Five

Five

    “You know, from up here,” Braxton Gargaryan was saying, “the smog looks even worse.”

    The ArkSen security dude sitting next to him didn’t even give crack a polite smile. Ashley Morse, who sat across from him took the bottled water from her lips and shrugged. “You get used to it.”

    Braxton lit a Black Eagle, “where we headed again?”

    “A place off the coast, Scrapyard.” Morse replied.

    “Sounds nice.”

    “It used to be used by smugglers and data thieves. Complete satellite silence.”

    “Still has jacks, though?” Braxton asked.

    “Of course. Encrypted decks.” She paused, pressed her earlobe. “Say again?” Silence. “Holy shit. Okay. Okay. Yeah. God damn it Miller, we’re almost there. Tell it to calm its shit. Yeah. I know, that’s bad.” More silence. “See you in a few.”

    “What happened?” Braxton asked. Even the security dude, outfitted in body armor and an assault rifle looked a bit unsettled.

    “Something sent a pulse wave through cyberspace. Killed thousands. Millions more can’t even log in. Decks wiped out, accounts erased.”

    “Any idea where this pulse came from?” Braxton asked. “And yeah, that’s some bad shit.”

    “That’s where you come in.”

----

The hovercar landed on the remains of an old 747 and Braxton stepped out, Ashley Morse close behind. Gregory Miller in all his gray glory ran out of a faded red (now pink) plastic building as the hovercar lifted off. He shook Braxton’s hand. “Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Gargaryan. I’m sad that its under such stressful circumstances.”

“No sweat, Mr. Miller,” Braxton replied, releasing his hand. “I’m just wondering why you had me flown all the way out here. We could have done all of this from my apartment.”

“Well, yeah. But if you had stayed there, you’d be dead, Mr. Gargaryan. MercLaw tracked your cyberdeck signal there.”

Braxton shrugged. “Yeah, true. Sloppy on my part.”

“I doubt it. You seem to be one of the only people left with more than pennies in their bank account.”

Braxton shrugged, shivered in the breeze.

“Let’s go inside, have some coffee, discuss our strategy.” Miller paused. “And your pay, of course. Lavigne is already here.”

“Lavigne?” Morse asked, stopping. “I thought I sent him on the Hernandez case.”

“Been recalled, we need him here.”

“Why?”

“Clone wanted him. Asked for him specifically. And now won’t stop referring to him as the ‘Paladin’”

“Christ.” Morse spat.

“Paladin?” Braxton asked.

“Yeah, you know, like in Dungeons and Dragons, or one of those fantasy sims?”

“A Knight? Why would we need a knight?”

Morse shook her head. “You’re the wizard, we have a knight. Christ. She’s making a god damn rpg out of us.”

“Who is ‘she’?” Braxton asked.

“We’re almost there.” Miller replied. They stepped into the plastic building, walked down a long hallway, and then into a brightly lit white room where an unshaven man was smoking a cigarette and drinking a cup of coffee in front of a white plastic humanoid shape. It stood, and lights blinked as it spoke in a voice that sounded like an archaic text-to-speech program.

“Welcome, Wizard, Thief, and Warrior. Meet the Paladin.”

The Paladin shrugged and took another drag of his cigarette.

----

“Alright,” Braxton said. “This is crazy.”

“Yeah,” Morse agreed, “which part?”

“Let me count the reasons,” he said. “One, its an AI. Aren’t those illegal? Two, this entire mission seems, well, impossible.” He lit up a Black Eagle. “I don’t like it. One fuck up and you guys are dead.”

“Yeah. I don’t like it either. But it may be the only chance of…”

“Chance of what? ArkSen recovering from a PR nightmare?” Braxton exhaled smoke.

“Is the money not enough?” Miller asked, coming up behind them.

“If this fails, sir, there won’t be any money.” Braxton replied.

“True. High risks, high gain. The true spirit of our economy.” Miller gave a small smile.

“Our-” Braxton began, but saw the look in Miller’s eyes. “Yeah. Alright. Is Lavigne ready?”

“Whenever you are. You still have four hours to get some sleep while we fly there.”

“Yeah, Clone gave me some derms to help me sleep, stims for when I wake up. Gonna be a piece of cake for me, you guys are going to have the tough part. The really fucking dangerous part.”

“So let’s do it.” Miller said.

Braxton nodded, popped an eight-sided pill into his mouth. “Hitting the hay. I’ll jack in as soon as you guys call. Have fun in Hong Kong.”

His eyes were already getting heavy. He yawned.

Miller and Morse nodded. “Let’s roll.”