Shattered Minds Page 23

  If she’s gone, she won’t feel that inevitable disappointment when, even confronted with cold, hard facts, people try to make excuses for what Sudice have done. The apologists will come out in full force, or people will pretend their support of the company didn’t directly lead to this being possible. Maybe it’s better not to be around for that.

  Carina blinks. She’s recently found the thought of living not so bad, and now she’s back to thinking impassively of death. She clenches her hands into fists again, the fingernails digging into the soft flesh of her palms, grounding her. The Zeal is already getting to her, dragging her back into those dark spirals of thoughts when the withdrawal wraps around her.

  ‘Do we have a definite way to get to the server?’ she asks, trying to distract herself from her humming body. ‘That place is a fortress.’ She remembers the specs. The San Francisco office is huge, and the Los Angeles one is not much smaller, especially when you consider the recently added floating offices. There are security bots that run Wasp AIs, VeriChip checkpoints on every floor and at every door, including elevators. There are also Wasps within the servers if anyone tries to access the system from inside. Raf’s Viper might be able to mitigate those. Not many human guards, though – why have fallible humans susceptible to bribes, when you can have perfect, Sudice-made machines? Unless Pythia works, and Roz can mould loyal employees to her will.

  Raf smiles. ‘We’ll find a way. Every safe can be cracked. Every castle can be stormed. No one else has been stupid enough to go after Sudice like this. Physical breaking and entering is so last century.’

  Carina manages something resembling a smile and heaves herself off the chair. ‘By all means, continue the plan for storming the castle. But my head is killing me. I’ll go check on Dax in the kitchen, maybe see if he has anything for it, then go lie down.’

  Charlie and Raf murmur their goodbyes, but their eyes are sharp. They know she took Zeal. Surely they can see how she’s unravelling.

  Carina walks into the kitchen. Dax already has the tray loaded with drinks. He takes one look at her. ‘You need another pill.’ He takes it from his pocket, hands it to her. Always prepared.

  She swallows it dry. ‘I’m not the one who’s just made a daring getaway from the hospital after being shot.’

  ‘True,’ he says. ‘I was very daring.’ He flashes her a smile that makes the world seem to tilt beneath her. Carina takes her mug and sits at the table, staring into its milky depths.

  Dax takes the other drinks through and returns a few moments later. An apology for the kiss is on her lips, but she can’t feel sorry for it. In many ways, it had been her first real kiss, Zeal afterglow or not. One she’d wanted, rather than simply accepted and endured. Just a kiss. Yet so much more.

  ‘You OK?’ he asks.

  ‘The pill’s helping, but I have a migraine.’

  ‘I’m not surprised, with what you’ve just had shoved into your head. That’d have killed most people.’

  ‘Mm.’

  Dax leads her back to his room. His movements are slow. ‘How are you feeling?’ she asks him. ‘I mean, really?’

  ‘Not that bad, actually. The doctors at the hospital did a good job patching me up, but running at top speed to escape the hospital wasn’t really ideal for still-healing muscles. In a few days, I should be back to normal. I have some headaches, though not as bad as yours, I’m guessing.’

  ‘That’s good.’ The pain of the migraine rises again, drowning out thought. She groans.

  ‘Lie down in my room and I’ll get you something for it.’

  ‘Thank you, doctor.’ She’s not been in his room before, but she’s in too much pain to investigate. She crawls under the covers, not even bothering to take off her slippers. She lies down, eyes shut. Dax dims the lights to spare her eyes and she hears him rummaging through his medicine bag.

  He asks her questions about her symptoms and she gives quick, terse replies. On hearing her vision is affected, he places small electrodes on her head. They tingle.

  ‘Are you shocking me?’ she asks.

  ‘It’s just TMS. Less invasive than intense painkillers. You don’t need more drugs in your system if we can treat it another way.’

  Electrodes remind her of so many things. She used them to plug into the Zealscape, placing the rounds on her skin to hear Mark’s last message. She used them on her subjects at Sudice. She attached them to her skin before slipping into VR at the silo, resulting in Wasp attacks, her killing and Dax nearly dying. Used electrodes to transfer Mark’s information to the Trust’s servers. Electrodes have caused her so much pleasure and pain.

  The tingling against her skin does soothe the static of her mind, chasing away the tension and anxiety. Dax brushes a lock of hair away from her forehead when it falls too close to an electrode. She startles.

  ‘Sorry,’ he says. She’s not sure if he’s apologizing for startling her or for pulling away from that kiss.

  ‘I never choose to touch people usually,’ Carina says. It’s not an accusation, but an explanation. ‘Before, it seemed useless. After, it felt like too much. Like I can’t hold myself together so close to someone else.’ She lies there, muscles stiff again, the electricity irritating rather than calming. Tentatively, she asks. ‘Could you do that again?’ She regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth.

  She’s certain he’ll turn her down, but instead, he moves closer. His fingertips dance gently over her scalp, then slide lower to knead at the stiff muscles of her neck and upper shoulders. Her eyes close. After a time, his hands move back to her hair, gently removing the electrodes. While she dozes, not quite asleep and not quite awake, Dax strokes his fingers through her hair. It’s the most comforting thing she’s felt in years. Maybe, even, in her entire life.

  THIRTY FOUR

  CARINA

  The Trust headquarters, Los Angeles, California, Pacifica

  Carina wakes up in Dax’s bed, confused. Dax sleeps in the armchair, curled up on his side, legs against his chest and arms loosely around his knees. His face is relaxed, open. Vulnerable. Her hunter instincts rise – he would be so easy to surprise, to take. More deliberately than she ever has before, she pushes those thoughts away. Dax is not prey.

  Carina’s headache is gone. It’s evening, the time she should be thinking about settling down to sleep, but now she’s wide awake. They slept through dinner. She wonders what the others must have thought.

  Carina stretches, deciding Dax’s bed is far more comfortable than hers. She hasn’t felt so well rested in years. She investigates his room. It’s tidy, but personalized. He has a beadwork medallion necklace hanging over his bed. She wonders if it was his sister’s. Carved redwood figurines of animals line the shelves. There are no holographic images of his family, though. It takes her a moment to realize why: if this place is ever compromised, why telegraph images of your loved ones to whoever breaks in?

  Dax shifts in his chair, his features wrinkling. Should she wake him or let him sleep?

  One of his legs falls from the chair, then spasms. He grimaces, his eyes pressing together tightly. His muscles jerk in a way that’s disturbingly familiar. Her mental alarm bells sound.

  ‘Dax,’ Carina says. ‘Dax, wake up.’

  His eyes snap open. He blinks rapidly, but his eyes are clear. ‘We . . . fell asleep.’

  ‘Do you feel all right?’

  ‘I feel fine.’

  She frowns, but lets it go. His muscles have calmed. Perhaps it was only a bad dream.

  They leave the room. Carina is the hungriest she’s been in ages. Dax orders mac and cheese with sliced hot dogs for both of them. He says it was his favourite comfort food growing up, and Carina practically inhales it. She still watches Dax closely. The skin below his left eye twitches, once, then stops.

  ‘Dax,’ she tries. ‘Can I double-check something with you?’

  ‘Check what?’

  ‘When you were sleeping, you started twitching. Has that ever happened to you before?’<
br />
  He frowns. ‘No. Not as far as I know, anyway. No one I’ve shared my bed with accused me of kicking.’ He gives her a half-smile.

  She stays serious. ‘How long have you been having headaches?’

  ‘Ever since the hospital.’

  ‘Upset stomach?’

  He frowns. ‘A little.’

  ‘That’s what I thought. Let’s get you into that Chair, then.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Just trust me. Please.’

  ‘OK.’ He leaves the rest of his food. He stands, stumbles, his eyes unfocusing.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  He tries to speak. Can’t form the words. Aphasia.

  ‘Shit.’ She grabs him, leading him out of the kitchen. He keeps stumbling, closing his eyes against the dizziness he must feel.

  The Trust are still awake in the lounge.

  Carina strides through, and they watch her. ‘What’s going on?’ Charlie asks.

  Carina doesn’t answer. ‘She wants . . . to check something,’ Dax manages to say, his voice slurred.

  ‘Check what?’ Charlie asks. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Just trust me,’ Carina repeats. Her heart hammers in her throat. ‘Open up the room with the Chair.’

  Charlie and Raf follow, and Raf opens the door. ‘I’ve changed the codes,’ he said. ‘You won’t be getting back in here without me.’

  ‘Fine,’ she says, though the addict part of her mind wants to snap at him.

  She straps Dax in, working quickly. His arms and legs are twitching again.

  ‘I want to know what you’re doing to Dax,’ Charlie says.

  ‘I think Dax is exhibiting early signs of a stroke.’

  ‘I could check myself over,’ Dax says. ‘I am . . . a doctor.’ He’s speaking as though his tongue is swollen.

  ‘I have more experience with the brain than you. Do you have a recent brain scan stored on the servers?’

  He thinks. ‘S-s-six . . . months ago.’ He pauses as she accesses his implants, and then projects the scan above their heads. Carina’s face tilts as she examines it, memorizing its shape and the locations of the implants. ‘OK. That seems normal. Lie back. I’m going to take another.’

  ‘But what—’ Raf starts.

  ‘Shut up,’ Carina snaps. ‘Let me work.’

  ‘You like to kill people. And we all saw how you were in the hovercar. You almost turned against us.’

  The room falls silent.

  Carina pauses in her prep. Charlie and Raf both seem suspicious. The tension grows.

  Dax opens his mouth, but words have fled again. Not a good sign.

  ‘She wanted to kill you on the way to the hospital, Dax,’ Raf says. ‘She might have tried if Kivon hadn’t tied her up. He’s worried about her presence here. We all saw it, and it’s hard to pretend we didn’t. What’s to stop you from simply frying his implants? Isn’t that what you did to your subjects at Sudice?’

  ‘Dax’s are going to fry of their own accord if you don’t let me do my job,’ Carina says. They look stricken. ‘If I was going to kill any of you, you’d all be dead by now. Starting to reconsider you, though.’ She narrows her eyes at Raf, and blood drains from his face. Carina gives him a brilliant smile. ‘Joke!’

  Dax lies back. ‘Not . . . funny. Go. Trust . . . you.’

  No one else says a word. Carina starts the scan.

  Dax’s new brain map appears above them, overlaying across the old one. Everyone gives a quick inhale. Dax opens his eyes.

  ‘M-my . . .’

  ‘Your implants have doubled because,’ Carina says, slowly, ‘someone put extra ones in.’

  Complete silence in the room.

  ‘You’ve been turned into a sleeper agent. My guess is for Sudice.’ She crouches in front of Dax, glaring into his eyes. ‘Hello, Roz.’

  Dax’s eyes widen. ‘I’m . . . n-not a spy.’ His breath catches. He looks around at them, pleadingly. Carina wonders if he’s thinking of Tam, and how he’d been afraid she’d given up information that resulted in her coma.

  ‘We know you’re not a spy,’ Charlie says. ‘Not willingly. Jesus Christ. Has she changed his personality, too?’

  Carina shakes her head. ‘No evidence, and that would take too long. She would have had to be there herself. The implants were injected when he was unconscious.’

  ‘What do we do? How long has this been happening?’ Carina sees the gears in Charlie’s head turning. How much have they said in front of Dax? Is their entire plan blown?

  Dax swallows, shakes his head from side to side.

  ‘The hospital. At least, I think so.’ Carina checks his vital signs. So far they’re fairly stable, considering the amount of impetus his brain is getting.

  ‘Two days. It has to be. Otherwise I guess it’d be months ago.’ Charlie bites her lip.

  ‘Or someone else within the Trust did it,’ Carina forces herself to say. Raf looks at her. ‘It wasn’t me, for the last time. I’m the one who pointed it out.’

  ‘Cut it out, Raf. It wasn’t any of us. It had to have been at the hospital,’ Charlie says.

  ‘I’m inclined to agree,’ Carina says. ‘The implants look like they’re rejecting. And if they’d put them in months ago, they’d be stable, and Sudice would have already nabbed us long before the silo. One well-placed bribe at the hospital, though, it’s comparatively easy.’

  Dax shivers. Tears fall down his cheeks, but he doesn’t sob. Carina can’t imagine what he must be feeling. Someone hacked into his brain without his knowledge. Violation of the highest degree. ‘F-fix,’ he says, staring at her, unblinking.

  ‘I will. I promise. I’ll have to put you under.’

  He takes a steadying breath. Manages to give a jerky nod.

  Before she inserts the needle, Carina looks deep into Dax’s eyes. ‘I’m going to kill you for this, Roz Elliot. Really fucking slowly and painfully.’ Dax’s eyes narrow in satisfaction. I’ll help, is what he would say if he could, but the aphasia is growing worse.

  Carina sends him under.

  ‘OK. We need to get out of here five minutes ago,’ Charlie says.

  ‘We should operate now,’ Carina protests.

  ‘No. If they’ve latched onto his implants, they’ll probably have put a tracking device in him, too. They’re coming. Raf, grab the essential kit. I’ll carry Dax and start up the hovercar. Carina, come with me. Raf, you’ll start scanning Dax for tracking devices as soon as we move out.’

  ‘We should check no one else has been compromised either. Everyone needs a brain scan once we’re in the hovercar,’ Carina says. ‘Check me, too.’

  ‘Right. OK.’

  Raf rushes back to them, arms full of metal.

  ‘Let’s move out!’ Charlie calls. Raf, Charlie – holding Dax – and Carina all pause at the door of the garage. They realize at the same time that they’re leaving these headquarters and not coming back. Carina will take nothing with her, just as she arrived. Charlie dims the lights.

  ‘Goodbye, Technodrome,’ Raf says.

  ‘Maybe we can come back again,’ Carina tries.

  ‘Maybe,’ Charlie echoes, but they all know it’s a lie.

  They’ve put Dax in the back partition of the hovercar, on the long padded bench seats, wrapped in a sensory deprivation helmet Raf remembers they have. Just in case Sudice can still access his implants when he’s unconscious.

  The hovercar rises above the Los Angeles skyscrapers. It’s still full night, a few stubborn stars shining through the clouds. Below them, the world is a lit mosaic. She wonders which lights are grimy Zeal lounges. A few dozen in a city of millions. So many people below, living their lives, not knowing their very autonomy is at stake. Some of them might even welcome it. Ignorance is bliss.

  Raf has scanned for tracking devices and finds none, on them or within the hovercar. Sudice must have thought the extra implants would be enough. They all take brain scans, but their implants seem unchanged. One small relief.

  T
hey fly higher, leaving the other hovercars behind. The dashboard beeps as they cross the Hollywood hills. A calm, robotic female voice says, ‘Proximity warning.’

  Charlie keys in a sequence on the control panel and sends it out to the sky. The hovercar pauses, engines near silent. Carina looks down through the wisps of clouds. They’re almost directly above the Hollywood sign, and the rest of Hollywood is laid below them in another glittering tapestry. Carina feels something resembling a smile cross her face as she realizes where they’re going.

  A few people live up here in the Apex, among the clouds. The crème de la crème of celebrities. It only opened a few years ago, when technology allowed the creation of floating mansions. The elite did not hesitate to move in and design their own palaces. Passing this invisible sky gate to their floating neighbourhood is harder than getting into the most exclusive gated community on the ground. The only people who live here have a social ranking within the top three hundred. To compare, Carina’s ranking is somewhere in the thirty-eight millions, not that she cares.

  ‘Friends in high places, Charlie?’ she asks.

  Charlie flashes her a smile. The control panel beeps. ‘Proceed,’ the robotic woman instructs.

  They fly through, the force field temporarily lifted. All the floating mansions are miles apart, glowing softly through the clouds. Every one they pass seems to defy belief. One seems to be a futuristic fairy-tale castle of ice, crystal and chrome. Another is low and long, black and red, the perfect evil villain’s stronghold. Another looks like a jungle tree house and another like a strangely luxurious army bunker, complete with a full submarine out front. The sky is the limit, here.

  Charlie navigates between the houses. Carina’s stomach drops as she remembers something. ‘Charlie, doesn’t Alex Mantel live here?’ She remembers reading an article complaining about it – he was the only non-entertainment celebrity up here.

  Raf hisses as he inhales.

  ‘He used to,’ Charlie says. ‘Moved out a few years ago. Lives in an even more exclusive patch of sky all his own.’

  ‘He’d still have access to get in, though?’ Carina asks.