Ramez Naam - Apex

“If the alternative is to gun down thousands of our own people?” Ouyang asked. “Yes. To avoid that, we’ll find a way to clear them out.” He nodded. “Tonight.”

111

Stabilize

Monday 2041.01.20

Kade spun hard, his world going insane, alarms blaring at him, error messages strobing in red in his mind.

COLLISION LEFT WING.

DAMAGE LEFT WING.

CHAMELEONWARE ERROR.

FLIGHT INTEGRITY LOST.

STABILIZE AND DEPLOY CHUTE.

STABILIZE AND DEPLOY CHUTE.

STABILIZE AND DEPLOY CHUTE.

“You stabilize!” Kade yelled at the thing.

The world was spinning, spinning fast, spinning hard. Skyscrapers, lit up in neon, rotating, spinning down below him, giant barbs reaching up to impale him. He was going to be sick. He was going to die.

He was losing altitude fast, flight-worthiness destroyed, aerodynamics lost as he spun madly.

Deploy the chute? In a fast spin it’d tangle, never open, he’d die. They’d drilled it into him.

Stabilize.

Stabilize.

How the fuck do I stabilize?

“DEPLOY YOUR CHUTE!”

It was Sam’s voice, beamed into his helmet, breaking radio silence.

He pulled up comms, tried to talk, couldn’t get his breath over the g-forces of the spin.

“Spinning…” he managed.

“MAIN CHUTE, NOW!” Sam yelled.

Kade grabbed the chute release at his chest, jerked hard. His hand ached with it, but it came away.

Something grabbed at him, yanked at him by his harness, pulled him up and back even as he spun. His head came up, his feet down. He was still spinning, but he was upright now, the sky rotating around him, the city below his feet instead of below his face, his spin slowing. He looked up and behind him, and the chute was barely visible, a distortion in space, its chameleonware trying to mask it, but fumbling, confused by its distorted shape. It was wrapped in a ball around itself, the ordinary black lines leading to it wrapped around each other, keeping it from opening.

He looked down and the world was still rotating, still coming closer, the skyscrapers rising at him.

“NOW CUT IT AWAY!” Sam yelled. “RIGHT SIDE OF YOUR CHEST!”

Jesus, Kade thought. He fumbled for the handle on the right side of his chest, grabbed it, yanked with all his might, felt the chute go, felt his fall accelerate.

“RESERVE!” Sam yelled out of his headset. “LEFT SIDE OF YOUR CHEST!”

Kade reached for the handle at the left, the one they’d told him was the last one between him and death. If he had to pull this… either it worked or he died.

He pulled hard.

Behind him he felt the smaller reserve shoot out into the pre-dawn sky of Shanghai.

It grabbed the air, grabbed hold of him, yanked him up and back hard. His rotation slowed. His fall slowed. He was still spinning. He looked up and back and he could see it, the dark, non-chameleonware reserve, blotting out the sky, the lines to it twisted.

“Kick your legs, Kade! Bicycle! You’ve got to untwist your lines!”

He kicked. He kicked.

“The other way !” Sam yelled.

Right! he thought.

Kick, kick, kick!

His spin slowed. He looked up. Lines came free. The chute was open. Handles were there. He reached up for them, put his hands on them.

Then he looked down.

He was between the skyscrapers now. The tops of them were around him, leering at him in neon reds and blues, Chinese actors and actresses raising swords and brandishing spears at him.

Holy shit!

“You have to drop the wing,” Sam said. “The reserve chute’s too small. You’re not gonna be able to land it with the wing.”

“But…” he replied. “If it hits something… Stealth.”

“You’ve got to walk away from the landing. Let go of the wing. Remember the drill?”

He took a deep breath. He remembered.

His hands fumbled for the releases, the ones for the wing, not the ones for the chute. Unclip, unclip, unclip.

“Now,” Sam said.

Kade pulled the final release and watched the wing fall away below him, down into the urban canyon below.

Then he put his hands up, back on the chute’s controls.

And got ready to land this thing himself.

112

Hard Landing

Monday 2041.01.20

Kade came down fast towards the crowded street. There were people everywhere, filling the street, waving signs, shouting. Around them there were men with guns, soldiers, police officers.

Tanks.

He scanned for someplace empty to put down. Everywhere there were people, more people.

Then he heard a gasp from the crowd, looked down, and people were pointing, pointing up at him. His reserve chute was straight black, optimized to do one thing – open. They could see it. He could feel their collective minds now, looking up in shock and amazement.

And suddenly a gap was opening in the crowd, and he was diving towards it, falling too fast, moving forwards too fast.

“Pull up!” Sam yelled into his ear.

Kade yanked hard on the two handles above his head. He felt the chute grab air more aggressively. His fall slowed at the last second. His body swung forward just as he came down. He bent his knees to prepare for touch down.

His feet landed hard, the impact jarring its way up his bones. He fell to one knee in the empty space in the road. There were voices all around him. Shouting. More shouting.

He looked up and there were two soldiers, shouting, pointing assault rifles at him, yelling in Mandarin, moving closer.

The chute. The lines. They could see where it came down, clipped to his chameleonware harness.

Oh fuck, Kade thought.

There was a pistol strapped to his thigh, hidden in a chameleonware pouch. His hand moved slowly towards it.

The soldiers kept yelling, gesturing with the barrels of their rifles.

Kade’s heart was pounding. Could he reach the gun…

Something moved above him. He looked up, saw the canopy coming down, settling over them.

The soldiers looked up too, one of them fired up at it. Then it was on them, everything black. More gunfire erupted.

Kade dropped low. Arrows in his mind pointed up, identified shooters from above. He rolled, got his hand in the pouch. Guns kept firing. The canopy was on him, tangling around him as he rolled.

The guns stopped.

Kade went still. Pistol in his hand.

His radio came alive. Sam’s voice.

“Kade? Kade? What’s your status?”

“On the ground,” he sent back. “Under the chute.”

“Get out,” she said. “Move. Soldiers inbound. Lots of soldiers.”

Fuck, Kade thought. He grabbed at the release on his harness, pulled himself out of it, pushed at the canopy, crawled out.

“To your left, into the alley!” Sam’s voice came.

He came up on his feet, running. His left knee nearly collapsed underneath him in pain. He pushed, ran, teetering, off-balance.

Guns opened up. Displays in his mind painted arrows behind him, to his right. There were bullets ripping through the space above the ripple he’d made in the canopy as he’d climbed out of it.

He heard screams, felt pain flash out from minds in the crowd, as bullets meant for him slammed into innocent people.

Jesus.

Then he was in the deeper shadows, limping, stumbling as he ran, and something grabbed him.

He thrashed out.

“It’s me,” Sam whispered across the radio. “Go flush against the wall. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”

Kade was panting. His heart was pounding.

He turned, put his back against the wall, pressed against it.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Watch the breath.

Oh Jesus.

Observe the mind.

Holy fucking hell.