Ramez Naam - Nexus

"So," she said. "Tell me about your schedule. When could you be free for a week or so to visit? And do you know Rangan's schedule as well?"

Kade started to walk her through the experiments they had planned for the rest of the year, when there might be a hole. A moment later, he felt her in his mind.

Open to me. Show me what happened, she sent.

He could feel her mind touching his in other ways, weaving a false set of memories to cover their conversation even as they spoke.

Are we being watched?he asked.

You are bugged, but they will not detect our real conversation. Not this time.

Kade waxed poetic about the need to book lab time months in advance, and how that would affect his calendar for the rest of the year.

I have a lot to learn,he sent her.

Yes, you do. Now show me.

He did. She absorbed it in an instant.

I did not do this thing,she told him.

He felt a cold, vast anger inside her. The attack on him offended her. It made her furious.

I know, he replied. You could have taken me any time you wanted.

Someone wants to make you a slave,Shu told him. Someone wants your secrets.

Do you know who?he asked her.

No, but I intend to find out.

Could it be Professor Ananda?Kade asked. He's one of their other suspects.

She mentally shook her head. Not Ananda.

Or Ted Prat-Nung?he asked.

Shu looked at him sidelong this time. He caught a sense of… something. Not Thanom.

They talked logistics out loud for a time. Flights. Lodging. Who to meet. Rangan's schedule.

Can you help me about Friday?he asked her. Help me warn them? Some way that the ERD doesn't find out?

Your government has made you a slave, Kade. If you want my help, come with me now to Shanghai. Break free of these chains.

The temptation was strong. To have a mentor he could trust, that he could turn to. To work towards real goals and not spend all his time hiding them…

But he would be a slave there too. He would be making weapons. There would be blood on his hands.

I'm sorry,he sent her. I can't accept the price you pay.

I won't pay that price forever, Kade. There will come a day when we will be free and the humans will no longer have us under their thumbs.

She had so much anger inside. She hated them. He caught a flash of her mentor, Yang Wei, burning to death…

She watched him die, he realized. How would that affect me?

He shook it off. It didn't matter.

I'm sorry,he sent her. This isn't just my life on the line. There are more than a hundred people whose futures are at stake. I can't let them down.

They're humans,she sent him. You're more valuable. You're wasting your potential.

I'm human too.

You're more, Kade. You're transhuman now. And you can be so much greater still.

Everyone could be greater,he sent. This is about choice and freedom, right? About everyone's potential.

The world needs leaders, Kade,she sent him. After we tear down the old order, there will be a vacuum. Who will rule? Giving full power to everyone would be like putting guns in the hands of children. In time we'll uplift some, but I need a core group of people like you to fill that initial void. You will always be one of the elite.

Ruling…he replied. One of the elite…

There is no other way,she sent.

Who decides who gets to be part of that elite?he asked her. Who decides which people get uplifted?

Whoever takes the initiative, Kade. Whoever wins the war to come. I intend that to be me. You can be on the winning side.

He saw it through her eyes. The old men that ruled her country and his, on their knees, giving way to the new order, or burning. Dying. Everywhere burning.

It was too much. Head reeling, he stumbled to his feet, backed away from her. He mumbled some word of farewell aloud. Her disappointment followed him. He turned and shambled in a daze back towards his poster. He felt her web of false memories knit itself shut around the conversation they'd just had. He hardly cared.

Her final thoughts followed him. One day you'll see the truth, Kade. The humans are the enemies of the future. They hate us. They hate our beauty and our potential. Either they hunt us down and kill and enslave us, or we rise above them and take our rightful place in this world. There are no other options.

Madness. Madness everywhere. The ERD would make him a slave. Shu would make him a tyrant and a killer. He had to find some other way.

30

DATA GATHERING

Wats slid slowly out of the shadow of the inner wall of Wat Hua Lamphong. It was the hour of evening meditation, between dinner and sleep, and the monks had all been called to the central hall. Golden Buddhas watched him with serene, lifeless eyes. Their half smiles mocked him. Red-faced guardian demons leered at him. A giant statue of the Hindu elephant god Ganesha watched him pass with alien indifference.

He'd watched the small number of monks' rooms all evening, had seen Tuksin enter and exit one near the end. This was a city temple, more for worship by the laity than for monks, but a few dwelled here. Tuksin and Ananda both had small cells, close to Chulalongkorn University where Ananda worked and taught during the week. Ananda's home monastery lay to the north-east, he knew, a hundred or so klicks out of town, up in the mountains.

Wats crept silently, slowly forward, moving at a pace the chameleonware could accommodate. Too fast and no technology could camouflage you. The key was patience. And luck. He remained alert to lights and motion. A sister passed by four feet away from him, heading from one place to another on some errand, oblivious to his presence. He froze while she passed, moved again when she had rounded a corner.

Finally he came to the door that he'd watched Tuksin enter and exit. He tried the knob with gloved hands. It was locked. He slid the small autopick from his thigh pocket, inserted its matte black length into the lock. It whirred softly as it felt its way within the lock, shifted its shape to fit. Then a click. He turned the autopick and the knob turned with it. Wats entered the cell, closed the door silently behind him.

He dared not turn on a light. Instead he scanned the room with the electromagnetic senses of his goggles. Night vision revealed a small spartan space. A narrow bed against one wall. A writing desk with an outdated terminal, a phone resting beside it. A bookshelf with a few texts in Thai and English. A wardrobe. A sink. No bathroom door.

The only transmissions in the room came from the phone and the terminal. He moved forward, slid a probe into a port on the phone, let it do its work. There was a thumbprint sensor on the side of the phone. He slid a print imager across it. As a precaution he did the same with the thumbprint sensor attached to the terminal, went to the doorknob, did it a third time.

As the probe cloned the phone's data he searched the wardrobe. Monk's robes. Sandals. Underwear. A cloak with a hood. No hidden back or bottom.

The probe beeped softly. Wats extracted it, slid a different tip into the terminal.

He lifted the mattress. Two boxes beneath the bed. One held old-fashioned photographs, a young man in a village. Tuksin, before he was a monk. The other held closed-toe shoes. He felt the top surface of the mattress. Nothing. He felt along the sides. Nothing. He felt along the bottom. Hmm. There, a change in consistency. He explored it, found a place where he could part the fabric and slide his hand in, pulled out a large opaque package, soft-sided, waterproof.