Terminal Connection (10 page)

The woman paused briefly as the program checked its database. “Yes. I will send you there now.”

Steve faded into a new scene. A loud party materialized around him. He was in a large room with no walls, open to the night air with balconies at periodic intervals. He looked up. The ceiling levitated ten feet above the floor. Around him people in formal attire danced. He looked down and noticed his body had been dressed for the occasion; a long red dress adorned with many sequins covered his female form. Steve threaded his way through the crowd looking for Syzygy.

Click.

The sound sent a cold chill down his spine. Syzygy had attempted to crash his Nexus’ V-chip software. He was close.

Steve scanned the faces around him.
There!
He recognized Syzygy from the still image in the Core File. Steve touched his earring. “Allison, start the trace.”

“Okay, done.”

Steve smiled. In two, maybe three minutes, they would find the bastard.

“I’m Syzygy.”

“Oh, hello. I’m … I’m Brooke.”

“The front desk said you wanted to see me. Why?”

“I saw your signature while I was browsing to see who was online. Your alias sounded interesting.” Steve batted his eyes. He hoped it had worked.

Syzygy shrugged and took Steve’s hand. Steve fought the urge to pull away. He let Syzygy lead him to a balcony.

Steve looked over into a spiraling image of the Milky Way. “It’s beautiful!”

Syzygy stared into the void.

Steve twisted his left earring. “Allison, do you have him?”

Syzygy turned and faced him. “Who’s Allison?”

“Uh, no one, I’m just mumbling. I’m nervous.”

Syzygy shrugged and gazed at the spiraling stars.

He bought it!
Fear replaced relief. Syzygy had heard the conversation, but how? It was a direct and secure link. The Nexus would not transmit Steve’s voice across the Internet when he touched his ear. From Syzygy’s Nexus there was no way to hear him. The whole reason he had met Allison in person was to prevent Syzygy from eavesdropping.

Allison.
Had she pickup on the fact that Syzygy could hear them? He hoped so. How could he tell her? His mind was blank. Think.

“Yeah! We got …” Allison shouted.

Syzygy reached for his neck with both hands.

Steve gasped.

Syzygy stopped short, inches from him. Syzygy lunged.

An invisible wall separated them. Steve exhaled heavily. He touched his earring. “Allison, he can hear us. I think …”

Syzygy’s mouth opened and expanded. His body turned black and engulfed him. Everything was dark, silent.

The invisible wall fell. The blanket of warm flesh coiled around him.

Steve struggled inside the fleshy cocoon. He screamed but heard nothing.

A brilliant strobe, a deafening hum, and a strong stench overwhelmed Steve. He lost his sense of balance and his skin crawled.

He became nauseous.

“Steve!” Allison screamed.

He blacked out.

A
ustin Wheeler entered through eight-foot double doors. Ashley Anderson, mother of Camille Anderson, and her lawyer sat at the far end of a mahogany table. The room had a nineteenth century feel with high ceilings; decorative wallpaper and ornate wood trim along both ceiling and floor. Pictures of the firm’s partners lined either side of the long room and a rich pattern carpeted the floor. Austin smiled. The firm used a canned room, straight from the VR web site. Had they even touched the shrink wrap? Austin doubted it.
This should be good.

Austin approached them without the assistance of a corporate lawyer. He knew he could represent the company better than any lawyer could. Lawyers could not be trusted. Though they had the moral flexibility required to be a team player, they rarely subscribed to the company’s agenda. They had their own personal goals and ambitions to push. Austin hated that. It looked better this way in any case—the CEO of Nexus Corporation taking time to console the lowly victim’s mother.

Austin offered his hand to Ashley. “Austin Wheeler, President of Nexus Corporation. I am so sorry about your terrible loss.”

She stood, leaned across the table, and shook his hand. “Thank you.”

When she returned to her seat, the lawyer shot the mother a glance. He shook his head. The man turned his attention to Austin. “Dirk Unger.”

Austin smiled and extended his hand. “And you must be her attorney, no?”

Mr. Unger remained seated. He didn’t smile.

Austin sat down.

“As I mentioned to you earlier, I will be representing Mrs. Anderson in these matters,” Dirk said, his voice tinged with irritation.

Austin nodded. Mr. Unger was confident. Too confident. Did he know about the defect, or worse, Syzygy? How could he? Austin wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was any mention of a lethal defect would sink the Nexus and his company; but Mr. Unger held only one card. That was his mistake. The lawyer expected an easy blackmail settlement, silence in exchange for money. It would not be that easy. Austin would make sure of it.

Austin gazed at Ashley. He studied her expression, posture, and gestures. She was the weak link—a susceptible, grieving mother.

“Madam, as we see it, Nexus is not responsible for your daughter’s death.”

“But the Nexus Transporter could have monitored the situation …” Dirk said.

Austin held his hand up.

Mr. Unger stopped midsentence.

Austin smiled. “We’re not saying that we don’t want to help you. Indeed, we are very sympathetic to your situation. We understand your husband died from X-flu and your mother is critically ill with the same virus?”

She nodded her head.

“Yes, but you can’t say it was X-flu that killed Camille. They don’t know why she died yet,” Dirk said.

“How can you say that? She was attacked!” Ashley glared at her lawyer.

Mr. Unger leaned over and whispered with his client.

Austin mentally lowered the settlement amount he would offer. He interrupted them. “Really, Mrs. Anderson? What on earth did this supposed attacker do to kill her?”

Ashley looked down.

Dirk leaned over and whispered something to his client.

“Did they say anything about X-flu? You know Camille’s symptoms sounded a whole hell of a lot like X-flu complications.”

Ashley shook her head.

“No, the attack killed her,” Dirk said.

They knew about the attack but not the defect.
Austin flashed the attorney an incredulous look. “What exactly could this
supposed
attacker do to kill her? They were both in VR. I know he may have scared her and that was horrible, but how can you say he killed her? It’s not possible.”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t X-flu!”

“Are you saying she died from stress? That he scared her to death?”

Dirk shook his head.

“Enlighten me. What are you saying?” Austin asked.

Ashley stared at her lawyer.

“The Nexus was involved. We’ll prove it in court.” Dirk stood.

Austin nodded. “Sit down, son.”

“We’re leaving,” Dirk said.

“I understand. We are sympathetic. Perhaps her body had been weakened by X-flu and the attack overwhelmed her.”

Ashley opened her mouth but her lawyer shook his head as he returned to his seat.

“You know it’s the only thing that makes any sense.” Austin leaned back in his chair.

“That’s not true.” Dirk said.

“Can it be ruled out?”

The spark left Ashley’s gaze. She stared down at the table. X-flu was the perfect scapegoat, an answer that gave her closure. Pain and denial would drive her where Austin wanted her to go. She would settle. That is, if Mr. Unger would step aside. The lawyer’s cut was a third. What was his price? That would determine the settlement.

Dirk leaned forward. “The Nexus should have detected Camille’s seizure. If so, medical help could have arrived in time to save her.”

“That’s a stretch and you know it. The coroner’s report says she died five minutes after the attack. How fast do you think the ambulances in your city are?”

Dirk pointed a finger across the table at Austin. “So the attack did kill her, albeit indirectly. If the Nexus had prevented the attack, she would still be alive today. By your own admission Nexus Corporation is responsible!”

Austin rubbed his chin. “Camille wasn’t quite eighteen was she?” The corners of Austin’s mouth curled into an involuntary smile. “Legally, she was not supposed to use your alias.”

“Watch yourself, Mr. Wheeler,” Dirk said.

“That would be the only way she could have entered the Ritz chat room where she was attacked. Dear boy, you claimed my company is responsible, but we put the V-chip in the Nexus to prevent sordid things like this from occurring. I’m sorry, but this little girl must have used someone else’s alias. Mrs. Anderson, this is your chat room, if I’m not mistaken, one that you frequent often, right?”

Dirk glanced to his client. Ms. Anderson never looked up from the table, but his words must have stung her.

Dirk glared at him. “The loaded gun law doesn’t apply here.”

Austin smiled. The lawyer caught his reference. The loaded gun law held a parent liable for the death of her child in the case of unlawful use of a restricted device. The law usually applied to guns, knives, and other conventional weapons; however, it was open to interpretation and the Nexus Transporter was very new. Austin doubted that the company would win such a case. However, criminal law was far behind the technological curve. This case would go all the way to the Supreme Court. Ms. Anderson would not survive the financial or psychological strain. Austin saw that Dirk knew this.

“What is he talking about?” Ashley asked.

“Son, should you explain it to your client or I?” Austin asked.

“Mrs. Anderson, could you please step outside for a moment. I need to have some words with Mr. Wheeler.”

Ashley looked worried, but Dirk reassured her with a nod, and Ashley stood and left the room.

“Look, I can tell by listening to you that you’re not coming clean. You’re hiding something.” Dirk said.

“Oh?”

“If you were on the level, you wouldn’t be here to settle.”

“Son, did you figure that out all on your own? I’m impressed!”

“Tell you what. I promise to drop the whole damn thing and not look deeper, if you make a fair settlement with Mrs. Anderson. Fate has dealt her a losing hand and I can’t allow you to capitalize on it. That is, unless you want me to leak this incident out to the press.”

Austin forced a smile. “I’m sorry, son. If you bring your client back in here, I promise, I will behave. You won’t be disappointed.”

Dirk shook his head. “That’s not good enough. Why should I trust you?”

“I do not know and do not care. You see, son, you’ve got no other choice. Fate
has
dealt your client a losing hand, but if you accept my terms, I’m willing to cut her some slack.”

Silence.

“Son, I’m not going to say it again.”

Dirk left the room. He returned with Ashley a moment later. She appeared shaken. Dirk nodded to Austin.

“Mrs. Anderson, we would like to help you. I have connections back in China, some subsidiary companies of ours. We have arranged for them to cover the cost of the self-organ transplant procedures your mother is enduring.”

Austin also knew from his Chinese contacts that these procedures never worked in the long run. It would, however, keep Mrs. Anderson busy and keep her mother alive. She would be unable to collect the energy or the resources for a fight with Nexus Corporation. She would be lucky to hold together long enough to outlive her mother. “We also would like to wire you $50,000 to cover the funeral expenses and alike for your daughter.”

Ashley smiled and exchanged a glance with her lawyer.

Dirk smiled back. He turned and faced Austin. “We tentatively accept your offer. I’ll have the settlement papers written up for you to sign.”

“Good. I will expect to see them by tomorrow morning.” Austin locked his gaze with Dirk’s. As Austin’s smile returned, Dirk looked away. The boy lawyer had accepted the offer “as is.” He should have predicted that and revised the settlement lower; but at least this little problem was out of the way.

A
llison drove through a somewhat seedy area of downtown Chicago. The time read 21:31 p.m. She had left Steve in the Ventura hotel. He would come around soon. The mild sedative she gave him would be wearing off. He would be better off not knowing about this part. No one could know.

Near dusk, the soot-stained buildings slid into a deeper shades of gray. Most of the cement and cinderblock structures that lined the street were boarded up, casualties of the recent shift in economy. She squinted and caught sight of a street sign as she passed: West Ontario. Good, she was close.

She pressed down on the gas and glanced at her watch: 7:30 California time. She had missed her appointment with Vinnie.
Damn.
She would need a good excuse. Vinnie already suspected something.

Allison turned down West Huron Street.
Where was 641? There!
She pulled into the basement garage and picked the first open slot. Xi Quang lived in the penthouse of the twelve-story building. In the past, such a suite would have been associated with power and prestige; however, with a vacancy rate of twenty percent in the inner city, this was no longer the case.

Allison entered the large brick building with its stained and discolored walls and a neglected marble floor, cracked and chipped in many places. The entryway opened into a larger lobby, and a minimum wage attendant sat behind a desk. She flashed a smile, crossed the floor, and entered the elevator. She pulled a key from her coat pocket, tinkered with the key lock for the top floor, and punched the button. The attendant never looked up from his video screen.

The elevator doors closed. She pulled out her pistol and flipped off the safety. Vinnie had her target pistol, so she would make do with a standard issue Glock 21 handgun. Pulling the slide back, she loaded the first round into the chamber.

A bell sounded as the elevator reached the top floor. She stood at the threshold. The elevator doors opened into a large studio with a tiled living room and an attached kitchen under vaulted ceilings. A hallway in the back probably led to the bathroom. She stuck her head out and glanced left—couches, fireplace, but no Quang. She glanced right.

The stupid bastard was still online, thank god. He sat at a dining room table. She saw the Nexus on his head, a hi-tech cap with flickering lights. A long cord extended from it to a wall jack in the kitchen. The hardwired connection gave him more bandwidth.

She holstered her gun and stepped into the room.

A siren wailed.

“What the hell?” She turned and saw a motion detector mounted above the elevator in plain view. “Crap!”

A mechanized hum caused her to spin around. From the hallway on the far side of the room emerged a two-foot-long model tank. The barrel raised as the tank approached.

“Now what?” she murmured.

Lightning shot out of the tank’s barrel. The bolt struck the back of the elevator. Allison leapt into the elevator and dove aside. She hated geeks. Allison glanced up at the elevator panel and punched the close door button.

Nothing happened.

She couldn’t make a break for it. The safety zone was on the other side of that tank.

A voice came from the room. “Who are you, man?”

Quang was controlling his
toy
from VR.

“Mr. Quang, I just want to talk.”

Another jolt of electricity shot into the elevator and electrified the wall near where the panel was located.

Allison pulled back.

From a speaker on the tank Allison heard Quang’s voice. “You, in the elevator. I know you’re just a messenger. Leave now before I use you to send a message of my own.”

Cute.
Allison heard the model tank move closer. From her angle, she saw the edge of the dining area. She could not see Quang, but she did see the cable connected to Quang’s Nexus. She followed the cable with her gaze and found where the cable connected to the wall.
Typical engineer.

Allison took careful aim. She fired two shots in quick succession at the socket on the wall. Sparks flew, and Quang yelped as he was ripped offline.

She waited a second.

Silence.

She poked her head around the corner and pulled back. The tank remained motionless. Allison stepped out of the elevator and emptied four rounds into the model tank.

She faced Quang. He lay moaning on the ground. His Nexus lay a few feet away from where he fell. She smiled as she approached him. The man’s physical appearance fit the profile. He was a small, teenage Chinese cyberpunk, no more than five feet tall.
Another addict,
she thought, noting Quang’s emaciated frame, pale skin, and atrophied muscles. He punished his body with drugs and non-stop cyber binges. He bore no resemblance to his VR alias Syzygy.

The contrast between his virtual body and his physical body spoke volumes about his contempt for the flesh and hatred of reality. This was his pressure point, the key to breaking him. Quang’s discomfort with his own body would be his undoing.

She stood over him and waited for Quang’s senses to recover.

Quang rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes.

Allison smiled. “And you’re under arrest.”

He muttered something in Cantonese.

“Don’t speak it, see?” she spoke in the cyber drawl. She watched as Quang’s eyes glanced toward the elevator.

You’ve got to be kidding.

Quang leaped past her.

She caught him by his collar and used his momentum to smash him into the table. The table snapped in half as he collapsed in a heap.

Allison smiled. “What got into you? You’re an idiot for trying that.” She cuffed the side of his head with her handgun and threw him back into the chair.

“You hit me!” he gasped in perfect English.

Allison smirked. She enjoyed the head games. These artistic types were all neurotic at the core. She stooped down and grabbed him by the throat. She picked two pressure points and adjusted her grip.

Quang tensed.

“If I let you go, will you be easy? Just want to talk is all. But I’ll hurt you if I need to, see?”

“Yeah, no problem man. I’m easy, a real pushover.”

She stuck her face inches from Quang’s and peered into his eyes. Quang’s gaze was empty and dark. He was just a puffed-up shell, a soulless husk. Allison smiled. He needed to appear cool. The demands of his protocol were particularly draining. One night in detention would do the trick. Thank god it was over. It was all over.

Allison frowned. “Come on Quangster, you’re going for a ride.”