Ramez Naam - Apex

Did he order the assassination attempt on himself?

Christ, Pryce wondered. If Stockton had ordered Becker and Holtzman’s death…

Am I in danger?

Carolyn Pryce took a deep breath.

Now, at least, she had a tool. She scanned the pages again. Here, in the originals that Holtzman had sent Lisa Brandt, were details that hadn’t been released. The names of programs, code words she’d never heard of. HARBINGER. SENTINEL. CALVINIST.

Code words that searches of the classified archives her maximum security clearance gave her access to didn’t find any hits on .

All tied up with the black op that was the PLF.

Each of those words, every detail associated with them, was a trap, a trap she could spring on Miles Jameson.

Or on John Stockton.

Her breath was coming fast.

Jameson. Jameson first. He was her top suspect.

Then Stockton.

All she had to do was find a way to get to Jameson.

And if her worst suspicions were true, she had to find a way to stay alive.

62

Yingjie Again

Wednesday 2040.12.12

The Avatar physically shrank back in the toilet cubicle as Yingjie emerged into the main room on the house monitors. This was not good. Ling’s fingers kneaded the girl’s stuffed panda.

She reached out for Yingjie’s mind, but she still felt nothing. Had he not gotten enough? Was his skin too tough? Was the diffusion rate lower than she’d modeled? Were the pharmacodynamics different when inhaled and absorbed than when injected? Was something different about his blood or brain that she didn’t know?

On the camera the soldier was heading for the closed door to Chen’s bedroom. Chen was in there now, sealing himself into the toilet chamber, just as the Avatar had done in her own suite.

She had to stop Yingjie.

“I’m over here you idiot.” She had the house sound system play Chen’s voice, coming from the kitchen.

Yingjie whirled, looked.

Then a noise came from within Chen’s suite, as the final door slammed shut.

Yingjie turned again, lashed out with his foot once, and the door to Chen’s bedroom exploded open.

The Avatar was breathing fast in Ling’s little body now. She needed Chen. Needed him to justify her own access to the quantum cluster. Needed his biometrics.

But not as much as she needed Ling.

Contingency plans raced through her mind.

Yingjie kicked open the door to the walk-in closet, and found it empty of all but clothes. He flipped Chen’s emperor-sized bed onto its side as if it were made of plywood, found nothing of interest beneath it.

“Where are you, Chen?” he yelled.

The Chinese Marine’s eyes turned to the door to the washroom suite, death in them.

She could feel Chen’s terror within, feel his body hyperventilating, feel the sweat in his palms, the race of his pulse, even through the control of the neural circuits she’d placed.

Then she felt it. The first glimmer of Yingjie’s mind, as nanoparticles reached neurons, met one another, snapped together to form full nanites, and began transmitting and receiving.

He lashed out at the door to the washroom, and she reached out at the most basic level, twisting at his motor cortex, flexing her will at him.

The door flew open. Yingjie stumbled, falling to one knee, halfway through the door.

More nanites formed in his brain, attaching to his neurons, launching into calibration phase as they explored the mapping of his neural circuitry.

Yingjie grabbed hold of the marble sink above him, pulled himself shakily back to his feet.

The Avatar could feel the chaos in his mind now, the fear, the disorientation as sensations and concepts and memories followed each other in a high speed montage.

Yet more nanites formed.

“What… what have you done to me?” he asked, his eyes trying to find the last door, the door behind which Chen hid, through the chaos of his own mind.

I’ve made you better,the Avatar sent him.

Yingjie’s eyes opened wide at that. He blinked again, seemed to find what he was looking for, and launched himself across the room at the door to the toilet. He staggered at it off balance, hit it hard with one shoulder, and bounced off, landing on his back on the floor.

“Chen!” he tried to roar. It came out weak, confused, almost a plea for help. “Chen!”

My name is not Chen,the Avatar sent him. And you are now much more than Yingjie.

63

Bouncing Back

Tuesday 2040.12.18

“Axon,” Tempest said. “You need to see this.”

IS NEXUS FUGITIVE RANGAN SHANKARI BEHIND DC RIOTS? (PICS)

Rangan stared at the headline, his heart sinking.

The rumors had been building for more than a week. Anonymous posters on message boards had claimed to have seen him at the Mall protests, at the ongoing riots and clashes with police that had been going on around the city since the protesters had been pushed off the Mall. The claims had largely been met with disbelief, with the observation that someone so high on DHS’s most-wanted list should be as far from DC and public places as possible.

This wasn’t a message board, though. This was Eccentric, one of the top alt-culture sites online. The header showed him the article was already racking up tens of thousands of views.

He scrolled down.

“What the hell?”

The images were of him… But they weren’t him. They showed someone of his rough build, holding up a sign, calling for Nexus legalization.

With his face, dark skinned, unpainted. Bleach blond hair. Bare hands. A camo jacket he didn’t own.

That wasn’t him. These were all fake.

He went back, scrolled through the text of the article. It was based on an anonymous tip, with quotes from the tipper.

The last quote struck home. “Shankari should take better care of himself, instead of exposing himself to this kind of danger. People have gotten hurt out there, even killed.”

“It’s a warning,” Tempest said. “He’s telling you to stay out of his way, or next time, there won’t be a next time.”

“Fuck him,” Cheyenne rumbled. She was back from the hospital, Nexus freshly re-installed after her backup-and-dump, her arm both casted and slung, slow release growth factor capsules speeding the healing of bone in her arm and soft tissue in her shoulder. “He’s the one needs to be warned.”

“I don’t get it,” Rangan said. “If he’s going to fake photos… why not some that look like I looked?”

“If he’s really PLF,” Angel said. “Then you should be a hero. Maybe he’d rather scare you away than kill you.”

Tempest snorted. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

64

Growing

Tuesday 2040.12.18

“No, mother!” Yuguo said again. “I’m not leaving!”

He pulled his arm free of her.

His mother, plump, round-faced, dressed in a long grey coat over a green winter dress, looked at him with tears in her eyes.

“They’ll arrest you!” She pleaded, both arms outstretched. “They’ll haul you away, my only child! For what? For nothing!”

She spun around, taking in the protest, the hundreds of students collected around them, the signs that cried “BO JINTAO IS A CRIMINAL” and “FREE SUN LIU!” and “DEMOCRACY NOW!” and “LET A BILLION FLOWERS BLOOM”.

Yuguo could feel his friends in his mind, feel their thoughts, feel their mixed concern, scorn, and impatience.

“No one knows you’re here!” she cried at him. “They’ve blacked you out!”

Yuguo stood taller. “That’s why we have to fight.”

“Please,” she begged. To his horror, his mother fell to her knees. “Please, Yuguo. Don’t throw your life away. This isn’t worth the risk!” She was crying now.