens out my posture and sets me upright all on its own, and I almost wish I could drift off to sleep.  I have to keep myself awake though.  I have work to do.

Lifting a hand, I reach around one side of the bed and hit the physical activator button for the neural-link to start up, causing the bed to slide up into a sitting position like a large chair even as an electric-like shiver goes through the foam material that’s cushioning me.  Unlike previous generations of neural-links that required a complicated arrangement of helmets and gloves or the like, so long as the bed here has access to bare skin it’s able to connect through the nervous system.  A direct connection to the head is always better though.

Even as that connection registers with me though, I close my eyes and allow myself to drift there in the darkness even as my senses expand outward.  Or rather, a part of my mind expands outward, filling up the digital pathways that lead into the cyberspace proper.  At the same time I almost want to groan as more and more of the ‘thing’ that normally resides in my mind is allowed its freedom and thus frees me up at the same time.

Espers come in all sorts.  Some are able to use telekinesis or telepathy.  Others are able to control the elements.  Some more still can even fold space itself.  Or fly.  Or breath under water.  Some even have powers that deal with cyberspace or computer systems.

I’m one of those, although no one knows it.  I’ve kept my awakening a secret.  At first it was out of spite, cause no one else even realized it.  But now that I know what all I can do, I don’t plan to tell anyone here, ever.  It’s my ticket out of this hellhole.

Both sides of me are jolted as the connection to cyberspace finally finishes, and the sudden rush of sounds, lights, and other such things flickers through my mind.  I block it all out though as I find myself in a small green-walled room, sitting in a simple padded chair.  My real body is asleep in my pod now, but my mind is definitely active here.  Both parts of my mind.

And that is where things are different from me than for others.  Cause while most that come into cyberspace are greeted with a virtual world that’s a totally realistic copy of the outside world, I can see otherwise.  I can literally ‘see’ the thousands and thousands of lines of coding that make up this virtual room.  And those that exist beyond it.

In fact, as my other-mind expands outward into cyberspace itself, I see more and more.  I just don’t see it though.  I process it.  After all, all cyberspace is is a massive program.  A very powerful, self-learning program.  The sort of program that might one day reach artificial intelligence levels.  Maybe.  Even I’m not too sure about that, but I do know there are limits set in place to stop it.  I’ve seen them for myself.

In this case though I’m not here to bugger around with the things that are here.  Instead, I turn my attention back the way I came, ‘looking’ at the connection that brought me into cyberspace.  That connection is part of the faster-than-light communication system developed to communicate across the far reaches of space in the solar system.  It was an early breakthrough in the research of faster-than-light travel, which even today has not been cracked.

Even the communication grid we built and use today is actually limited to the range just outside the solar system’s Oort Cloud.  The science behind it is very advanced, but I do know that it uses a subatomic particle that’s repulsive to photons.  It basically uses the light emitted from the sun to bounce away at speeds faster than the speed of light itself.  Which is why the communication grid works very well within the confines of the solar system, but outside of it wouldn’t do much of anything cause the subatomic particles actually slow down over time if they don’t get repulsed by a photon particle again.

Thus the closer to the sun it is, the faster the particles can move, and thus the faster communications and data transfer can happen.  The further out, the slower the speeds.  To augment those speeds, dedicated ‘light rails’ are used almost like lasers to send line-of-sight connections in bursts that speed up the process.  All in all, it keeps every colonized bit of human civilization connected even over distances that’d take months to reach in a spaceship.

Turning my attention to this ‘connection’ with the communications grid, I send my still growing other-mind back into it.  It stretches out, reaching back to the point where my physical body is, before sinking even deeper into the physical hardware connected to my pod.  This was a trick that took me awhile to get the hang of, because the time differences are quite wonky.  Even at faster-than-light the communication grid is not instantaneous.  Plus cyberspace has its own time-dilation effect.

My personal room here has a dilation of two times the speed of the outside world.  Other areas or games have dilations upward to 12 or even 16 times that of the outside world.  That’s the limit for the human brain though, cause things can majorly weird at higher speeds.

In any case, because of the blocks put in place by the Minx Corporation, I’m not able to send or receive messages in cyberspace.  Basically locked into a set of rooms I can use.  However with my Esper ability stretching out into the physical hardware connected to my pod, I’ve slowly been able to infiltrate the arcologies computer network.

This in itself has given me a few more freedom's, cause I’ve been able to log some changes without others picking up on it.  I do also try to hide my tracks when I do as well, making it look like others have put in the orders.  I get a bit more food now then I did about three months ago, for example.

Beyond that though, I’ve slowly been hacking into the communication network of the arcology.  While my other-mind doesn’t register as a computer program to any of the computer systems I connect with, the effects of any of the changes I do does.  So I have to bypass the countermeasures and safeguards put into place in order to do so.

As I learn more and my power grows though, I’ve gotten a lot faster and generally have found it easier to do than it first did over a year ago.  Back then my other-mind barely filled up my virtual room in cyberspace.  Now I can extend it far beyond my room in cyberspace.  In the real world, my range is roughly half the arcology itself.  Which is just massive.  If I use it in a pin-point way, like I’m doing now as I target in on the communications system, my reach is far, far longer.

It’s like having a plant growing out of my head.  A plant I can change the size and shape how however I want.  It can have many branches, limbs, and then leaves; becoming a wide bush but never expending very far.  Or it could be a long vine, reaching out and branching off only at a few places.  Or anything in between.  The kicker however is where that ‘plant’ is when I’m not connected to cyberspace.

That’s right, it’s all stuffed into my head.  The head of a physically nine year old kid.  Let me tell you, there’s not a lot of space in there.  Even with me not actively using my other-mind, it squeezes everything down to the smallest area.  And slows me down at the same time.  While my brain is adapted at easily being able to use both my real mind and my other-mind all at the same time, it wasn’t meant to just sit there and do nothing.

So being outside feels as if I have a boulder sitting on my head.  It makes my thoughts sluggish.  Thankfully my autonomic nervous system isn’t affected in the slightest.  Otherwise the doctors and others that I see on a somewhat regular basis would think that something was wrong, given all the drugs and crap they pump me full every chance they get.  As it is many just think I’m messed up in the head.

I’d know, cause I get to read their internal mail to each other.  All of it is done in the highest security, so almost none of the doctors or researchers or technicians have anything to do with each other physically.  All of their communications happen electronically.  Which I have access to while being plugged into the archology’s systems.  You could say it’s how I get my usual fix of gossip ever since I developed that nifty ability.

It is also how I’ve learned quite a bit about my own position here as well as the world outside.  While my virtual self is restricted to the set of rooms set up by the Minx Corporation to keep me contained and out of anyone’s eyes, my other-mind is able to reach far beyond that cause it is still based within cyberspace itself.  It would take too much money to set up a stand-alone system, even if it would be the most secure.  That’s my real saving grace, and where I acquired all of my hacking skills from.

At this point, I’ve been working on cracking the communications software of the arcology for about a week now.  Or at least I think it is a week.  I don’t have access to any sort of calendar outside of being informed when my birthday comes around; which is mainly for administrative purposes instead of my own convenience.  I had finally cracked the snooper security program yesterday before being taken away for another experiment earlier today.  I now have three days in which to finish my task and set my plans in motion.

That snooper program was set to actively view every incoming and outgoing communication pack of the arcology.  With it cracked, I can now slip unmonitored packets into the data stream, so long as I can cover up the extra bandwidth being used.  Which is easy, cause I’d already wrote the program to do so.  Installing it however is going to force me to crack yet another security program, and do so much more subtly than others because this one is actively being watched by security personnel.

Completely and utterly annoying, but also fun at the same time.  Breaking the rules here just gives me a thrill like nothing else.  Especially because I plan to utterly wreck everything Minx Corporation is trying to do.  In the long run I doubt it’d hurt the mega-corporation too badly, but I plan to make so much trouble for them that they are likely to implode from the inside.  It will hurt, and won’t be over quickly.

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That said, I get to work on the things I need to do, only coming out of cyberspace to eat my meals before diving back in.  To those monitoring my activities, they’d see that I’m going through a virtual learning program on a variety of subjects, because the monitoring program was one of the first I hacked.

It still irks me to think that the corporation was able to set up the monitoring program using the parental system put in place in Cyberspace for those under 16 years old.  Posing as my ‘guardians’ the corporation can legally monitor my activity, where otherwise it’d be completely against the law.  Cyberspace offers no such monitoring system outside of businesses and research ventures, for security purposes.  It completely protects the autonomy of all users otherwise.

Well, fuck them.  The law has done jack crap for me since the day I was born.  Soon enough though I will be using that very same law in order to do what I want to.  All it’ll take is a little more time.

Two Months Later…

Titan,

Saturn orbit,

Solar Defense Forces Station.

Tom Burkay was reading a report at his desk in the small room he uses as an office.  In truth, his position would normally grant him a larger personal space, but out here on what is still considered the fringes this was all that was available.  Which is made even more annoying because the entire station they were living in was being ‘rented’ to the SDF by another corporation.

Supposedly a purely SDF installation is in the works, but the last time Tom had heard anything about that was three years ago.  It likely never made it past the budget committee; along with a lot of things the SDF actually needs to do their job.  That’s politics and bureaucrats for you though, which is why Tom never bothered to go that route in his career.

Even today, Tom is one of the few with a passion of an olde timey policeman.  Believing in justice and the willingness to step on others toes to get the job done.  Which is why he landed this position to begin with.  Tom isn’t one for complaining much though.  He uses what he’s given and deals with it.

In the process he also keeps the entire station running along with its staff of 45,000 people and thirteen Viper-class search and rescue spaceships.  He also has four Scout-class destroyers he can call upon for heavy supports.  The destroyers are the smallest full warship produced, and are mainly used to dissuade pirates and other riffraft from going after the merchant shipping in the area around Saturn.

The SDF actually has several larger fleets around Jupiter which he can call upon for backup should anything exciting happen.  Which is almost never, and is just the way Tom himself likes it.  An old veteran of the Belt Wars a couple of decades ago, he doesn’t care to ever be facing down another warship ever again.  Sadly the same couldn’t be said to some of the hot-dog SDF officers he has to deal with on a daily basis here.

Most of them are misfits, or those that royally fucked up or stepped on someone's toes that they shouldn’t have.  Those that cannot be discharged often end up here, at the smallest speck on the SDF shit-pile.  That said, they are still Solar Defense Forces, and thus have the tech and the might to whip anyone else around; pirate or not.

Still, Lieutenant Commander Tom Burkay looks up when someone knocks on the faux-wood door to his office.  It’s his personal assistant, Lieutenant Ashcroft, who looks a bit bewildered at the data-pad she’s holding in her hand.  She completely fails to notice the slight glare in her commander’s eyes.

“Ah, excuse me, Sir.  But I thought you should see this ASAP.  It came in as an anonymous point-to-point data shot.  I had to look up where it came from.  It was bounced through several facilities before reaching us, but its start point came from Rhea, which supports what it says.”

Ashcroft finally looks up after telling Tom the news, and even she cannot help but notice the last of his glare fading into a look of curiosity.  Coming from the moon Rhea means that it came from Minx Corporation.  However Minx Corp would never send a message to SDF unless something was seriously wrong.  And never through a bouncing relay.  They’d send it through the omni-directional communication grid instead.

Which means that this wasn’t a standard communique.  It was clandestine.  Which meant that someone somewhere had a problem.

“Okay Ash, let me see it.”  Tom finally says after a moment of thinking it over, holding out his hand which is soon filled with the data pad.  Ashcroft looks quite relieved though, which causes Tom to raise his eyebrows, wondering just what was in this data that caused her to be so tense.

He doesn’t ask her though, and instead turns his eyes to read it for himself.  At first he starts skimming over it, but after the third or fourth line he stops and goes back to the top to re-read everything.  At the same time his assistant watches his face pale even as his free fist clenches.

‘Greetings Lt. Commander Burkay,

My name is Subject-01, and I’m a slave owned by Minx Corporation.  I’m also a Type 1 Esper, born to a pair of drones in the employ of Minx Corporation.  Tested as an infant, I was sold to the corporation who failed to report my birth to the Solar Defense Forces in order to keep my existence a secret.

Ever since I turned the age of three I’ve been used for a range of unethical and sometimes downright inhumane experiments for the corporation’s research and development department.  Medical, chemical, and weapons research.  Last years’ release of the procedure known as COLOReX was one of the successes their testing brought forth, which happened in all of six months of experimenting on me with the procedure and its various side effects.  As an Esper you know that my constitution is hardier than other peoples, which is why they could progress so quickly.

Unbeknownst to the corporation however I’ve already awakened my Esper ability, which is why I am now able to send this report along with its associated data files to you.  My ability is cyberspace based, which no one outside of your office knows of.  This is my sign of trust to you, because otherwise I would not mention this fact at all outside of verification purposes.

So please believe me when I tell you that everything I have said and everything you will read is the truth.  In fact, you’ll be able to find the Minx Corporation watermarks on all the data I’ve provided, cause I’ve copied it directly from the Minx Corporation Rhea Arcology mainframe directly.  The only things I have altered or tampered with where those records concerning my own identity outside of this message to you and Lt. Ashcroft.  No one else should know about who I am, or what my position inside the corporation is.  A single slip and I’ll be dead before anyone knew what had happened.

The program attached to this message is automated so that if anyone tries to read it outside of you two, then it will wipe automatically and send me a failure signal through the public cyberspace node on the FDS station.  Feel free to have your software analysts go over the program and its source code.  It is completely inactive otherwise, and has no countermeasures.

That said, I implore you to go over the information I have provided.  We both know that the corporations take a lot of SDF laws for granted this far out from ‘civilized’ space.  Just with the Minx Corporation, things are very bad.  Others are likely to be even worse.

In the end though, my entire reason for sending this is to get help.  I was NOT born a slave, and I do not like nor am I willing to remain in this living hell for the rest of my life.  A life the corporation is taking from me in chunks at a time.  Already I am so emancipated that I cannot live outside of my LivingPod without constant medical supervision and support.

In the meantime, I will continue to covertly send you data files pertaining to the corporation’s activities from the inside.  If asked where the information is coming from, feel free to report that you’ve been contacted by an inside man.  The security shuffle that comes from such a thing being reported to the Minx Corporation will allow me a window of greater access as I break their changing codes and security measures.  It’ll also hide other activities as well if I’m given warning beforehand.

To set up a more direct line of communication, leave a message on the Titan cyberspace hub titled to ‘S-01’ along with your contact details.  I will find it within a few days and message you privately from there.  Do note that I do not have direct cyberspace access, so my replies will not have a standard cyberspace address.  The corporation is using the guardianship laws to monitor my activities in the personal space they have me locked into, so all of my means are beyond the usual cyberspace programs and securities.

I thank you for reading, and for any potential help you might provide.

Yours Sincerely,

Subject-01.’

Tom is barely able to blink the red out of his eyes long enough to look at the time stamp on the data packet as well as how big it is.  It was posted on cyberspace some thirty seven minutes ago, and is some nineteen terabytes big.  The time difference is probably from Ashcroft doing the checks on it.

Tom finally drags his eyes up from the datapad and stares at Ashcroft for a moment as he tries to relax his cramped up facial muscles.  This was a way bigger thing than he’d ever imagined coming up against here out in the middle of nowhere.  It’s also an example of exactly why the SDF has a presence here, even though the entire combined population is under a billion people in the entire Saturn micro-system.

“... Guardianship laws.  That means whoever this message is from is a minor.”  Tom finally manages to say, looking down at the end of the message again before shaking his head.  “A god damned kid sent this to us.  Along with insider information into one of the biggest mega-corps around.  If even part of this is true, then things are going to heat up around here.”

Tom starts to mumble to himself, rubbing his eyes after setting the datapad down on his desk.  It almost seems to disappear on top of all the other datapads and other things littering the space.  In one way, it all seems too much to be true.  Tom however knows that it isn’t.  He’s seen too much of the crap that happens in the dark to be beguiled by wishful thinking.

Lt. Ashcroft though only shakes her head and bites her lip.  The message had specifically mentioned her, knowing that it would end up on her desk along with a lot of the other messages sent to Tom.  Whoever had sent it had known that she’d be the one to verify it before sending it on.  That sort of predictive behavior is scary, even more so the fact that the sender obviously did their homework before ever bothering to send it.

“If it really is from a kid, that kid is very smart, Sir.  I get the feeling that if they didn’t need the SDF, then they wouldn’t have bothered sending anything at all.  This personal message to the two of us was a courtesy call as much as anything else.”  Ashcroft finally says, looking just as distracted as her boss is.

“Yes, but they did the right thing.  The SDF is mainly seen as a military force, but we are also a police force.  If it doesn’t come to us, then there’s noone else around who can help.  Especially if this kid is an Esper.  SDF Laws are very strict and very severe where Espers are involved.”  Tom says, before reaching out and pulling up a note log on his desktop.  

He starts taking notes of pertinent information provided in the message.  Once done, he turns and taps the datapad, pulling up the menu and then deleting the message.  As soon as he does the datapads’ screen goes green, showing that the program that was monitoring it registered the deletion.

“Take this down for analysis.  Back it up first under my secure access account.  I don’t want a single byte to be missed, Ash.  I want everything but the murder and pirate cases suspended while the entire station is put to work going through this data.”

Tom’s orders act like a shock to Ashcroft, who soon returns a salute and takes the datapad that’s held out to her.  She holds it to her chest and turns right back around, heading toward her own desk to copy the entire memory crystal via a hardline to her own desk computer before carrying it down two levels to the analysis department.

From there, things get really heated up.  As the potentially biggest case the Saturn SDF has ever done, anyone who’s anyone in the station is drawn in to work on it.  In fact it draws so much attention locally that even those outside get curious after about two weeks or so.

By that time Tom Burkay has already gotten in personal contact with the mysterious Subject-01.  The tip that actually set off the Jupiter SDF office was arranged between them, because Burkay needed more information.  As much information as he could get.

And Subject-01 gave him as much as he could use in return.  Every other day or sometimes even daily a new data burst would come to rest in Burkay’s secure account, pertaining to just about anything and everything going on in the Minx Corporation Arcology inside Rhea.  Emails, research files, personnel data, schematics of the arcology station itself, security passcodes and even copies of whole programs Minx was using.  Stuff that would take a dedicated group of hackers to get, and only after months or even years.

Most of the data Tom receives is sent directly to the investigation teams he’d set up for analysis, but some things are kept close and personal.  Everyone knew that they were working on something that dealt with Minx Corporation, but no one knew really what it was or where all the data was coming from.  Thus when the higher-ups based out of Jupiter came by to find out what was going on, they too were given the ‘anonymous insider’ story.

A story they took hook, line, and sinker once they learned about all the dirty shit the corporation was doing while being hidden in Rhea.  Especially when a few rushed back to Jupiter to start pulling in both military and police assets.  This on its own tipped off Minx and other corporations that something was happening, and especially so when someone at Jupiter let it slip that Minx was the one under investigation.

Just as Subject-01 predicted, this caused a major shakeup of security in the arcology.  People were transferred to different apartments internally, security stepped up its gear and a few other specialists arrived to do their own internal investigation of the ‘leaks’.  Even Subject-01’s experimentations were put to a halt as anyone who was anyone within the station was put under a magnifying glass.

All but a nine year old boy who was left in his pod, and thus was in position to watch over everything that was going on.  As passcodes and security programs were changed or switched, he was there to slip into the cracks and get at data he hadn’t been able to spirit away before.  He was also able to slip in backdoors to systems that were normally stand-alone, like life support and internal security.  Those had to be changed directly through the mainframe, thus giving him the access to get into them before they were shunted off the network once more.

After that, it wasn’t just datafiles he was able to send to the FDS and Tom Burkay, but video and audio files from the security servers.  All of them matched against Minx personnel database entries.  It was a major break that caused almost every investigator working on the case to drool.  Never before and likely never again would they get access to such data.

It all came crashing to a halt though when Subject-01 reported that Minx Corporation had decided to shut down the arcology.  They were going to wipe everything, transfer anyone they could keep, and kill those they couldn’t.  Given that the message also came with the intercepted transmission from the Minx Corporation’s current CEO, it provided enough to get a SDF warrant to raid the facility before the arcology could proceed with the new orders.

Thus it was almost exactly eight months to the day since the first message was sent to the SDF that the entire solar system was shocked at the largest raid ever done by the SDF was mounted.  Not against a pirate group or a cartel or syndicate.  No, it was against one of the biggest corporations in the solar system.  An entity that many thought was all but untouchable.

Using the passcodes and schematics provided by their ‘inside man’, the SDF was able to breach the arcology with a minimum of fuss.  In fact, security had been all but disabled on the inside due to a timely message left by Tom Burkay to his informant only hours before the raid.  The fact that Lt. Commander Burkay was leading the raid also lead the way for their quicker access, due to the trust built up there.

Minx Corporate Security was taken totally by surprise, along with just about everyone else.  There had been no warning, no alarms.  Nothing.  All the automated systems that were supposed to prevent such a thing were completely silent and no one knew way until it was way too late.  Within an hour of the initial breach more than six thousand SDF officers and personnel were inside the arcology and were rounding up everyone.

All the while the local news agencies were watching from Rhea orbit, using cyberspace-controlled drones to videotape everything while a SDF Public Relations officer was there to comment and let out information that they could.  That was all external though, and showed nothing of the raid inside the underground facility itself.  Eighteen hours later, when it was all over, the news report was the most watched thing since the start of the Belt Wars several decades before.

Rhea,

Saturn orbit,

Minx Corporation Arcology.

I was watching it all.  I had been left in my pod for almost a week now, having been all but abandoned during that time.  I only came up to eat or to get some sleep, otherwise I was in my bed and thus neural-linked to cyberspace the entire time.  Through that, I was able to watch as the raid by the SDF unfolded.

By now I had every camera, sensor, and security system in the entire arcology under my control.  In fact, I controlled so many things that my other-mind was nearly stretched to its limit.  Which is amazing, if you really think about it.  My other-mind has yet to stop, or even slow its growth over these months.  The more I do with it, the more it continues to grow.

It’s gotten to the point where I’m nearly comatose if I’m not in cyberspace, actually.  It’s just so big that my brain no longer is able to contain it all.  I’ve been able to cope for simple things like eating or using the restroom facilities of my pod, but otherwise I’m nearly unable to do anything else.

That shouldn’t be a problem for too much longer though.  While I’m watching the raid progress, I’m also working out in cyberspace, setting up otherwise untraceable accounts and all but pirating the data from the Minx Corp at the same time.  Both corporate and personal data from the employees.  I know it is basic banditry, but it just feels so good to siphon every dollar they have.

In fact, I also hit the Minx accounts I’d managed to get access to over these months.  I have had the time to crack the passcodes and security measures on the corporate accounts, so I just transfer them all out in chunks.  In the confusion of the raid, no one is paying any attention, which allows me to cover the money and data transfers up before anyone is any the wiser.  It’s only when the analysts start looking through the accounts will they find that they are all empty.

I could almost imagine the looks on their faces.  In truth, a part of raids like this is confiscation, and is in fact part of how the SDF pays for itself.  Every pirate ship, station, or compound confiscated by the SDF is put on the market to the sold to the highest bidder, and every officer involved in that particular raid gets a cut of the profits.  Nice, clean, and simple.  Those involved in any sort of tip-off are also rewarded from the cut, depending upon how much help they provided.

Even without the funds in those accounts, just a cut from the sell of the arcology here is going to be quite a big windfall.  Which for a corporate drone or a slave in my case is rather massive.  Even at a 0.005 percent share, I’m still talking about a couple million dollars.  Enough for a family to move to Earth and live in a middle-class apartment for the rest of their lives.

All said though, this is just the cleanup phase of my time here.  I never expect to live in a corporate arcology ever again.  I’ll never work for a corporation either.  Tom Burkay has hinted at offering me a position in the SDF, and while I’m grateful, I’m not really that interested.

Hell, I’m not really that interested in living much more anyway.  I’ve never known any other life outside of these walls, both real and virtual.  Outside of getting free, I really have no other plans.  Most likely my next few years are going to be quite painful in and of themselves.  The SDF is likely to send me to a medical complex.  I’m hoping it’ll be one in orbit around Mars or Earth, personally.

Still, I help the SDF as best I can from inside the arcologies systems.  I even cheat a little by pinging their communications with information regarding Minx personnel or security positions and the like in order to speed up the process.  Forewarning allows them to proceed a lot faster and smoother than otherwise.

Although practiced, this sort of massive raid on an entire facility has only ever been hypothetical until now.  Pirates rarely have bases even half as large as the arcology here, and those corporations that tend to get raided are those on the smaller size; usually started with a tip-off from a bigger corporation they are trying to take a bite out of.  In this case it is all smooth sailing, with copious amounts of help from yours truly.

I don’t even give Minx Security the chance to respond, having locked down the four separate armories as well as all of the internal defense systems.  There’s no position monitoring, no defense turrets, no internal communications.  I’ve shut it all off and locked it all down.  The only things I haven’t done is closed the security bulkheads and outgassed the entire facility.  That’s about the limit of my mercy to my soon to be former captors.

Fifteen hours later and I ping Lt. Commander Tom Burkay’s com once he leads the forward team into the area of the arcology that houses my pod.  He accepts the communication after a moment, thinking its from another SDF group because I had to disguise it that way to get through the software that keeps wayward hackers from messing with the SDF comm gear.  I almost snicker to myself while I watch his reaction on a camera I have trained on him.

“Hello, Tom.  It’s quite nice to speak to you in somewhat person.”  The man all but jumps when the voice of a kid comes over his radio, and I do finally laugh out at the sight of him jerking.  At least I didn’t transmit my laughing.

“Sorry for the surprise, but I’ve been monitoring the SDF comm traffic since you guys breached the arcology.  I’m the one that’s been pinging your teams running around all over the place.”  I say, trying not to sound too smug about it.

“Ah, Subject-01?  About scared the shit out of me.  I knew that you were young, but hearing your voice for the first time was a surprise.”  Tom finally says, sounding just like he does on the few videos he’d sent me to relay personal messages before.  Tom also holds up a hand, stalling his team and motioning for them to fan out before making a sign signifying he’s on a call.  All neat and professional.

“That’d be me.  I don’t have a name that I know of, so my designation is the best I can do.  Also, sorry for the scare.”  I reply, although I highly doubt that I sound any sort of contrite.  Definitely not like any regular kid at any rate.

“Anyway, you’re coming up to where I’m housed in my LifePod, so I’d like to suggest you clear out the other rooms first.  I’ve already locked my room down with the security bulkheads, so you’d have to cut your way in otherwise.”

I cannot see Tom’s face due to the helmet he’s wearing, but I do see him nod; although rather or not it’s to me or him thinking I don’t know.  I get my answer only a moment later though.

“Alright.  According to reports most of the facility is taken anyway, so we’ll clear out this area and secure it as a relay and command station for the time being.”  Tom replies in a cool and professional manner, which I’m glad about.  I’ve seen what some of the hotheads here in the arcology do when given even a bit of power.

“Thank you.  Once the area is secure, please send for a medical team to come down on standby.  I’m stable for the moment, but my LifePod has been custom modded with extra medical equipment.  Once removed things are likely to get rather bad.  Also, I’m going to need a cyberjack implant rather quickly.”  I tell him, and this time I watch Tom twitch again.

Cyberjack implants are not new, but are rarely used for the simple fact that they are so expensive.  Implanted along and inside of the spinal column, they allow a direct and wireless connection to cyberspace, or a direct wired connection to any computer with an access port.  Having to all but remove the spinal column in order to install the implant means that any sort of complication will almost always cause death.  I really do need it though.

“My Esper ability has grown to such an extent that if I’m not connected to cyberspace, I’m no longer able to think or respond.  I become comatose.  As you can imagine, those that experimented on me here never did bother to find out why I was personally unresponsive, but I’d rather not be a vegetable now that I’m finally getting freed.”

I end up interrupting Tom before he could say anything or ask, but I can still hear a ‘whoosh’ of breath once he realizes why I’m asking for such a thing.  Even with my access to cyberspace and Minx Corp’s own internal records, I’ve personally never heard of another Esper with such an ability or drawback either, and I highly doubt Tom Burkay has as well.  Then I hear Tom chuckling a little.

“Alright, fair enough.  It’ll have to be paid for though, so I’m assuming you have money stashed away.”  Tom says after a moment, and I cannot help but chuckle to myself again.

“I do, but this will be coming from the tip-off percentage from the sell of the arcology.  I highly doubt the SDF is going to return the confiscated property to Minx Corporation, and with all the access codes I’m providing, you guy will have no trouble with collecting every single record and piece of data here.”

That much is true.  Already I’ve shut down a handful of attempts at purging the mainframe from Minx personnel who’ve made it to a terminal or computer.  With keeping a close personal watch over the systems, no one has been able to do anything more than open a door or turn on a light without my say-so.  Already SDF officers specializing in data collection are plugging into terminals in already secured areas, only to find them all unlocked and the access codes for other areas waiting for them.  Their inside man is doing a very good job from what their mutterings over the comms are saying.

“Fair enough.  I’ll need a full report on all the help you’ve provided though.  This is going to be a big case, and I won’t have the final say.”  Tom finally says, and admits.  I already knew that already, but at least he’s honest enough to try to skate by on it.

“No problem.  I’m already logging everything I’ve been doing since before I contacted you.  I’m not going to provide any personal information though, so what little you have you will have to provide once the investigation gets that far.  Then again, even I don’t know much.  I’ve never been able to find any records of what happened to my biological parents.”

Damn, was there even a bit of longing in my voice?  Malice?  Hate?  No.  My biological parents don’t really matter, and after so long I just don’t really are.  I’m not an orphan who was abandoned and left to wonder why.  I know exactly why my parents did what they did.  Greed.  Pure and simple greed.

“Alright.  I’ll get things rolling on my end.  Feel free to watch, Subject-01… And we’re going to have to find you a new name.”  Tom says, only pausing after saying my designation again.  This time I do laugh over the comm, shaking my head in my virtual room.

“Already ahead of you there, Lt. Commander Burkay.”  I tell him then, smiling to myself.

“I will to be known as Edwin Constantine Sin.”

Tom doesn’t say anything, although I watch him pull up notepad program on the wrist-computer of his armor.  He starts jotting down things rapidly using the fingers of one hand, but from this angle I cannot see the message myself.  I’m not able to access anything more than the comm system and life support readings from the armor either.  All the other systems are self-contained unless plugged into a terminal for diagnostics and repair.  That’s to keep the armor from being hacked or sabotaged.

“Alright Edwin.  I’m going to go and get this set up.  I imagine we’ll be meeting each other face to face here shortly.”  Tom finally says, just before he clicks off his comm channel with me and instead gets on the command band to start issuing orders.

From that point on, I’m all but a spectator as the SDF sweeps through the entirety of the arcology.

It’ll take several more hours to catch the last of the Minx personnel and secure everything else.  It’s only after that point that I raise the bulkheads to my room and allow the officers in.  Just like every other room, there’s nothing to separate mine from the others.  At least until I switch on a holographic screen set nearby that shows an image of the interior of my pod on one side and the virtual representation of myself, looking far healthier, on the other.

“Welcome, everyone.  As Lt. Commander Burkay and Lt. Ashcroft already know, I’m Subject-01 and the ‘inside man’ that lead to this raid.  I apologize for not being able to greet you in person.  After this point though, I hope that you all will just call me Edwin.  Edwin Sin…”