《Heavy Metal: A Cyberpunk Novelette》 Chapter 1: Fanboy ¡°I?ve been a fan for, like, a decade,¡± said the soldier in the gray uniform. ¡°Huh. So, you?ve been listening since it was just me in that tiny apartment uploading stuff?¡± The man played with the badge around his neck. Under his mugshot it read, Clive Whales. ¡°Oh yeah, man. And I was playing that shit to all my schoolmates, whether they wanted me to or not. Your stuff was awesome right out of the gate.¡± ¡°I don?t know about that. You?ve probably heard the recordings of me just learning guitar while I was still a drummer.¡± Clive smirked, but it went away as he looked out the windows beside them. Outside, the street lights turned off. Men with rifles and night vision goggles patrolled the sidewalks. Everyone else scurried to apartment buildings. ¡°Well, yeah.¡± The soldier shrugged. ¡°I started listening right after you and Yesfir adopted a band name. She could scream.¡± Clive looked down. ¡°She could. A shame she didn?t work out. Hey, what?s your name? Are you security?¡± He put out his hand. The soldier shook it. ¡°Ian Taylor. Staff Sergeant. Naw. I?m with the local detachment. You see, they want us out and about in uniform when off duty to put an impression on people. We?re more than just guys in helmets.¡± Clive frowned. ¡°So, is this more or less a feel-good tactic? That?s the first time I?ve heard of that. I mean, I figure you?d come here if you could, but they want you here?¡± ¡°Right, right. I put in a request for this concert, and I got it on the condition that I go in uniform. ?Events in Uniform? is what we?re calling them in the barracks, and they?re getting approved left and right. For now.¡± Ian put his hands in his pockets and leaned against a cafeteria table. The fluorescent light above them flickered. Between the lights, gray tables blended with the shadows. ¡°So, where?s the rest of the crew?¡± asked Ian.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°They?ve moved on to a tavern,¡± said Clive. ¡°I?m stuck here waiting for someone. Just some mid-tour bullshit I need to deal with.¡± Ian nodded. ¡°Anything I can help with? You know I can help you get about after the curfew.¡± Clive smiled. ¡°Much appreciated, but not necessary. This guy knows how to move.¡± ¡°Oh, really?¡± Ian cocked his head. ¡°Dude, just be careful. We?re not playing games in this town. There?ve been shootings this week. The reporters missed them, since the curfew applies to them, too. Terrorists don?t sleep.¡± ¡°I know, I know.¡± Clive shook his head. ¡°Let?s not get into this terror bullshit. I learned before I got here things are more complicated than that.¡± Ian smirked. ¡°Well, I guess the rock-and-roll attitude would make ya sympathetic to a rebel force.¡± Clive took a step back. ¡°It ain?t like that, man. Don?t think I was isolated on the coast. People came back from the war and everybody?s stories contradicted why we went overseas. Now, it?s right here and it?s the same confusing shit. Fuck, I didn?t want to get into this.¡± ¡°I?m sorry.¡± Ian put a hand up. ¡°I don?t claim to know any more than you do. I just made a joke. Things are a little different from my end. I live with the bad stuff you only hear about on the coast. Sometimes, you just have to laugh. I?m not putting you down. I?ll shut up about it.¡± Clive sighed. ¡°It?s okay, man.¡± He looked at the door by the other light further down the cafeteria. ¡°Maybe you shouldn?t be here when he arrives.¡± ¡°Why so?¡± ¡°Because...¡± Clive looked around. ¡°That uniform, man. It just puts some people on edge.¡± Ian raised a palm. ¡°Look, man. I?m off duty. I ain?t seeing shit, and I sure ain?t reporting shit.¡± He rested a hand on the grip of his pistol. ¡°This here is for my personal protection. Nothing more.¡± He reached into a cargo pocket in his pants. ¡°How about some fanboy-ism and then I?ll get going.¡± He pulled out a wrapped cloth, then unfolded it to reveal a CD. ¡°Think you could sign this for me?¡± Clive laughed. ¡°Absolutely. I haven?t seen the limited edition of our debut in a while.¡± He signed the CD case and handed it back to Ian. ¡°You know, I haven?t seen a CD in forever now that I think about it. You straight up can?t get entertainment now unless it?s over the internet, and even then you better hope you?re not throttled. Did you get the later albums before shipping halted all over?¡± Ian shook his head. ¡°Well, I got the second and third. The fourth got denied in transit and I just hunted down a disk-image online.¡± ¡°That sucks. I?ll talk to our drummer later. We keep copies for backstage guests, but we?ll work something out.¡± He looked over as a man stepped through the far door. ¡°I gotta go.¡± They shook hands and Clive walked towards the new arrival. The new man held his head low so his hat covered his face. His trench coat swayed as he strode across the room. Glancing up, he glared at Clive. Chapter 2: The Stranger ¡°Relax, man,¡± said Clive, waving a hand downward. ¡°This is just a fan on his way out.¡± At that, the new arrival softened his stance. He walked up to Ian and put out his hand. ¡°Well, a fan of Clive deserves my gratitude, too. I?m one of the tour managers.¡± He spread his arms apart. ¡°The situation in the city is holding up the band. I?ve been sent to try and get the matter resolved.¡± ¡°Anything I can help with?¡± asked Ian. ¡°No. The curfew complicates things, but I have a means of getting around. Permits and the like. I?m sure even in uniform you had to get your own pass.¡± Ian nodded. ¡°Yeah, I gotcha.¡± He gestured back at Clive. ¡°Thanks again for talking to me after the show. Hopefully, next time it?s a mob waiting for you.¡± Clive frowned. ¡°They all feared the curfew. And maybe you.¡± Ian scrunched his eyebrows at that. ¡°Well, I?ll get out of your way then. Good luck. And thanks for being awesome.¡± He walked across the cafeteria to the front entrance of the building. The combat system in his implant fired up. Numeric figures and maps overlaid his vision. The threat sensor flashed alarm. Enemies stacked up outside the door. He ran back into the cafeteria. ¡°Guys! Get the fuck down!¡± The front doors exploded inward. Ian ducked down and covered his ears, his threat reaction system protecting him from the flash bang. After the burst, Ian looked over to see Clive doing the same thing. Was he wired? The manager had stayed up and took the full concussive force. Ian heard the boots on the tile floor before he saw them. He rolled around to see his own forces storming into the cafeteria in full plate armor. They lit up the manager. The smell of blood and cordite filled his hyper-activated senses. ¡°Cease fire! There?s civilians in here!¡± Ian looked over to see Clive crawling under the cafeteria tables towards the stage. The fire team split and moved up either side of the tables. Ian switched to infrared and saw their weapon lights playing across the tables. One of them fixed a light on Clive. A pair moved up to his position. ¡°Stop!¡± More shots filled the cafeteria, the supersonic cracks deafening despite the suppressors. What the fuck were his people doing? Ian felt sweat drip down his face as he lay on his side. What the fuck were they doing? One of the soldiers marched up to Ian. He held out a hand. ¡°Sergeant,¡± said the soldier, his voice artificial through his mask. Ian stared at the soldier?s hand, then accepted it. The burning scent of cordite gave way to the sticky sweet smell of death. He saw flashing lights through the windows and stepped outside. Police set up barricades on either side of the street, and stood away from the military personnel. In front of him, an ambulance parked itself behind the coroner?s van. A medic rushed up to him with a scanner. Ian put up his hand. ¡°I?m fine,¡± said Ian. ¡°There?s two downed civilians inside.¡± The medic ran his scanner up and down Ian?s body. ¡°I?m not here for them.¡± He pointed at the coroner?s van, a civilian vehicle on lease to the UN occupying forces. When the medic finished, Ian walked over to the command APC in the street between the two blockades. Captain Rourke stepped out from the APC and Ian saluted. ¡°Sergeant Taylor,¡± said Rourke. ¡°I?m glad to see you made it through okay. Though I doubt those special forces would?ve made a mistake.¡± ¡°Special forces?¡± Ian looked over the UN armored personnel carrier behind Rourke. Through the open side door, he saw comms officers in bulky seats with wires running down to their headsets. They held their arms above them as they navigated a sea of data. The spec ops team must?ve parked a stealth carrier at the corner of the block, like any good assault team.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°I?m sorry,¡± said Ian. ¡°But why are special forces interested in an underground rock star?¡± Rourke?s smile revealed large and squared teeth. ¡°They weren?t initially after the musician. The man who claimed to be his tour manager got tracked to the city. He?s on the blacklist of known terror suspects.¡± Rourke?s grin faded. Only select officers and special forces could access the blacklist. Ian had stumbled into something deep. ¡°Once we saw him with Clive Wales we corroborated photos and found Wales to be a match with another blacklist subject.¡± Ian felt a cold shock run through him. His nerves strained from the post-adrenaline dump. ¡°How?d that happen?¡± Ian?s hands started to shake. ¡°I?ve been listening to this guy for over a decade. Shit, I planned on going to college for music because of him, before the war broke out overseas.¡± He felt lightheaded. Rourke put a hand on Ian?s shoulder. ¡°I know this is tough to swallow. I know you probably joined to protect people like him. The artists and innovators that keep us motivated out on the frontlines.¡± Holding back tears, Ian stared into Rourke?s eyes. Like hell he was gonna cry in front of a captain. ¡°Yeah. Something like that.¡± Rourke dropped his arm and took a step back towards the APC. Ian looked towards the building he?d come out of. He expected someone to walk through the front door. ¡°Hey, wait a sec,¡± said Ian. ¡°Shouldn?t the coroner have come out by now?¡± Rourke gazed off at the building, his mouth halfway open. ¡°I guess it won?t hurt for you to know this. Clive?s consciousness is imprinted onto a military grade cube. The coroner opted to extract his cube on the spot in case there are erasure programs.¡± Ian shuddered at the thought of virtual suicide. Once soldiers reached a certain rank, the UN offered to imprint the soldier¡¯s consciousness onto a small cube-shaped supercomputer embedded in their skull. If their body was destroyed, numerous bases had cloned bodies on hand. Ian helped oversee one of them on the other side of the city. The cloned bodies all looked the same. ¡°So how the hell did a civilian get access to that kind of tech?¡± If Clive helped the terrorists, then it made sense to put some protection in place for their asset. They could have multiple copies of Clive running around. Why would he get involved with those people? What did he know that Ian didn?t? Rourke raised his chin. ¡°Don?t forget that the tech existed in the civilian world years before the UN licensed it. The only innovation we contributed was making it affordable.¡± He shrugged. ¡°We could probably make a fortune if we put the streamlined process on the market. But as it sits right now it?s not illegal for someone to get a cube implanted or even duplicate our process. The cube was stolen from our barracks, based on what the coroner communicated to me, and its UN serial number.¡± Ian nodded and crossed his arms. Clive could do a lot of damage with a supercomputer in his head. He could run stock scams for the terrorists, or hack himself into the government systems of every city he toured. No computers or interfaces for police searches to find. Wait a second. Hacking. ¡°I didn?t see any security cameras in there or detect any with my sensors,¡± said Ian, waving his hand at the building. ¡°You sneak some micro drones in there?¡± Rourke revealed his horse teeth again. ¡°Nah. We had no time to deploy something like that. We knew the manager was in town to meet some kind of artist. So we tapped into the eyes of all the soldiers at events in uniform.¡± Ian felt his ears flash with heat. ¡°I didn?t authorize use of my visuals. You know the UN has sanctions against that.¡± ¡°That?s right,¡± said Rourke, still showing those massive teeth. ¡°But we don?t need to ask permission if it might compromise operational security.¡± Fucking op sec. The thought of someone looking through his eyes without him knowing sent fire to Ian?s veins. ¡°You?ve got some good spooks on hand if my sensor package didn?t pick that up.¡± ¡°Any software you buy from the military, I have a switch to turn it off.¡± His smile eased back a little, covering those fucking teeth. ¡°You can shop in the civilian market, but I do have guys on hand for that kind of stuff.¡± Ian took a breath. He¡¯d sold his soul to the UN anyway. The fuck did it matter if privacy was an illusion? ¡°Sure thing, Captain. But I¡¯ve got to know, what did Clive get himself into? I gotta know because I watched them gun down a helpless man right in front of me. That might not ever sit well with me.¡± Rourke stared at Ian for a moment. Ian knew the captain¡¯s eyes had witnessed many atrocities. Some he committed, with or without knowledge. The curse of never knowing your leaders? true intentions. ¡°I?ve already told you all I can. The answers will have to come with time.¡± Op sec. ¡°Oh well. I need to catch a nap anyway before morning duties.¡± ¡°Yes. Get some sleep. I?ll get you answers when the security is lifted.¡± They saluted and said their goodbyes. One of the special forces guys waved at Ian like a tourist as he left. Weirdo. When he reached the blockade, he accepted a police officer?s ride back to base. He sat in the passenger seat and tried to put the pieces together. Rourke?s men shot Clive for a reason. A reason Ian needed to know. Maybe Clive stumbled into this? Civilians were tricked by terrorists to do all kinds of awful things. Or maybe he really did commit something atrocious. An idea formed in Ian?s mind. He could still talk to Clive. Chapter 3: Interrogation ¡°I can?t do that, Sergeant,¡± said Corporal Hines. Ian looked across the displays on the corporal?s desk. This soldier had the access Ian wanted. ¡°Come on, Corporal. I know he?s plugged into the rack. Just set up an interrogation virtual for me.¡± ¡°But I don?t know anything about this cube,¡± said the corporal, pointing to a number on one of his monitors. ¡°If I was allowed to do anything with it, it would show up in my systems.¡± Ian gave the corporal a stare only an NCO of his rank could give. ¡°I?m telling you about it right now. Plug in the cube and fire up the virtual. Give me one of the nicer interrogation rooms. We haven?t talked to this guy yet.¡± ¡°You?re not listening to me, Sergeant,¡± said Hines. He flicked his hand at the tables on a screen. ¡°That cube is not in my system. I?ll have to manually add it, but I need authorization first.¡± ¡°I?m giving you authorization. Do it.¡± ¡°That authority has to come from the captain.¡± Hines leaned forward. ¡°Sergeant. Ian. I?m not supposed to have seen that. Where did you get that cube number?¡± Ian grunted a laugh. ¡°I was involved in the mission to get that cube.¡± He pointed at the monitors. ¡°The captain knows what I know, so we?re not breaching security here.¡± He narrowed his eyes at the corporal. ¡°So long as you don?t tune in on the virtual, and I don?t distribute any information that might compromise operational security, then we?re all in the clear.¡± The corporal stared off for a moment. Three of his four displays were covered with numerous checklists and spreadsheets. The base?s inventory AI had glitched out, and Rourke had assigned Hines to inventory all the supplies needed to maintain the cubes. Dark rims around his eyes informed Ian of the toll taken on his body. ¡°All right.¡± Hines sighed. ¡°I?ll set you up. But I?m logging that you authorized this.¡± He returned Ian?s hard stare. ¡°Fantastic, Corporal. I figured you wanted to stay on my good side.¡± Ian flashed a toothy grin. Hines grimaced. ¡°The captain is far more intimidating than you. I need a distraction right now. I?m giving you an hour to go be a fanboy, then I need to get back to work. All right?¡± ¡°Sure thing, Corporal. Can you triple the time compression?¡± Hines leaned back a little. ¡°Well, yeah. These aren?t half-ass government computers. I can get up to 12 times compression on these rigs if you?re looking to start a long-term relationship.¡± ¡°Triple is fine.¡± Ian waved a hand as he sat down across from Hines and put on a headset. ¡°You?re plugging-in right here?¡± ¡°Why the hell not?¡± He adjusted the headset. ¡°Oh, and if I wake up with dicks drawn on my face, I?ll have you do inventory for the entire base.¡± Hines¡¯ eyes widened as he visibly gulped. ¡°No worries, Sergeant. Just give me a minute here. Okay. Done.¡± Reality vanished, leaving Ian stuck inside his own mind. He felt his body return and he drew a breath. Bright lines traced themselves around the edges of a walled room. They traced more intricate patterns on the ceiling, then the lights materialized behind them. The illumination revealed the brightly colored room. Ian watched as a table and set of chairs appeared out of thin air. The wooden table?s existence spread from one corner and floated out to the other side. A window appeared to his left and Ian watched the lines create trees and a street beyond. The time compression slowed down the world generation. Hines should?ve loaded the world first then switched on the time compression. Whatever. The poor corporal probably hadn?t slept much in the last few days. The lines traced a body on the other side of the table. Clive appeared dressed in a T-shirt and cargo shorts. Clive looked around the room. ¡°Yeah. I saw this coming.¡± He stared at Ian. ¡°I wasn?t expecting you, though.¡± Ian shrugged. ¡°Let?s just say this interview wasn?t planned. And we?re not being recorded or monitored.¡± Clive?s face paled. Ian threw his hands up. ¡°It?s not one of those, man. I swear!¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Clive sat down on one of the chairs and placed his shaking hands on the table. ¡°Yeah, yeah. There?s no reason to. The black troops already know what I know. I?m surprised I?m not erased yet.¡± He looked up at Ian. ¡°So, what?s this? You gonna say you?re sorry or something?¡± ¡°No. I just want to know why they shot you. I mean, why the hell did they send in spec ops after you?¡± Clive shook as he laughed. The color returned to his face. ¡°You stupid motherfucker. You don?t know? You don?t know what the fuck they do at night? Are you like a fucking workhorse with blinders on?¡± Ian felt heat rush to his digital face. ¡°Hey, man. I serve my country. I witnessed atrocities overseas you ain?t ever heard of. I ¨C¡± ¡°Uh huh. Maybe. What about the ones over here? How many times have you seen the black troops in action?¡± Ian took a step back. ¡°Aw, don?t feed me that black troops bullshit. I?m a first responder to any terrorist action in the city.¡± He pointed a thumb at his chest. ¡°If there?s a fight going on, I know about it.¡± Clive shook his head. ¡°You saw them last night. Your so-called spec ops. Covered faces. Invisible troop carriers. Take no prisoners.¡± He pointed down at the table. ¡°There?s your fucking terrorists right here.¡± Ian felt his temples throb as he ground his teeth. ¡°Yeah, sure, buddy. So, what do you do for those Gray Flag terrorists? Run stock scams? Hacking? You got a pretty fancy chipset in your head. They got a nice investment in you.¡± He sat down and took a breath. ¡°Or did they force you into it? Take someone you love? Brainwash you? Reprogram that cube of yours?¡± ¡°I volunteered.¡± Clive?s nostrils flared. ¡°You sure about that?¡± Ian kept his tone even. ¡°Are you really that paranoid about brainwashing? There?s not enough people with access to cubes out there to even learn how to do that. And there is no evidence that?s even possible yet. The only people doing the brainwashing here is your employer.¡± Clive pointed a finger at Ian. ¡°Brainwashed?¡± Ian raised his voice. ¡°I?m on the right side of things here. You don?t know what I?ve done. I?ve dragged people out of burning buildings. I?ve ¨C¡± ¡°Were they civilians or your misled comrades?¡± Clive tilted his head. Ian made fists under the table. ¡°My squad mates.¡± He stared off past Clive. ¡°I?ve also responded to firefights initiated by Gray Flag. I only shoot back when fired on. I tried to save as many as I could, but Gray Flag is so fucking ruthless.¡± Ian trailed off, imagining the shot-up bodies of men, women, and children next to burning buildings. He¡¯d tried to resuscitate anyone who wasn¡¯t in pieces. ¡°Motherfucker, I even tried to save the terrorists.¡± Clive put his hands together and stared at the table. ¡°It might sound hard to believe, but those fights were instigated by black troops. They?d appear out of thin air and fire on us and police alike. They?d be sure to leave no one alive who saw them clearly.¡± Images of the masked troops running through the cafeteria flooded Ian?s mind. Their relentless assault on two unarmed citizens. And then that casual wave as Ian departed. ¡°If you?re a first responder,¡± said Clive, ¡°then you probably read conflicting reports. Heard absurd statements. Saw a volume of fire inconsistent with Gray Flag tactics.¡± Clive let another moment of silence pass. ¡°Maybe I should start from the beginning. How much time do we have?¡± Ian drew a breath. ¡°About three hours, but I can extend that dramatically if needed.¡± ¡°No need to.¡± Clive?s research started during the UN?s overseas campaign. He started finding news articles pointing to possible corporate interests for the invasion. He poked around on the deep web, asking questions. When the terror crusade moved to the states, Gray Flag sought him out. He initially refused and bought the terrorist rhetoric. Then Gray Flag showed him footage of the black troop raids. People uploaded them to the deep web whenever they could, but they didn?t advertise the links. Intelligence agencies all over the world went on a search-and-destroy mission for the footage, claiming it to be a terrorist manipulation campaign. They claimed that Gray Flag posed as spec ops and committed the atrocities themselves. Clive worked to keep their websites active while the government hijacked both the surface and deep web. Black troops went all over the world to physically destroy servers. They fought to conquer all information sources. ¡°So, what?s the endgame?¡± asked Ian. ¡°What is the UN to gain from all that violence?¡± Ian didn?t really buy it. The people he fought against overseas weren?t informed twentysomethings out to make a point. Supply and territorial disputes ravaged civilian populations. He flew over to put a stop to the chaos. He explained that as best he could to Clive. ¡°All that stuff was real, I won?t deny that,¡± said Clive. ¡°But it was all UN interests they were trying to free themselves from. Unfortunately, they resorted to savage tactics after negotiations failed. Negotiations you guys were never told about.¡± He held up a hand to stop Ian. ¡°And about the endgame, it?s all about complete control of information. If they control the flow of information, then as far as the masses are concerned, they control reality.¡± He shrugged. ¡°They wanted my cube because it has most of our server addresses on it. At this point, I?m pretty much fucking useless. The servers will move or change soon, I hope. We?ll lose quite a few of them, but not the data. I?m just waiting to be erased at this point.¡± Ian nodded. He couldn?t imagine how Clive felt. It?s one thing to wait for a bullet, it?s another thing to wait for complete deletion. Waiting for someone to erase your existence with the push of a button. At least a trigger pull came with recoil and a dead body. ¡°Thanks for all that,¡± said Ian. ¡°I really mean that. I don?t know what to believe at this point and I still doubt you, but I want to look into this. I?ll go speak with my captain.¡± Clive?s eyes widened. ¡°Captain Rourke?¡± ¡°Yeah. He?s my commanding officer. I?ll try to get some basic questions answered, nothing too deep.¡± Clive stared at his hands. ¡°Be careful. No need to be a hero here.¡± Ian stood up and winked. ¡°That?s my day job, remember?¡± Clive rolled his eyes before reality itself vanished. Chapter 4: One of the Good Guys Ian caught up with Rourke coming through the south entrance. The captain?s posture had withered from the late night. ¡°I have a few questions for you, Captain,¡± said Ian. Rourke snorted. ¡°Just make it quick. It?s been a long night.¡± He leaned against the plaster wall. Their base used to be an office complex. ¡°How long have the spec ops guys been here?¡± asked Ian. ¡°I haven?t seen them out here before.¡± ¡°That?s because they?re stationed outside of town. They?ve been here a little while. A few weeks maybe. They mostly run recon outside the city.¡± Ian nodded. ¡°That makes sense. Have they ever run into any other firefights? Anything I might?ve stumbled on?¡± ¡°Outside the city, yeah,¡± said Rourke. ¡°Nothing you would?ve heard about.¡± He massaged his temples. ¡°What?s this mean to you?¡± ¡°I just want an idea of what?s going on.¡± Ian shrugged. ¡°We?ve been told there weren?t any assault type outfits operating in this region.¡± A squad of five moved past them to replace the evening patrol around base. Rourke stared down at Ian, the patches under his eyes swollen. ¡°There are things you?re told, and then there are things you don?t know. You don?t know about special operations, and until recently, neither did I.¡± He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. ¡°I think you just need to let this pass and forget everything you saw tonight.¡± ¡°I don?t think I?m ever going to put this behind me, Captain.¡± ¡°Oh, it?s going to be burned into your nightmares for the rest of your fucking life, I guarantee you. But what you need to remember is that you?re one of the good guys, and you can?t possibly understand how the enemy truly operates.¡± Rourke pointed out the south door. ¡°The guys out there. The guys that roam the night doing what needs to be done, they understand. They?ve seen a lot more than you, and they are more than justified in their actions.¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°The black troops?¡± Rourke grinned, revealing those horse teeth under dark-rimmed eyes. ¡°So, you?ve been talking to someone? I figured this would happen. Clive Wales doesn?t know much, beyond the little bit of data we extracted from his cube. He?s a propagator of lies and misdirection. Kind of like what he preaches against in his own music. His imagined enemy is the new world order or some bullshit.¡± Ian felt heat rise in his ears, but didn?t speak out to the captain. ¡°I don?t see the point in keeping him around on the rack,¡± said Rourke. ¡°I think the most humane thing to do at this point would be destruction of the cube.¡± Ian stiffened. ¡°Don?t freak out. The only reason he?d even stay on rack would be in case spec ops wanted to interrogate him. You sure as hell don?t want that, right?¡± Ian shook his head. The virtuals no one speaks of came to mind. ¡°I?m glad you understand,¡± said Rourke. ¡°Because I?m going to have you dispose of the cube.¡± Ian?s eyes widened. His heart jumped at the surge of adrenaline. Rourke wanted him to press the button. To delete Clive?s existence with a fucking keyboard. ¡°Couldn?t Hines take care of that?¡± asked Ian. ¡°He?s supervising the rack.¡± Rourke shook his head. ¡°He?s got enough on his plate. Quite frankly, he?s more squeamish about it than you are. Get it done for Clive?s sake. You spoke with him. I highly doubt he begged for his life. He resigned himself to this fate when he had the cube installed.¡± Breathing out, Ian nodded. ¡°You?re right. I?ll get it done.¡± ¡°Good,¡± said Rourke. ¡°Take care of that and then try to get some sleep. I?m going to crash myself. My reports can wait till the morning.¡± Rourke brushed past Ian without waiting for a salute. The captain looked like he¡¯d fought for several days straight as he stumbled down the hall. What the fuck had he been doing since Ian got back? Execution. Ian didn?t mind gunning down someone in a firefight, even as the aggressor. But Rourke wanted him to do the most cold-blooded thing he could possibly think of. He didn?t sign up to execute people. Rourke had asked for Clive?s deletion right after Ian brought up the black troops. Who did Ian have to believe? Clive?s story didn?t fit Ian?s own experience, but the black troops moved through his own memories. Rourke wouldn?t acknowledge or deny them. He gave them a different name. What else does Clive know about the black troops, the special forces? Ian walked past the armored door protecting the storage racks. He maneuvered around the disabled retrieval arms and found Clive?s cube. He stared at it for a minute, his thoughts a mess. Clive knew something. He needed another virtual, but not from Hines. He pocketed the cube and made for his own quarters. ¡°I?m one of the good guys.¡± Chapter 5: A Private Place ¡°Where the hell are we now?¡± asked Clive. He looked around at the white walls of the empty room. Ian forced a smile. ¡°My personal virtual. It doesn?t really have the bandwidth for two people.¡± ¡°I can see that.¡± Clive looked at Ian. ¡°Or more like, I can?t see anything. Could you make this place any duller?¡± ¡°I can change the color of the walls. Maybe add some furniture. No windows or surrounding environment. I?m pushing the system hard for a triple-time compression.¡± Clive crossed his arms. ¡°So, you?re doing that again? Do you have any real questions for me?¡± Ian paced the tiny room. Despite having a virtual body, he felt tired. His mind needed rest. ¡°I want to know more about the black troops,¡± said Ian. ¡°I confronted Captain Rourke about them. He?s not telling me something. Or anything, really.¡± Clive cocked his head. ¡°Did you expect him to?¡± ¡°He didn?t deny them. He more or less referred to them as special forces.¡± Ian shrugged. ¡°That?s because...¡± Clive sighed. ¡°I hate to admit it, but you?re not stupid, and Rourke must think you?re an asset to him if he?s keeping you around after seeing so much.¡± ¡°Maybe he?s keeping me around, because there isn?t anything major to hide from me,¡± said Ian, grinning. Clive snorted. ¡°Or maybe you really are stupid enough to manipulate. Maybe he even plans on convincing you that the black troops are the good guys, and you?re going to help or work for them soon.¡± He raised his arms and displayed his palms. ¡°You know what? You already do. You spread the very bullshit I?m trying to stop, or was trying to stop. You?re talking to a dead man you helped kill.¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°I?ve done nothing but help people since I got here,¡± blurted Ian. ¡°Really? What about all those menial tasks you?ve done at base that you didn?t really understand? What about those situations you responded to where things weren?t clear? Are you sure you were helping? Did you fully understand what you were doing?¡± Clive crossed his arms and leaned back. ¡°Do you know exactly what happened tonight?¡± Ian stared at the blank floor. Murder. Calculated, precise, murder. Or Clive wanted him to think that. Rourke?s words echoed in his mind. Ian matched Clive¡¯s stare. ¡°So, tell me what I don?t know. What are the black troops doing here and elsewhere on the coast?¡± Clive shrugged. ¡°I knew their exact plans, but they?ve probably already changed at this point. They?re not after the servers. Regular troops can take care of those. They?re trying to cut off the sources of information, like myself.¡± He winced. ¡°And apparently they know about our cubes. We?ve gotten desperate for more discrete forms of storage, but now that the info?s out they probably know who has them. So, they target anyone spreading or storing information that might hurt the UN.¡± He made that open palm gesture again. ¡°To sum it up, they?re hitmen.¡± Ian?s mind again went back to the soldiers in the cafeteria. Did spreading propaganda justify an assassination like that? Rourke didn?t deny Clive?s accusations. Bright lines traced the shape of a man next to Clive. Rourke appeared standing tall. ¡°Staff Sergeant Taylor,¡± said Rourke. ¡°You?re not following my orders.¡± Ian fought back his shock. ¡°I had a few more questions before I carried it out.¡± Clive stepped back and stared at the two soldiers. Rourke sighed. ¡°There?s nothing he can tell you that I don?t plan on telling you myself. Let?s just destroy this cube and move forward.¡± ¡°I?m not an object, man,¡± said Clive. Rourke stared down at the musician. ¡°You?ve been dehumanized ever since you chose to become an enemy of the United Nations. You?re lucky your treatment is as humane as it is.¡± Clive stabbed a finger at the captain. ¡°Hey, fuck you. I fight for my country, not some fucked-up global organization.¡± Ian waved his arms. ¡°Captain! You?re gonna blow my system! It can?t handle three people at this time compression. Shut it down or release control back to me.¡± ¡°Relax,¡± said Rourke. ¡°I?m patched in from another system.¡± He grinned. ¡°This is a fun way to spook soldiers that spend too much time in their private virtuals.¡± His grin faded when it got no response. ¡°All right, looks like I?m going to have to walk you down to the rack and make sure you get this done.¡± Rourke pulled Ian?s connection and reality exploded into a billion bright particles. Chapter 6: Walk the Line Ian clutched Clive?s cube as he led the way to the rack. Rourke trailed a few paces behind him, exasperation seeping its way into his movements. When they reached the armored door, another soldier interrupted them. ¡°Howdy, Sergeant!¡± said the soldier. He held out his hand and shook Ian?s with a fervor that matched his voice. ¡°Howdy, Captain!¡± He shook the captain?s hand with equal enthusiasm. Ian didn?t know this soldier. No name or rank appeared on his uniform. He calmed a bit as he spoke to the captain. ¡°I need to talk to you about something that came up tonight. And no, it can?t wait.¡± He rolled his eyes at his last point. Rourke pointed at the armored door. ¡°I?m busy cleaning up this night?s mess.¡± ¡°Great! You can wait out here behind the door with me.¡± The soldier stepped back and opened the armored door, to Ian?s surprise. Ian knew every single person on base with access to the storage and medical rooms. The soldier bowed and ushered with both hands towards the door. ¡°Your duty awaits you, sire.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Ian paused before stepping through the doorway. He looked back and saw Captain Rourke standing on the other side with no intention to move as the door creaked shut and locked itself. Why did Rourke listen to that weirdo? Ian looked through the small viewport and watched the soldier give him an overhand wave, reaching for the ceiling and bouncing it side to side as if flagging down a vehicle. Ian made it halfway through the storage room before the realization hit him. That fucking wave. He recalled the masked soldier waving at him as he walked down the street towards the police barricade. He¡¯d just met one of the spec ops. Rourke?s reaction felt even stranger. He sighed and continued towards the back wall. No point in dwelling on it. Those troops had nothing to do with him anyway. A special machine lay dormant in the far corner. A small shelf above it held a handful of cubes, shipped from all around this region to be processed at this machine. It looked to Ian like a bandsaw, but instead of a blade, the top piece housed the laser. A clamp protruded from the table. Ian set Clive?s cube in the clamp and fired up the machine. Chapter 7: Keep Following The machine sent power to the cube and the clamp rotated under the laser. Ian looked at a screen off to the side for the last calibration date. Clive?s wide-eyed face appeared. Ian shot back. ¡°Ian, stop!¡± Clive?s body floated in empty space. ¡°There?s a way around this.¡± Ian steadied himself. ¡°I can?t. And... how the hell are you doing this?¡± Clive took a few breaths in his little virtual. ¡°I?ve got some decent hacking modules installed on my cube. The defenses in this section of the building are pretty shit. I guess whoever built this room assumed the light security was okay because there?s no outside connection.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Listen, I have a plan that can get us both out of this.¡± ¡°There is no getting out of this,¡± said Ian. He tried to fight back tears. ¡°My commanding officer is right outside the door. If I don?t do this, he will. I?m sorry. My back?s against the wall.¡± He pulled up another system menu screen, trying to deploy countermeasures.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Ian, do you really want to do this? Didn?t you tell me earlier that you were one of the good guys? Is that how you really feel right now? Standing there, acting as the executioner?¡± Ian stopped typing. What the fuck was he doing? Following orders. Doing whatever Rourke said because he feared to do otherwise. ¡°I have to do this.¡± ¡°I thought you saved people,¡± said Clive. ¡°That?s what you said to me, that you?re a hero and that you save people. Is that what you?re doing right now?¡± ¡°Shut the fuck up,¡± growled Ian. ¡°You?re already dead.¡± Ian found the system?s countermeasures. ¡°Just hear me out for 30 seconds. This room is directly connected to the transfer center next door. I can stage a security glitch at both doors and give us enough time for a pair of cube swaps.¡± Ian leaned back. ¡°What?¡± The idea sounded insane. Put Clive in one of the cloned bodies? He couldn?t pull that off. ¡°That won?t work. Your cube doesn?t have the proper security measures installed. It won?t take to the cloned bodies.¡± Clive nodded. ¡°I know. But your body is original, with no security in place.¡± It came to Ian. ¡°Oh,¡± he said. ¡°I get it now.¡± ¡°I?m locking the doors now. Get over to the transfer center and set yourself up. I can handle the rest from here.¡± Chapter 8: Big Man Rourke wrestled through the armored doorway. ¡°What the hell happened?¡± he asked. Sweat trickled down the side of his red face. ¡°I?ve been on the radio for a fucking hour trying to get these doors open.¡± ¡°I?ve been trying to get them open, too,¡± said Ian, shaking his head. ¡°What did Hines say? Did he fuck something up trying to get the automated systems online?¡± Rourke took a few breaths. He must?ve been screaming into the radio nonstop. ¡°He denies messing with the security systems. Says he just tried to get the inventory servers back on, as well as the automated machinery.¡± Rourke waved at one of the robot arms. ¡°As far as I know this is a separate self-contained system, so I know he fucked something up.¡± He marched to the back of the room. ¡°All right, show me the cube. You had plenty of time to get this done.¡± Ian handed Rourke a laser burned cube and Rourke held it in front of his face for a moment. ¡°Well the numbers match.¡± He patted Ian on the shoulder, making him flinch. ¡°I?m glad you finally came around. Like I said, you?ll have your answers soon.¡± He gestured back at the doorway. ¡°Now let?s get some sleep before that weird asshole comes back, and before these doors seal themselves again. I?m gonna give Hines a few more inventory tasks.¡± They marched down the hall and towards the armored door of the transfer center. Rourke activated the door. ¡°What?s wrong?¡± asked Ian. ¡°I want to make sure this door works and everything in here is okay.¡± Ian?s eyes widened. ¡°But what if the door locks behind us?¡± Rourke grinned. ¡°Then Hines is going to be given a year?s worth of paperwork. He?ll forget how to strip his rifle when he?s finally done processing actual paper.¡± As they stepped through the door, an antiseptic smell invaded their nostrils. Rourke wrinkled his nose. ¡°Ew. I can?t fucking stand this place.¡± He looked over the equipment and monitors. ¡°Did we recently bring someone back?¡± ¡°Sergeant K¡­Kane,¡± said Ian. ¡°Right,¡± said Rourke. ¡°I forgot. Between that cloned body and his lame personality I can?t pick him out in a crowd.¡± Rourke shrugged. ¡°Honestly, I avoid working with cloned bodies. They?re so fucking creepy. I gotta see about getting them altered or something. Put some fucking identity into them.¡± Ian gave a series of nods. ¡°Yeah, yeah. I feel the same way.¡± ¡°I thought you said they didn?t bother you?¡± Rourke raised his eyebrows. ¡°Said you could easily pick people out by the way they moved and carried themselves, or some bullshit like that.¡± Ian shrugged. ¡°I guess the truth comes out when I?m tired.¡± ¡°Ha!¡± Rourke waved a hand at him. ¡°I think we just make shit up as we go along. Let?s try to get a nap before morning.¡± Ian followed Rourke out of the transfer center. As they made their way down the hall towards the barracks, a uniformed soldier stepped out of the showers and saluted. ¡°Morning, Captain.¡± ¡°Evening.¡± Rourke tilted his head to read the soldier?s name patch. ¡°Sergeant Kane.¡± He looked Kane up and down. ¡°There?s not a patrol change at this hour is there?¡± Kane shook his head. ¡°No, sir. Morning duties start in a few hours and I need to get a jump on some paperwork.¡± Kane remained at attention. ¡°Whatever,¡± said Rourke as he turned away. ¡°Just don?t bother me for a couple of hours and tell everyone else the same. It?s been a long fucking night.¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Kane saluted at the captain¡¯s back and watched the two walk away. Rourke shuddered. ¡°That creepy fucking pale skin. I really need to do something about that.¡± He turned to Ian. ¡°Do you remember what Kane said about his body? I know he likes it, but I can?t remember why.¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Ian put his hands up. ¡°I don?t remember, sir.¡± ¡°What?¡± Rourke stopped and stared at the Staff Sergeant. ¡°Are you okay, Ian? Did burning that cube traumatize you that bad?¡± Ian winced. ¡°No, Captain. I just really, really need some sleep.¡± ¡°You?re not kidding.¡± Rourke put a hand to his mouth and whistled. ¡°Hey, Kane!¡± *** Ian fought the urge to collapse as he stood by the lockers in the cloned body. He found Sergeant Kane¡¯s locker and donned his uniform after he scrubbed the preservative goop from the body storage. A migraine threatened in the back of his eyes as his mind tried to adapt to the new host. Everything felt different. Everything looked different. Colors appeared off in both eyes. Ian even found distance hard to judge. Clive said his brain needed time to adapt to the new body¡¯s structures. Clive had the newer model cube and strode out of the room in Ian¡¯s body like he¡¯d just changed clothes. That fucker. Ian also picked the worst person to imitate, Krazy Kane. That guy went through coffee like an Abrams burned through gas. How could Ian mimic Kane¡¯s jitteriness when he felt like he just did squats for an hour? Luckily, Captain Rourke had walked by without giving Ian a second look. He knew cloned bodies freaked him out. Once Rourke and Clive got further ahead, he¡¯d trail behind until they separated. Then he¡¯d grab Clive and get the fuck out. Going AWOL felt terrible, but so did being asked to execute a defenseless civilian. That was never in his job description. If Rourke could cross that line blatantly for one of his closest NCOs, what did he do behind Ian¡¯s back? Only Clive could answer. Ian let out his breath as Rourke and Clive reached the end of hall. The two stopped and chatted, Rourke looking concerned at Clive. Ian felt like he was watching a trippy film of himself. He didn¡¯t bother trying to listen with his half-awake ears. His heart sank as Rourke turned to him and whistled. ¡°Hey, Kane!¡± Fuck. Ian ambled over, each leg feeling like fifty kilos of numb flesh as he struggled to maintain posture. He did his best to imitate Kane¡¯s spastic speech. ¡°What can I do for you, sir? Reports from Hines? Coffee? Amphetamines?¡± ¡°Fuck no.¡± Rourke¡¯s lips scrunched together. ¡°Your new body ¨C¡± ¡°Yes, sir! I love it! I?m in the best shape of my life. Never better. Never fitter. Never had more energy. Never ¨C¡± Rourke put up a hand. ¡°Kane, for fuck¡¯s sake. When did you get put into the new body? I?m drawing a blank here.¡± Ian nodded far too many times. ¡°Yes, sir. Let me think here. March 16. I was noodle-legged for a few days, and then I haven?t felt better since!¡± Rourke placed a hand on the wall and looked Kane up and down. ¡°I could?ve sworn it was early April.¡± He stared off. ¡°You?re pretty stiff this morning. I don?t think I?ve ever seen you not bouncing around. It?s like standing still drains your life force or something.¡± Ian nodded again. ¡°Sir, I haven?t had my coffee yet. I helped Hines a bit yesterday, and it was quite a drain.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Rourke reached out and dropped his meaty hand on Ian¡¯s shoulder. Ian¡¯s knees buckled and he reached out for the wall with both hands to steady himself. ¡°Noodle-legged?¡± Rourke showed off those fucking horse teeth. ¡°Think you?re smarter than me, Ian?¡± ¡°I think I am.¡± Clive drove his fist into Rourke?s face. Rourke stumbled back and reached for his pistol. Ian grabbed at it, his weak hands unable to get a grip on the cool metal. He threw his weight into Rourke and slammed him against the wall. A deafening burst of fire rang down the halls. Ian staggered back and slumped against the wall on the other side. His hands clutched wounds in his chest and gut. Rourke stood there, eyes wide. Shaking himself, he turned in Clive?s direction. ¡°Don?t worry. I?m sorry, Ian, but¨C¡± Clive pistol-whipped the captain across the side of the head, knocking him out. The big man slumped to the floor. ¡°I?ll be right back,¡± said Clive. He grabbed the captain by the ankles and dragged him back down the hall, grunting the whole way. It felt like an hour before he returned. ¡°What did you do with the captain?¡± croaked Ian. He coughed blood onto Kane¡¯s uniform. Clive kneeled down. ¡°I locked him in the transfer station, his favorite place.¡± He picked Ian up off the ground. The new body had little muscle tissue or fat, allowing Clive to move at a light jog. ¡°Man, you?re in really good shape.¡± Clive eased them through a set of double doors. The fringes of Ian?s vision darkened. Colors faded away. The blood rushing in his ears grew louder with every step Clive made. ¡°I pull people from burning buildings, remember?¡± Ian whispered. He closed his eyes until he felt the outside air. From what he could tell, they went out the north entrance to the rear courtyard. He felt them enter a small dusty building. The gardener?s toolshed? When Clive set him on the ground, Ian started another coughing fit. He spoke in between gasps of air. ¡°I don?t think you?re gonna find medical supplies in here. You might as well just make a run for it. They?ll either put me in a new body, or have me deleted.¡± Between his fading vision and the dim light, Ian couldn?t make out anything in the shed. He heard Clive working an ancient pull-start engine. ¡°What the fuck are you doing? I think they just cut the grass.¡± The shed filled with a roar Ian had heard in horror movies. ¡°Clive! What the fuck are you doing? That?s not a good weapon!¡± Clive walked into view with the revving chainsaw. ¡°I?m sorry, but this is the only chance you got.¡± He moved closer with the chainsaw pointing at Ian. ¡°Just lean back and it will be over in a second.¡± ¡°Clive. Wait. Clive. Clive ¨C¡± Ian leaned back until his head hit the concrete floor. The spinning chain drew closer and closer to his eyes. He wailed as the teeth tore through his eye sockets.