Ben Chaney - Son of Sedonia

“But the Designator already…”

“We’re gonna take another look and see what’s going on here, okay? Now do a pass,” Shima said. The medic reached to the wall and took a device that hung from a hook there. It looked like a pistol handle with a broad, flat-nosed barrel. Matteo tensed as the man walked toward him and knelt. He grabbed Matteo’s head, pressed the device to it, and pulled the trigger. A yellow-orange screen materialized off the side of the scanner. Numbers, graphs, and images flickered to life.

“Oh yeah. This kid’s definitely been augged… from birth it looks like,” said the medic. Matteo gaped at the man through the corner of his eye and tried to turn and see the screen. The medic wrenched Matteo’s head back in place, pressing fingers hard into his skull.

“Let me see that…” Shima knelt to look, “Nah, bullshit. Had to be stolen… maybe in one of those boosted freighters last month. Check the forearm.” They released Matteo’s head and yanked his arm out. Turned it palm up to the scanner.

“Shit,” said the medic, “Designator missed this little guy too… a full blown RFID… must’ve tripped the fail-safe or something after he got dosed.” On the screen, Matteo saw through the flesh in his forearm. A tiny white object sat between two bones. A crosshair appeared on-screen over the object followed by an electronic beep. Text appeared on-screen.

Remote Frequency Identity activated…

Chip reboot confirmed…

Aden William Rindal

Male / DOB: 06-20-2062

8842 Mesa Ridge Block 2A

Sedonia City

Emergency Contacts:

Alan and Patricia Rindal

(8040)36.257.9816

Blood Type: AB Negative

Software Update 6.682 Available!

Querying remote servers. Please wait…

“Shut it down!” Shima yelled.

“That’s against protocol…I can’t just—”

“SHUT IT DOWN!” The medic fumbled with the buttons on the device. Matteo panicked. Glowing windows, buttons, and bits of text appeared all around him like a bad hallucination. The guards were surrounded by it too. A high-pitched squeal preceded a loud thump. Matteo felt his arm stiffen, then return to normal. Something that had brightened in his brain went suddenly dark again. The visions vanished.

“EMP?” Shima asked. The Doc nodded, “Good. Hopefully we caught it in time…” Shima said.

“Come again?”

“He’s an identity thief, numbnuts. That’s why they used to carry the bodies off when some poor Citizen crashed in their backyard. They call their techs ‘Lifters.’ These guys carve a chip out of a vic’s arm, bootstrap it to a homebrew console, and hack the bio-signatures to match whoever they want. DNA syncs up and everything. So then the bastards sneak into the Net and start cleaning out accounts, or worse, try to jump the Border. Heavy shit, but we’ve seen it before.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about, man?! I never went to no Lifter! I’ve never seen that thing before in my li—!” Matteo shouted, cut off as Shima backhanded him across the face. Matteo spat blood. Then started wheezing. He grasped inside for something to explain this. Anything. I’m losin’ it! That stuff they shot me with… this is still a dream!

“Like I was sayin.’ You let that update go through, and some family in town gets a message saying that their long lost loved one’s not so dead after all. In fact, they’re alive and well in a lunar penal colony! Imagine their surprise when they find out a cop-killing Sway addict butchered their family for the copper, silicon, and plastic in their arms,” said Shima. The medic looked down at the scanner, then to Matteo.

“Maybe… but the neurotech… the RFID? Both hard as hell to get to work in tandem, and both functioning together in one guy from the Slums. What if he is this… Rindal? Like a kidnap vic or something?”

“No way. Look at him,” Shima grabbed Matteo’s head and jerked it to face the medic, “I’ve been fighting tooth and nail with these scumbags for the better part of a decade. I know how they move. I know how they think,” Shima sniffed, “How they smell.” He released Matteo’s head, stood, then wiped his hands on his flak vest.

“This piece of shit is 100% Grade F Rasalla, and some of my best friends are in the morgue or rotting in the street because of trash like him. Toss ’em in with the others, and finish the rest without me. It’s been a hell of a day, and I wanna be back planet-side before last call.” Shima limped off past the silent doctor. A guard approached Matteo and stuck him with a stun baton. The familiar slackness spread through Matteo’s body, but he allowed himself to sink into it this time. I’m dreaming. I gotta be. I’ll wake up soon, eat some shitty rice, and head for the Pits… Please wake up. Please…

“Uh, Shims?” said the medic.

“What.”

“Can’t put him in with gen pop… if the dose didn’t take, he’s a security risk. Gotta send him up to Decom,” said the Medic. Shima turned a grin directly at Matteo.

“Even better.”

They picked Matteo up and shackled him into a harness chair pod, separate from Suomo and a long queue of others in the hall. Two by two, they filed through a plate-steel hatch door at the end. A track in the floor under the chair pod told Matteo he was headed elsewhere. He felt the dull sensation of a pat on the shoulder. A sneering voice whispered in his ear.

“Welcome to the Moon.”

THE LIMO HOVERED to a graceful stop on the landing pad of the prestigious Plateau Ballroom, one of the crown jewels of the Mesa’s upper levels. Kabbard exited first into the full moonlight, wearing a jet black tux but none of the poise. He all but ripped the passenger door off its gull-wing hinges to allow Mr. and Mrs. Enota Sato to step out onto the pad. Sato touched the man on the shoulder and leaned in to an ear.

“Easy, Kabby, I don’t like this any more than you do,” Sato said. Kabbard seethed as he avoided eye-contact, turned, and gently shut the limo door. The craft lifted and then dipped away as the three of them walked toward the red carpeted bridge to the main entrance.

“So concerned for him? What about me? I’m the one who has to squeeze myself into this… lovely frock you say you love so much,” Jada fussed with the creases over her plump hips and belly. The dress was the color of ripe plums with tiny pearls inset around the collar. Its velvet folds soft to the touch. Sato wrapped an arm around her as they walked, hiding his signature caress of her curves. It calmed him.

“You look wonderful,” he told her, smiling to the security guards that stood beside each of the tall, flowing lamp posts along the path. She wrapped her gloved hand around his, tugging it to her stomach. Sato felt a pang, remembering the miscarriage. It was his public reason for the nervous breakdown six years ago, but a contributing factor all the same. Jada had kept her head held high throughout the ordeal. The strength of this woman.

“You sweet, sweet man… I do hope this evening won’t be too painful for you,” she said.

“The press and half of Congress breathing down my neck about this Rasalla business, and Finley throws a damn party. I can’t wait to see the headlines…”

“You knew this was coming,” Jada turned his wedding band between her thumb and forefinger, “People only like violence when the good guys don’t get hurt. But the effect will be the same, and you need to keep Elias happy so they didn’t die for nothing.”

“Right…” said Sato. His eyes drifted up beyond the lamp posts to the Moon. Its historical ‘face’ gone, replaced by geometric patterns… like aerial photos of dead, gray farmland. He sighed. The broad, arched doorway to the ballroom loomed ahead. Above it, a one-hundred-fifty foot tall glass dome bulged up into the night sky. Its hexagonal ribs were nearly invisible due to the golden glow coming from inside.