Code Breakers: Beta Read online

“What? He uploaded his brain?”

  Robertson nodded. “The very first one to do it, and as far as I know the last.”

  “What happened?” Petal asked, eager to know what happened to Robertson’s grandfather.

  “It worked, and the Cataclysm happened. Once he became, I don’t know what the term is really, but once he became a computer entity, his mind cracked, went mad, but he was inside the world’s networks by then. He effectively took over The Family, turning them from an environmental company to a transhuman company. You see; he couldn’t replicate what happened to him. Not successfully.

  “The servers were decoupled after the Cataclysm and taken to various parts of the land. Elliot, now in binary format, existed within The Family’s servers. With their scientists, they setup their transhuman program and started their experiments, including the building of the Dome, which is essentially a giant lab.”

  “This is all so much,” Petal said. “You’re saying that you, and I, are related to the one who instigated the Cataclysm? That’s really messed up.”

  “That’s not the end of the story,” Robertson said. “Elliot went insane as a binary being, and the board members of The Family, rich off his technology and insight, found it difficult to control him. So they tried to suspend him, keep him firewalled, which they achieved for a while, but not having that genius level intellect on tap they began to slow down the pace of their technological advances.

  “They referred to Elliot as the Patriarch. A group of ambitious scientists within The Family decided that since he was essentially a digital life form, they’d make a copy for their own use. They thought they could re-engineer this copy, and so they called it the Matriarch.

  “Much like Elliot, this entity wasn’t what they expected. It refused to do what they wanted and released Elliot from his digital prison.

  “The last I heard, the Matriarch had been debugged and is now in use up in their space station, while Elliot is out there somewhere.”

  “Where?” Petal asked.

  Robertson shrugged. “Who knows? He could be in a network, a server, anywhere. All we know is that he’s incredibly dangerous and not a little deranged. It’s why I made you and the others. To seek him and the servers out, keep them away from harm, and if possible recover them back here at Criborg so I can study them, reverse engineer them. Find a way of ending Elliot for good.”

  “So that’s why I can hold AIs within me?”

  “Yes. You were designed to be a temporary prison so that you could hold Elliot’s consciousness inside until you could get to the Old Grey servers.”

  “So then what happened? I remember being in a desert, but nothing before that.”

  Robertson swallowed. “That’s when I lost you.”

  “Lost me how?”

  “You had a lead on Elliot. You were en-route when you came across a resistance group. One of The Family’s experiments went wrong, set up on his own: a brilliant hacker. A descendent of one The Family’s earlier posthuman projects—”

  “Seca,” Petal said clutching her hands. “That must have been him!”

  “We never knew his name,” Robertson said. “We lost you before you could deliver a report. We were in full communication when you came across a bunker, the location of this hacker. You said you had found Elliot and were preparing the download, but something went wrong, and I lost contact. I couldn’t find you anywhere. Not even the Meshwork. Our VPN was fried. It was like you stopped existing. I thought—”

  “You thought Elliot or Seca had killed me?”

  Robertson dropped his chin. “Yes. I wanted to come and find you but we didn’t have the resources. The Family didn’t know we were still here, and I couldn’t afford to blow our cover. But I wanted to.” He stepped forward, held out his arms to grip by the shoulders.

  She wanted to push him away, but she could see the guilt and sincerity in his eyes.

  “I understand,” she finally said, not entirely believing it. His story sounded reasonable, and yet, if she really meant that much to him, he would have found a way.

  “That’s why I created Sasha, you know?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Whereas you were always the computer type, she was the martial type. I couldn’t live with the guilt or the knowledge of what might have happened to you, so I trained Sasha to come and find you, but—”

  “You couldn’t bring yourself to lose another daughter?”

  Tears dripped from his eyes, slid over his cheeks, splashed on the tiled floor. He shook his head before turning away to regard the tubes with the bodies floating inside.

  “I’m so sorry. I was impotent with grief. Trapped in this damned compound, with hundreds of lives at risk, and with the General breathing down my neck. Sasha was the only thing that kept me sane. For a while she helped me forget my first daughter, and what happened to you. She was the only connection I had to you, I just couldn’t.”

  Petal felt her own tears stream from her face now. All thoughts of anger had subsided at the sight of this giant of a man breakdown in front of her. She tried to put herself in his position and immediately felt the waves of loneliness and grief that he must have faced.

  She stepped forward beside him, placed her hand on his arm.

  “It’s okay,” she said in a whisper, her throat tight. “I’m back now. I survived.”

  Robertson turned to her, and with a heavy sob, pulled her into his arms, hugging her tight, while his body racked with relief, and a million other emotions.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said as he finally released her from his bear hug.

  “We’re all sorry,” she said. “What matters now is what’s next? As you said, we can’t stay hidden forever, and what with being spotted by The Family’s drones while out there in the sub, it probably won’t be long before we’re discovered. And I have a friend I need to find.”

  “You’re incredible,” Robertson said after wiping his face with the sleeve of his lab coat. “Even after all this, you’re still wanting to fight.”

  “It’s what you created me for, right?”

  “Amongst other things, yes, I suppose so.”

  “Well then, Doc, you need to fix my implants, then tell me what kind of weapons we have at our disposal.”

  “I can do that. Come with me,” Robertson said, striding towards the door.

  Petal followed, and within a few minutes they raced back to her medical room, with Robertson enthusiastically spewing technical details about her DNA, what she could do, and a whole bunch of inventions he had that he needed help with.

  When they arrived back, Petal saw Sasha sitting on her bed. She jumped when Petal opened the door.

  “Oh, hey. Just the people I’ve come to see,” Sasha said, her smile stretching across her face. “We have a problem.”

  Chapter 23

  From the Jaguar came a burst of machine-gun fire. Each shell crashed into the tower, transmuting stone and concrete to dust, creating a matrix of holes in the back wall of the room.

  From his slumped position in the corner, Gerry watched as a number of shells ricocheted off the obsidian-coloured server with a spark of blue light. A scream peeled out over the cacophony of those terrible guns. One of the half-masked men fell to the floor clutching his knee, below which a pulpy red and pink bone-shattered shin hung from tendons.

  Liza-Marie roared in fury from her position behind the server. She reached down to her fallen compatriot, took his laser pistol and in a display of unthinking rage, stood up amidst the barrage, and fired two shots before ducking for cover.

  The enemy aircraft pitched to the right in a sudden movement, bringing it into Gerry’s full field of vision. Two small holes punctured the blood-spattered windshield. The Jaguar continued to pitch to the right, the guns spewing a stream of shells up the tower and in a wide, dipping arc. And then it fell. Fanatics and Darkhan citizens alike ran from its trajectory like panicked ants as it headed for them.

  Gerry stood, moved closer to the window, watched
as the rotors hit the ground first, splintering and firing off at all angles. The shrapnel caught a number of Red Widow members, sending them sprawling to the ground, holding various damaged parts of their bodies. Small pools of blood spotted the landscape.

  The Jaguar smashed into the ground roof-first with a terrible crash and the sound of rending metal. For a few seconds it spun round on what was left of the VTOL rotors: the tail first sweeping into a group of panicked people and then crashing against the tower and splitting into two.

  The dozens of Red Widow fighters on the bridge stopped and looked on at the carnage, as one surged forward, screaming and yelling with hate and fury.

  “Now that was a great shot,” Gerry said looking back at Liza-Marie who now stood from behind the server. He couldn’t gauge her expression behind the mask. She nodded at him, attended to her fallen ally. He no longer moved. Gerry suspected the shock and sudden loss of blood had finished him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, not knowing what else to do for her.

  She hunched over the body of the man while her other compatriot calmly placed a trolley under the black server, leaned it back lifting it off the floor and wheeled it out of the room. Before he left he looked back at his leader and said. “We have to grieve later. We need to go now.”

  She closed her eyes, shook her head. “You go on. Gerry, you go with them. Get ‘em out of here. I’ll be with you in a short while.”

  Gerry grabbed her by the shoulder. “You don’t have a while, short or not. If you stay here, you’ll die too. Now come on.”

  He pulled her up, ignored her weak slaps and the tears that fell from her eyes, and dragged her from the room as rifle shots peppered the tower.

  Pietor, in the other room, leant low on one knee by the window, the riflescope to his eye and fired down at the Widows. With each pop a Widow fell to the ground. It was initially enough to keep them at a distance: not knowing how many snipers were in the building slowed their first charge.

  “I’ll hold them,” Pietor said. “You get to the rear elevator shaft.”

  A shot from a fanatic whined past Pietor’s head and crashed into the wall behind him, making Gerry and Liza-Marie duck. Ghanus, her compatriot with the server, had already wheeled it out into the corridor.

  “Come on!” Ghanus shouted, his voice echoing down the tomb-like hallways. Wasting no time, Gerry rushed through the door, urging Liza-Marie along with him. He had to sprint to keep up with Ghanus as the eager Upsider led them towards the rear of the building.

  “I thought the elevator was damaged,” Gerry called out.

  “We rigged something up on the emergency shaft,” Liza-Marie finally said, her voice croaking and shaky but regaining some of its energy. Hopefully it meant she would be focused.

  While Gerry followed the Upsiders to their escape shaft, he contacted Malik and the others over his VPN, using Mags to translate his thoughts to text.

  — Malik, it’s me Gerry. We’ve got a problem. I need you to get Enna or Gabe to bring the truck to my location right now.

  — Where are you? Malik said.

  Gerry sent him the location and a visual map of the tower over the VPN.

  — You’ll have to come round the back. The bridge is held by the Red Widows. And get everyone armed ready to fight. They’re closing in on our location.

  — Got you, Gerry. Hold tight, we’re on the way.

  ***

  The old elevator shaft, although having no working elevator, still had its cables in place. Using a rope sling as a pulley, they lowered the server and descended to the ground floor of the tower. Gerry had to use his night-vision upgrades to help navigate their way to the escape doors that led out to the street that ran parallel to the bridge.

  He scanned the area, couldn’t pick up any IP or radio traffic. And yet as they approached the rear doors he couldn’t quite get rid of the image of an army of fanatical fighters waiting on the other side.

  “After three,” Gerry said. “I’ll open the doors and we keep to the sides. Just in case.”

  Liza-Marie and Ghanus nodded, their half-masks shaking. They moved into the shadows, waited. Gerry approached the old, rusted metal doors. For a moment he wondered if they’d even open. Had the hinges rusted so badly as to fuse the hinge and pins together?

  He pushed down on the safety bar, felt a satisfying clunk from the mechanism. With his breath held, and his senses alert, Gerry pushed the door open a crack, felt the cool air waft in. He peered through the gap; saw nothing but a bundle of trash and old paper piled up in a narrow alley. A number of small, flat-roofed warehouses, empty, and half collapsed stood on the other side of the alley

  Nothing stirred beyond: no high-pitched, hysterical voice of a Red Widow called out, just the background noise of the shooting from the other side of the tower. The concrete and stone structure buffered the sound, making it appear as if it came from somewhere far off.

  As he pushed the door further open it jammed against something. Gerry slipped through the gap, assessed both sides. A few bedraggled Darkhans ran down the alley, trying to get clear of the war zone, but no one else followed. On the ground, and in front of the door, was the source of the blockage: a round pile of rags, covered in old paper, cardboard, and bits of wood. It yelped when Gerry tried to clear it away.

  “Ow!” it said pushing Gerry away. The old papers and rags fell to the ground. A dirty, but familiar, face looked up at him. The girl on the wheeled board!

  “Hey, it’s you,” he said, unable to think of anything more erudite. “What are you doing here? Are you following me?”

  “No,” she said. “I just listen. I heard the man in the box when you found him.” She smiled, a satisfied ‘I told you’ kind of smile. Her gaunt cheeks dimpled, and despite her condition her eyes shone bright, as if lit from some inner force.

  “Who are you?” Gerry asked. “What are you?”

  “I’m Jess,” she said. “I’m just me.”

  “Huh. Well, that’s not very clear. How do you hear these things? What is it that you hear?”

  She shrugged, gave him another wide grin. “Dunno, just do. I used to hear much more. It’s much more quiet now.”

  He realised she meant the Meshwork. She must have some kind of inner receiver that picks up on data. “You’re a strange one, aren’t you? Listen, you shouldn’t stay here. Do you have any parents or guardians?”

  She dropped her chin, shook her head. “No one. Mom and Dad died.”

  “Well, we can’t stand around, we’re under attack. Do you have anywhere safe to go?”

  She shrugged, moved herself out the way of the door.

  Worried about the Red Widows catching them, Gerry pulled the door open. From behind him stepped Liza-Marie and Ghanus. Gerry received a message from Malik.

  — On route, Gerry. ETA: two minutes. The place is crawling with Red Widows. They’ve got a whole army in this place, all on the bridge side. You better be ready to jump in and go, otherwise we’re gonna get caught in the middle of it all.

  — We’re in the access alley behind the tower. Be quick!

  Gerry didn’t want to stand out in the open like this, all it would take would be a single Red Widow fighter to spot them and call it in. The fact they were storming the front, probably meant they were already on their way around to secure the street. Pietor would have to hold them off for a little while longer. Even as he thought that, he heard the familiar whine of a UAV drone coming from behind the tower.

  “Back inside, now,” Gerry ordered.

  He grabbed the girl and pulled her into the darkness of the tower.

  “Let me go!” the girl said, batting against Gerry as he dragged her in and pulled the doors close behind him. He could hear the rifle shots getting louder now. He thought of Pietor stuck up on the floor, taking out the fanatics one at a time. It’d be like throwing pebbles at the tide in order to hold it back. Gerry moved the girl beside the doors. “Be real quiet, you understand?” he said to Jess.

  She
understood, instantly closed her mouth, and sunk onto her board.

  Gerry turned to Liza-Marie standing on the other side of the door with Ghanus. Both of them stood with their backs to the wall and laser pistols trained on the open elevator shaft.

  “Transport will be here in a minute,” he whispered.

  “That’s if we last that long,” Liza-Marie replied with a breathy, tense tone.

  The clanging of metal cables echoed down the shaft. Someone was coming down. “You be very still and quiet,” he said to the girl, who nodded, her eyes wide and wet. She stunk like rotting vegetables. If she didn’t give them away by speaking she’d probably do it with the stench.

  Gerry took the shotgun from his back, checked the ammo: three shots left. Using his stealth protocol, he dashed from the doors to stand with his back against the wall by the left-hand side of the open elevator shaft.

  The noises increased in volume. Someone was definitely coming down. It must be Pietor, he thought as he gripped the cold graphene-steel of the shotgun ever tighter. He spotted a pair of black boots wrapped around the steel cables. As the person descended Gerry tried to remember if that’s what Pietor wore. It must be, he was all in black. Even the trousers were black.

  Gerry loosened the grip on the gun and breathed out. He was being paranoid. Of course it was Pietor. He turned his head to the others to indicate to them that it was their compatriot when he heard the thump on the ground. He turned to see if he was okay. Gerry’s eyes grew wide as he looked into the surprised face of a Red Widow fighter. For a long second they both stared at each other, paralysed and startled. But Gerry’s mind worked faster. How could he have been so lax?

  Before the woman could react, Gerry shifted the weight on to his left foot, swung his right hip round as he lifted the butt of the gun in front of him. He connected with her chin. The force of the blow sent her crashing back into the shaft. She collapsed, unconscious before she even hit the ground. Her shotgun clattered to her side.

  Gerry quickly grabbed it and strapped it to his back with the other gun. He lent beside her, noticed a communication bud within her ear. He took it out and stamped on it so the signal couldn’t give away her location.