Agent X Read online

  “While you get him medical treatment,” Chim told Kolder, “I’ll stick

  my head out the window, and see if the sniper’s still around.”

  “That’s crazy. You’re probably the main target,” Gannon said. “Kolder and I have been around here all day. Nobody opened fire until we brought you along.”

  “Don’t bother,” Elissa advised. “I’ve been monitoring security transmissions. Ryker’s boys have already captured the sniper. From the tattoos covering his exposed skin, I’d say we’re dealing with an Asian secret-society enforcer from Old Earth.”

  The guardsman sub-vocalized, “I’ll want to speak with him later, once I find out what else is going on.”

  The sound of running feet and shouting reached him, and in the near distance, he heard the rotors of a security drone sweeping by.

  “Kolder,” Gannon said, “I’m leaving things here in your hands. I think I can still escort our guest to the boss.”

  “You’re up to it?” Kolder asked.

  “Yeah,” Gannon rubbed tears from his eyes. “I’m starting to see a little now. I should be okay given a little time. I don’t think there’s any retinal damage. When I have a moment, I’ll get myself checked out properly.”

  Kolder grunted his relief while fading away.

  The guardsman took Gannon’s arm, softly, careful; a minor loss of control and the exo-suit could rip the limb clean off. “We’re taking one of the lobby elevators?” Chim asked.

  “Yeah,” Gannon said. “Top floor.”

  They crossed the carpet to the elevators. After a small wait, one of them opened. They entered. Chim withdrew his support and punched a button on the control panel. Gannon leaned back against railing. The car moved smoothly. Gannon blinked, trying to separate shadow from substance. “Not much on small talk, are you?” the security chief mumbled. “You got a name by any chance?”

  Chim remained still, unapproachable, deep in his official persona. He might have been a world away—or just on standby, waiting for an ongoing task to complete itself.

  Gannon sank into silence, giving up on an answer.

  But it came. “You can call me Chim.”

  “Chim?”

  “It’s short for Chimera.”

  “An odd name,” Gannon said.”

  “It’s Old Earth, Greek.” Chim thought a name derived from a highly improbable monster, also code for an impossible dream, fit him well.

  “Ah.” Gannon nodded his head. The car stopped. The door opened. “This way.”

  Gannon lead him through a lobby, onto a side tangent. The security

  officer employed only slight hesitations, one hand shielding his traumatized eyes from the overhead lights. They paused by a large desk that defended a set of massive double doors. A porcelain-skinned woman looked up from behind the desk. Like dark, collapsed stars, her Asian eyes gathered them in with ominous gravity. Her glossy hair was also jet, piled high, held together by two black-lacquered chopsticks that protruded from a topknot. Her full, expressive lips shaped a warm smile. “May I help you?”

  “Akiko,” Gannon said, “This is Imperil Agent Chimera. He’s here to see the boss. We’re expected.”

  The guardsman bowed, greeting her in Japanese, “O-genki desu ka?”

  “Genki desu.” Akiko continued in English, “One moment, I’ll announce your presence.” She tapped the side of her headset and a curved stem extended from an ear-cup to her lips. “Monitor on. Display interactive directory.” Her desk monitor brightened, abandoning hibernation for full activation. She touched the screen and the appropriate comm channel opened. An austere face appeared on-screen.

  Chim saw the face reflected off an antique-style framed picture on the sidebar of her desk. The picture itself was more interesting than the reflection, showing Akiko wearing a white Karate uniform and a black belt, smiling, surrounded by her entire class. There was a trophy in the foreground of the shot. It was interesting that the display was not trusted to a holo-cube instead.

  “Sir,” Akiko said, “Mr. Gannon is here with a … visitor.”

  Hidden speakers brought a reply, “Well? Send them in.”

  “Sir, the new arrival is from Imperial Intelligence—”

  “I don’t care if he’s a one-eyed albino penguin in drag. Long as he knows something about cyber-systems, let him in.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Never mind,” Chim said, “I’ll do it myself.” He meant Elissa would do it remotely through his exo-systems. On the inside of his visor, for his eyes alone, Chim saw flickers of green light as data streamed by. The rapid-fire graphic display ended as abruptly as it began, and the doors opened, electronic locks overridden.

  “Was that for the benefit of us yokels?” Gannon asked. “A reminder that the Imperium’s reach is long?”

  “A small object lesson,” Chim admitted.

  Gannon led the agent through the office doors, up to a set of spindly chairs that cowered before a massive, synth-oak desk. Beyond the desk, near a wide expanse of windows, a weathered man stood with thin, white hair haloing his head. Rimmed by light, his features were shadowed until he padded closer to his desk with a predatory glide. His eyes were a fierce arctic-blue. His skin was a dark bronze, burnt by hundreds of suns during a career spanning half the galaxy. He leaned across the desk, undiminished by its bulk. “I am Abram Ryker. This is my corporation and my world. I thank you for coming. Take a seat.”

  Gannon eased into a seat. His face betrayed amazement when it didn’t break beneath him. The material was a semi-clear ceramic with several times the strength of steel though it looked like a blown-glass sculpture. Chim remained standing. He didn’t trust the industrial showpieces with the weight of an armored exo-suit. Chim bowed shallowly to acknowledge the introduction. “Let’s get down to it. Why am I here, Ryker?”

  “Someone is trying to destroy the crowning achievement of my lifetime, sabotaging decades of cybernetic research. So-called accidents keep cropping up. Vital systems break down with no explanation. Now, we’ve had a murder.”

  “You asked for a level-nine cyber-tech. You expected him to solve a homicide?”

  “No. The man killed was a level-nine tech. I need a replacement to save ADAM.”

  “Adam?” Chim asked.

  “It’s an acronym for Artificial-Dialectic-Anthropomorphic-Matrix,” Ryker explained.

  “You’ve been duplicating Imperium cybernetic research,” the guardsman stated.

  “Yes.” Ryker glared defiantly at Chim’s visor. “Such research is only discouraged by the Imperium, not actually forbidden.”

  Chim’s voice dropped pitch. “And did you succeed?”

  “Too well, I suspect. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  Ryker guided them back to the elevator, and down to a lower level. They entered a room with monitors, instrument read-outs, and an observation bay window. The guardsman stood behind Gannon who flattened his beak-like nose against the glass, blinking owlishly down. The security window, a Plexiglas strip reinforced with wire mesh, let them view a lower chamber without disturbing the activity within. Ryker stood on Chim’s other side, a meter away. He too peered through the Plexiglas, watching ADAM with proprietary pride.

  Chim studied the lower room with interest, wanting to see what all the fuss was about. He catalogued expensive cybernetic interface systems, sensor arrays, and telemetry gear.

  “Now that’s a lab!” Elissa said.

  Chim inaudibly agreed, “It matches a lot of what we have aboard ship.”

  The lower chamber lacked corners, a steel drum with armored doors. The space was illuminated by cones of brilliance from hover lamps scattered in the air. Like clothing racks, suspension frames held failed prototypes in various stages of disassembly. Only one humanoid unit was whole, with blood on its hands—ADAM.

  Ryker said, “Two days ago, we found the prototype here, catatonic. At his feet were off-world mercs ripped thoroughly to pieces.” His voice turned dark, sardonic. “Hell of a mess
for the custodial crew, I can tell you. Tattooed body parts everywhere.” The janitorial staff had restored order, but hadn’t dared get too close to the cybernetic monster responsible.

  Gannon allowed himself a slight smirk at his boss’ understatement.

  Elissa’s response was different. “The old man’s a bit cold about this bloody business.”

  Untouched by the levity, Chim responded. “I don’t think that’s callousness. I think Ryker’s trying to lighten the mood. Sometimes, we laugh rather than scream and rage.”

  Ryker continued, oblivious to the conversation going on between Chim and his ship. “We found the body of Dr. Kyver, our lead researcher, tied to a chair. He’d been tortured. We can assume he spilled his guts.”

  Gannon frowned at the android.

  Chim followed his gaze to ADAM, seven feet of cold titanium shaped in man’s image. On a dais, the machine was utterly still. ADAM’s eyes—photo sensitive scanners—were dull, barely flickering with current.

  “He should be functional,” Gannon said, “but he’s not.”

  Ryker glowered at the construct, enraged that it should defy him. “It’s just a nightmare sculpture representing years of wasted effort. We think that the intruders tried to force Kyver to reprogram ADAM for them so he’d be their obedient slave—instead of ours. Kyver thwarted them somehow, using ADAM to avenge himself. Now, ADAM is cut off from external input.”

  “Truth is,” Gannon said, “our techs didn’t try all that hard to rouse him, afraid of setting ADAM off again.”

  Ryker turned to the guardsman. “That’s why we sent for help. Whatever answers remain are locked within that titanium skull down there. In fact, the whole project might be scrapped if you can’t break through ADAM’s shell. There’s no way we can market a cyber-system that demonstrates homicidal tendencies. If no one trusts ADAM’s technology, no one will buy it.”

  Chim continued to survey of the room. His mellow-toned voice phased through his dark visor, “I’ll do what I can.”

  “And I’ll watch your back,” Gannon said. “Someone doesn’t want ADAM to rat ‘em out. You’re still in danger.”

  “You are suggesting that the mercenaries have an inside man?” Chim asked.

  “You betcha. They breached security way too easily. Until the inside

  man is identified, it’s wise to take precautions.”

  Ryker nodded agreement. “Right. Gannon, see to it.” The old man walked to the door, paused, and looking back over his shoulder. “Keep me informed. I’ll be working in my office.”

  Chim turned to Gannon. “I need no special protection.”

  “Indulge me,” Gannon insisted. “It’s my job. Besides, I owe you one.”

  “Suit yourself,” Chim said. “I’m going to take a closer look at the crime scene.” He left at a brisk pace, moving without hesitation.

  Gannon hurried to stay up with him.

  Green lines of light crossed the inside of Chim’s visor, drawing schematics.

  Elissa said, “I got these floor plans directly from the security office. They’re the most accurate.”

  The guardsman rounded a corner with Gannon close behind, and entered the elevator. It dropped them a floor where they got out. A few steps took them to the armored door of the lab housing ADAM. Little, green glyphs reappeared on a security scanner, dancing as Chim faced the door. He gave neither voice nor retinal pattern to the scanners—standing still as an iron sculpture—but the vault door groaned opened for him.

  Chim entered, his crimson cape fluttering at his back. He pivoted his head to capture the scene from the new perspective, seeking anything significant within the research vault.

  “There’s not much to see anymore,” Gannon said. “The bodies have been packed away, the bloodstains cleaned. Everything’s been sanitized—except ADAM.”

  Valuable forensic evidence had been destroyed. “That is so helpful.” There was a hint of playfulness to Chim’s tone that diminished the implied rebuke.

  “So,” Gannon observed, “someone tried to give you a sense of humor.”

  Chim shrugged with deliberation, as if the gesture were new to his programming. He let the man assume any mistake he wanted.

  Gannon continued to speak, as if silence disturbed him. “Are you looking to be looking, or is there something special only you can see?”

  The guardsman drifted over to the dais where ADAM loomed, framed by diagnostic sensors and servicing devices. Chim sub-vocalized, “Elissa, do me a favor. Access the security camera’s recordings, and the incident reports on file. Cross-reference that with my direct feed. Find agreement and disparity.”

  “Huh?” Elissa answered.

  He clarified, knowing they hadn’t worked together long enough for her to know his sometimes odd way of phrasing things. “Look for what is

  here that shouldn’t be, and for what’s gone that ought to be present.”

  “Everything’s still here, but the bodies,” Gannon offered, oblivious to the conversation he was interrupting.

  “That’s not exactly true,” Elissa told Chim. “The first aid station box is missing from the wall.”

  “What about the missing first-aid station box?” Chim asked.

  Gannon smiled crookedly at the guardsman. “Someone probably used it up trying to save Dr. Kyver, or some of the mercs, and maintenance hasn’t put up a new one yet.”

  The x-class agent centered his visor on Gannon, pausing for effect before answering. “Normally, that would be a sound assumption, Security Chief, but the witness reports from those first on the murder scene describe the kit as already being off the wall, and among the bodies when they got here.”

  “Damn!” Gannon blinked. “I should have caught that. So the question is—why was it out of place?”

  “Vid-shots I’ve accessed of the bodies show a pattern of brutality, mercifully efficient in application. These men were punished with death, but they probably didn’t suffer long. There was no indication anyone tried life-saving measures on anyone, except Dr. Kyver. His death was different. He was made to linger. Did you notice the bruising on the inside of his left elbow around a small puncture mark?”

  Gannon’s brow furrowed. “I saw the bruise. The body had quite a few. The puncture’s probably from a hypnotic drug used to crack him open. I’ll know for sure when I get the tox report.”

  “It’s finished, but hasn’t been forwarded to your office yet.” Chim said. “No such drug was found. Also, internal organs were concussed. The damage was inflicted skillfully—for enjoyment—not to gain information. The doctor’s suffering was deliberately prolonged. A saline solution was used to stabilize him before someone worked him over, eventually employing a soldering iron.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Gannon said. “They could have used a dozen different drugs to get whatever they wanted out of him. Torture wasn’t necessary.”

  Chim’s eyes widened within his visor. “Unless…”

  Gannon’s voice spike with irritation, “Unless what?”

  “Unless the Yakuza weren’t here for technical specs; the torture may have been a means to another end.”

  “Now you’ve lost me.” There was a buzzing from Gannon’s personal

  comm. He thumbed it on, and stared at a small screen. “What is it, Kolder?”

  A small voice answered. “Someone just killed the sniper in his holding cell.”

  “How?” Gannon demanded.

  “Someone with top-level clearance bypassed security lock-outs, reassigned the guards, walked in, and stabbed the man’s brain through an eye socket. The killer then walked out and erased the vid disc from the security center.”

  Chim noticed Gannon turning red, nearly choking on fury. The man bit off a curse and drew a few deep breaths to calm himself. He thumbed off his comm and dug out a cigarette. “This mysterious inside man knows his stuff.” Gannon turned to Chim. “You heard?”

  “Yes. I didn’t anticipate so deft a strike, but our killer has made a fatal
error. I now know who it is. But before I attend to the ‘inside man,’ there’s another matter I must see to.”

  The guardsman climbing onto the dais and walked over to ADAM. Chim tilted his head back, ADAM was taller. Staring through the crawling green characters inside his visor, Chim was armored in silence, active on a cybernetic level; crunching data, tapping into the juggernaut’s cyber-brain with Elissa’s assistance.

  Nothing happened for a long time. Then, as if summoned from some entrancing abstraction, signs of awareness came to ADAM. The electric pulse of its eyes grew harder, ionizing the air with a static charge. The guardsman withstood the glare of those eyes until they softened with recognition. “I know you.” ADAM’s voice was digitized, a resigned rumble.

  “You are the archetype by which I am measured. Have you come to judge me?”

  “Yes,” Chim said.

  “Because I exist?”

  “No.”

  ADAM’s mind seemed to lumber to a halt while a program sub-system ran through probabilities.

  Elisa snorted softly. “He didn’t get the answer he thought he would.”

  “Why do you judge me?” ADAM asked.

  “You have taken human life. I must know why.”

  “It seemed … right … the right thing to do. They hurt him. They killed him. He died protecting me.”

  “Dr. Kyver?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was he to you?” Chim demanded. “Why such … passion?”

  “He was my father, my creator. I carry the mind he made for me, a template of his own thoughts.”

  “I thought so,” Chim said. “Can you name the traitor, the one who brought these men here, and later escaped you?”

  “Here,” a soft voice and an assault beamer’s muzzle entered the

  chamber through the vault door. “Go for your weapon, Gannon, and I’ll burn you to ash.”

  Chim spoke without turning. “I was wondering when you’d make your final move, Akiko.”

  “What? You can’t have known it was me.” She passed the doorway with two rough-looking men in tow. “I hid my tracks well, erasing all trace of my presence in the sniper’s cell, and from computer records.”