Wired (Skinned, Book 3) (20 page)

195

I was concentrating on keeping my own reactions under wraps. So I couldn't admit I believed her--and I couldn't reveal my relief.

M. Poulet looked at her like she was exuding a bad smell. "If our discussion is making you uncomfortable, you're perfectly free to go. You can drop off your security credentials on the way out."

I didn't expect her to actually
go
. I appreciated the moral outrage, just not as much as I would have appreciated the moral support. She didn't ask my opinion. Her chair scraped back, the door slammed, and then she was gone. Call-me-Ben looked perturbed; M. Poulet looked bored. "Can we get back on track, please? We're well aware of your hijinks at our recent event, and your intrusion into private property. But we're willing to overlook it. Keep it between us, as it were."

"Private property?" Jude said angrily. I hoped it was for show, because if his
real
emotions were bleeding through, then he'd been thrown more off balance than I thought. "You want to talk about
private property
? How about the theft and destruction of
our
private property? Are we supposed to
overlook
that?
While you kill us off one by one?
"

"We're doing nothing of the sort," M. Poulet said, indignant.

"You're stealing copies of our brains," I said quietly, before Jude could fire back. "And then you're stripping them. There are
people
in those machines. Don't you get that?"

196

"They're
not
people." It was the first time Ben had spoken. He leaned toward me, elbows on the table, his best earnest expression fixed on his face. "That's what you've got to understand. Without the crucial subroutines that control emotion, memory, all the things that make a personality, these are nothing but arrays of electronic data. There's no consciousness."

"How do you know? What if they can still think? Or feel?"

"They can't. They're machines, computers. Nothing more."

"Did you join the Brotherhood while I wasn't looking?" I snarled. "Because your Savona impression is awesome."

"This technology is a miracle," Ben said, eyes shining. "It's brought you--all of you--back from the dead. And that's only the
beginning
. We're talking about the fusion of man and machine--the possibilities of this technology are limitless."

He didn't have much future as an evangelist. Though even Rai Savona lacked the rhetorical prowess to gloss this over.

"We're not technology. We're people."

"
You're
people, yes--but we're not talking about you. How does it hurt you to donate a copy of your brain to a good cause? How does it change anything to know that a copy of some of your synapses is helping protect the nation or heal the sick? How does that do anything to you, except perhaps make you proud?"

"Funny," Riley said softly. "Almost sounds like we volunteered."

"If this is such a wonderful advance for orgs and mechs alike," I said, "then why keep it a secret?"

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"You see how
you've
reacted," Ben pointed out. "We needed to ease the way. Help people understand. Once they do--"

"Enough," M. Poulet cut in. "We don't have to defend ourselves to ..." He flicked a hand at us. "These." He stood up and pushed in his chair, as if to say,
Meeting's over
. "I would think that with popular opinion of you and your kind at such alarmingly low levels, you'd have better things to worry about than trivia like this. I'd suggest you focus on the bigger picture here."

"Trivia like you turning us into war machines?" I said, disgusted.

"Lia, enough," Jude said. "They obviously didn't come here to reason with us, and we didn't come here to reason with them."

"Ah, finally," M. Poulet said. "We get down to it."

Jude stood up too. A beat later Riley and I joined him on our feet. Only Ben stayed seated, looking bewildered about how the meeting had slipped out of his control. "You're going to stop this," Jude said. "Stop abusing the stored copies. Stop experimenting on us like we're animals. And then you're going to give
us
the means to store our own uploads, and to repair and replace our own bodies. You're going to set us free."

"I assume there's an implied
or
?" M. Poulet asked dryly.

"Or we go public," Jude said. "And it doesn't matter what you try to do to us here--there are people waiting for my signal. If they don't hear from me in the next hour, they're going to release everything we have on the network. You're done."

198

It was no bluff. Zo was waiting.

"
Do
to you?" M. Poulet sounded like he was holding back laughter. "What exactly would we
do
to you?"

"What wouldn't you do?" Jude said.

Now the peals of laughter burst through, cold and hollow. "I don't know what kind of gangsters you children are used to dealing with, but this is a business. You come in here, wasting our time, making your petty little threats, acting as if we could ever have something to fear from
you
." As he spoke, the joviality drained from his voice, until all that remained was steel. "Let me be perfectly clear: We have
nothing
to fear from you. You're children--not even that: mechanical copies of children. While
we
are a multinational corporation offering the world a new and exciting technology that will improve the lives of millions. You think anyone's going to repudiate that because we're 'inconveniencing' a few skinners?" He smiled coldly. "And you're assuming that releasing information on the network is your right, rather than a privilege you're accorded by the corps who sponsor the zones. You're assuming that BioMax has neither the power, the technology, nor the will to scrub the network--every inch of it--of any inconvenient allegations."

They couldn't. The network was teeming with billions of zones; it was a sprawling kingdom several times more populous than the flesh-and-blood world. It would take a massively sophisticated search-and-destroy algorithm, not to mention ridiculous computational power, to scrub our posts before they

199

leached into the fabric of the network. Not to mention the fact that zones were supposed to be impregnable. Everyone knew there were hackers, and even the best news zones fell prey almost daily to prank posts and attacks, but the whole point of the network was supposed to be the accessibility of information, the impossibility of locking up any truth that wanted to be free. Thousands of potential truths jockeying with one another for supremacy, maybe, but that was supposed to be the democracy of modern life, the freedom to choose our own reality. The freedom to
know.

Then again, maybe it was time I stopped relying on
supposed-to-be
s.

"What could you possibly be thinking right now?" M. Poulet said, clucking his tongue with fake sympathy. "Perhaps you're wondering where else to turn. Surely
someone
can help you, am I right?" He leaned across the table and skimmed his hand across the screen, bringing it back to life. "Him, perhaps?"

The Japanese man who appeared on the screen was someone I'd never seen before. He looked to be about my father's age and wore a neatly tailored suit with no visible tech, but his red pupils indicated this was no Luddite. I'd seen a prototype of the same lenses at a recent BioMax show-and-tell--they were some kind of artificial cybernetic implant that, among other things, allowed their recipient to process and index visual stimuli as if they were text in a network database. So while I was a stranger to him, his glancing at my face would trigger

200

an automatic network search that would, within seconds, relay to his neural implants anything he wanted to know about Lia Kahn.

But he wasn't looking at me. Neither was M. Poulet. They both had their eyes fixed on Jude. The Japanese man smiled and offered him a shallow bow.

"I think you know M. Sani," M. Poulet said. "Go ahead, congratulate him. Just this morning he and I put the finishing touches on a partnership that will enrich both our companies, not to mention all who benefit from our technological innovation."

Jude just stared.

"I suppose we owe it partially to you," M. Poulet said. "BioMax and Aikida have been rivals for far too long.
You
helped us both see that our interests lay in cooperation, rather than competition."

Finally, I understood why Jude looked like he was about to fall over. We hadn't just been outplayed. We'd been laughed off the field.

201

"Surely you didn't think we'd actually let you follow through with your pathetic little plot," M. Poulet added. "You'd do well--all of you--to remember that we're in control here. Surely, Lia, at least you understand how much control we have. And what we can do."

I suddenly understood.
This is the man who sentenced me to death
. He was practically bragging about it. So disgustingly certain that there was nothing we could do to him.

Maybe he was right.

"Will that be all?" M. Poulet concluded. "Because if so, I have some actual business to attend to today."

Call-me-Ben cleared his throat. "Lia, if you and your friends would like to discuss this further--"

"I think they've wasted enough of our time today," Poulet snapped. "We've
both
got busy days ahead of us."

His meaning couldn't have been clearer if he'd fitted Ben with a leash and muzzle.

"My assistant can show you out," Ben said, cowed. Pathetic. Though no more so than we were.

"We can find our own way," Jude said.

"Oh, I think it'll be best for you to have an escort," M. Poulet said. "Don't you? Wouldn't want you wandering off and getting lost on our property again, now, would we?"

So we lost even that battle. We followed Ben's assistant, not speaking, avoiding one another's eyes. We did as we were told.

202

* * *

We retreated to the outer edge of the parking lot, which was nearly empty but for our two cars. It must have been obvious from our expressions how the meeting went, because neither Zo nor Sari asked. They just watched us warily, waiting for someone to make a move.

"Assholes," I finally said.

Jude snorted. "Can we skip the ritualistic licking of wounds?"

"Right, no point in dwelling on past mistakes," Riley said. "Especially when they're yours."

"Mine? This was your idea."

"My idea to go, yours to talk--and talk, and talk, and talk, and say nothing. As usual. And then there's Aikida." He shook his head. "You're some master strategist."

It took me a second to identify the expression on Jude's face, as I'd never seen it there before: humiliation. And almost as soon as I caught on, it faded away, replaced by pure anger.

Sari draped herself over Riley, her head on his shoulder. "Is anyone going to tell me what happened?"

"What do you care?" Jude spit out. "What the hell are you even doing here?"

"Leave her alone," Riley said.

Jude scowled at Sari. "She's a big girl. Let her defend herself."

"She shouldn't have to."

203

"And Lia shouldn't have to deal with this crap," Jude said. "But you bring
that
here and rub it in her face. Nice."

"Can we not do this?" I said.

"She's none of your business," Riley warned him.

Jude smirked. "Which
she
are we talking about?"

"Jude, don't." Knowing as I spoke that it wouldn't do any good. "We're all a little tense after--"

"Let him talk," Riley said, loudly.

"Oh, I really don't think you want that," Jude said.

"Try me."

"What should we talk about, Riley? The way you turned me in to the secops? Tried to blame it on
her
?"

"I did not," Riley insisted.

Jude laughed. "Not out loud. But I know how you think, remember? There's always an excuse. She talked you into it; she lied to you. So you throw her away instead of just sucking it up and accepting what you did."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Riley growled.

Jude wouldn't stop. "You ran away when she needed you. Why am I not surprised?"

I didn't need him standing up for me, especially when he was only doing it because he was spoiling for a fight. "Jude, shut up."

"Always on her side these days, aren't you?" Riley said, a nasty edge to his voice.

Sari tugged at his arm. "Forget them. Let's just go."