Steven Harper - Trickster

Ben shut down the projector that created a holographic warning ring around the entrance to the maintenance tunnel, gathered up his satchel, and strolled casually away. When he was sure no one was watching, he ducked into an alley-it was clean and well-swept-and removed his coveralls. Beneath them he wore an expensive-looking suit. He sprayed the coveralls with disintegration enzyme, dragged a comb through his hair, and crossed the street, carrying his tool satchel like an overnight bag. A revolving door made of glass and gold spun slowly ahead of him, and a line of cabs stretched up the street waiting for fares. Ben nodded to the blue-clad doorman and entered the hotel. A few minutes later, he was knocking on one of the rooms. It opened a crack, and a blue eye peered suspiciously at him.

"What's the password?"

"Your mother," Ben said.

Gretchen opened the door with a sigh. "You're no fun," she grumped.

The hotel room was small, sporting a single room, small desk, and two wide beds. Lucia was sitting at the desk, which had a holographic computer display hovering over it. Four rubber thumbs sat nearby, each one a different color. Vidya and Prasad both lounged on one of the beds.

"Ta da!" Lucia said, gesturing at the display with one scarred hand. It said, Please insert key and scan print. "I figured you'd want the honors."

Ben nodded. "I'd better get started. Vidya and Prasad, I'll need you two in just a minute. Everyone be ready to run in case something goes wrong. Ready?"

"Get on with it, already," Gretchen said.

Lucia vacated the desk and Ben took her place. His muscles were tense, and he had to force himself to unclench his jaw. Like the situation with the copycat, there was no way to test the print and key system. A mistake here, however, would bring consequences much more serious than being forced to hide under another bed. Taking a deep breath and trying to banish a mental image of Kendi's broken body being fed into a recycling vat, Ben pressed the red rubber thumb to the data pad's scanner and slotted Roon's key. Lucia murmured to herself and clutched the little icon of Irfan around her neck. Ben's tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth, and he found himself saying a quick prayer of his own.

The pad beeped twice and the display winked out. Ben tensed and Gretchen was already halfway to the door when the display winked back on.

Access approved, it said. Good afternoon, Mr. Roon.

"No vocal output," Vidya muttered. Her voice was perfectly steady.

"Maybe it annoys him. God." Ben felt limp as wilted leaf. " Looks like it worked, at any rate. Give me a few minutes."

With Lucia watching over his shoulder, Ben fiddled with the system, quickly familiarizing himself with file locations and downloading whatever caught his eye. Occasionally he paused to read.

"Roon has a private ship," Lucia said, pointing at the display. "It's heavily armed, too. Will that matter, do you think?"

"No idea," Ben replied. "I'll make sure Kendi knows, though."

A moment later, Ben came across a book in the file lists. He copied it to a small disk, which he tossed to Gretchen. "Take a look at this."

Gretchen caught it and slotted it into her own data pad. " A True History of the Dream, by Dr. Edsard Roon. What the hell? Roon's a doctor?"

"There," Prasad said. He was standing next to Gretchen. "The fine print says 'Dr.' stands for 'Dreamer.' "

"Roon isn't Silent," Lucia said. "We hacked his medical records first thing."

They continued to talk while Ben worked. First he called up personnel files-all the workers involved with the Collection, he noticed, were human-and found two men and a woman who had been recently laid off. He deleted most of their basic information and substituted information on Vidya and Prasad instead-DNA sequences, ID holograms, and personal communication codes. He did the same for the third person, but uploaded an entirely different set of codes. Then he called over Vidya and Prasad so he could scan their prints and record their voices.

"Cross your fingers," Ben said. "I'm going to log off Roon and log on as Mallory in Security so I can bump up your clearance level."

But the blue thumb and fake key worked perfectly. A few moments later, Ben handed Vidya and Prasad a set of ID holograms.

"These will get you in and out of the Collection," Ben told them. "You were laid off, but in about half an hour you're going to get an automated message recalling you to work for this evening's shift."

"Who is that one for?" Vidya pointed at the third ID holo.

"I'm not supposed to say," Ben said, and slipped the holo into his pocket. "Next up-maps and diagrams from information tech."

The green thumb, which bore Elena Papagos-Faye's print, also worked as advertised, and in a few moments, Ben had a complete set of blueprints and diagrams for the entire Collection. Ben logged off the system, shut it down, and ran a relieved hand through his hair.

"We're done," he said.

"All that sweat to get keys and prints, and it only took ten minutes to get what we needed?" Gretchen said. "You didn't even use the yellow thumb."

"We don't need to access research and medical quite yet," Ben said. "Or so Kendi says."

Gretchen leveled a hard look at him. "You don't know the whole plan either, do you?"

"No. But Kendi will tell us what we need to know when we need to know it."

"I'm sensing reluctance," Gretchen smirked. "You're as ticked as I am. Admit it."

"I trust Kendi."

"Of course you do," Gretchen scoffed. "You're both still Silent and Kendi's still your goddammed-"

"Sister Gretchen!" Lucia interrupted, stepping in front of Ben and leveling a hard look of her own. "I think we're done here, don't you?"

Gretchen met her gaze and ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth with small smacking noises. After a long moment, she said, "Yeah. I think we're done. You do what you need to, church girl. I'm going back to the ship."

And she stomped out of the room.

"What was that about?" Prasad asked.

"I can't be angry at her," Lucia said absently. "She's lost too much."

Ben, who was struggling to keep his own temper, took a deep breath and nodded. "Agreed. I just hope she can finish her part in this."

"She will," Lucia said. "I think this sort of thing is all that keeps her going."

Harenn pressed the dermospray to Bedj-ka's arm and pressed the release. The drugs thumped home. Bedj-ka rubbed his arm, then rubbed his nose.

"I gave you medication to relieve your cough and fever along with the anti-viral," Harenn said. "You will be fine after a good night's sleep."

She turned to the small crate on the counter behind her. The words Biological Agent: Handle With Care marched along the side like red soldiers, and Harenn opened the top as if it might explode.

"Can I talk to my dad?" Bedj-ka asked behind her.

Harenn closed her eyes. It was the question she had been dreading. She pushed the crate aside and laid her palms on the cool counter top without looking around. "Why?"

"I want to see him," Bedj-ka replied. "I want to find out why he did it."

"It is a poor idea, my son." Harenn turned around. Her stomach felt like a ball of heavy ice. "He will only say things that hurt you. Perhaps later you will understand why I cannot let you-"

Bedj-ka's jaw firmed, and in that moment he looked amazingly like Isaac. "I want to see him. You said I can make my own choices now that I'm free."

"Within reasonable limits, yes."

"Mater and Pater said the same thing in the Enclave."

"It is hardly the same thing. You know this very well."

"All I know is you won't let me see my dad."

Her first crisis as a mother. Harenn had often watched other parents deal with problems among their children and felt a stab of envy. Now that it was happening to her, however, she found herself wishing the situation would go away. The whole thing was a trap. If she agreed Bedj-ka's demand, she was setting him up for a world of hurt. If she refused him, it could create a serious rift between them at a time when their relationship was still forming. She couldn't win, no matter what she did. Hatred for Isaac rolled thick and black. If he hadn't spoken when he had, none of this would be happening. If he hadn't stolen Bedj-ka away in the first place, none of this would be happening. If… if… if…