Code of Vengeance: The Complete Collection, page 47
Drake allowed himself a rare smile. His shot was perfect. From this distance, in these conditions, there was no way he would miss.
But he didn’t release the string. As slowly as he’d brought the bow up, he brought it back down. The deer continued to eat as though they were alone.
He had plenty of food back at the cabin. Enough to last him several more weeks, at least. There wasn’t any point in killing the animal.
Drake wasn’t softhearted. He simply didn’t see the point in waste. He had enough to eat, and there was no internal need to prove himself. He knew, as surely as the sun would rise the next day, that if he had released the arrow, his shot would have been true. He’d killed hardier game from much farther away with the same weapon.
The entire exercise was only to keep his skills sharp, a way to while away the day in the wild. Hunting was his favorite pastime. No other activity encapsulated everything that it meant to be a human, to be the apex predator in the ecosystem. Hunting focused his mind in a way that few other activities did, immersing him in the present moment where life was as it should be. Since he’d come here, he had secured his food by his bow and hard work alone.
Not that he didn’t have a number of more powerful weapons back in the cabin. But he would starve before he used those for hunting game here.
Stepping back with a slow, silent grace, Drake retreated from the two deer. Getting close had been the first challenge. Now that it was accomplished, he decided to see if he could exit the area without them noticing. The two deer continued munching on the grass as they disappeared from his view. They would never know how closely a predator had approached this day.
When he was distant enough that they wouldn’t be bothered by him, he allowed his movement to relax a little. He still moved slowly and quietly, but not to the same degree. If the snow crunched lightly under his feet, he didn’t mind. He spent more time looking around, enjoying the beautiful, broken landscape of the place he now called home.
The sun was getting low on the horizon. Even now, in the heart of spring, the sun went down over the mountains much earlier than it did on the plains. Already, Drake could see the long shadows of the mountains dancing over the valley, and he frequently stopped to look over this rugged, untamed wilderness, one of the few left in the states.
He could live like this forever. Of that, he had no doubt. This was how humanity was meant to live. Yes, the invention of agriculture had been a boon, and he wasn’t foolish enough to deny all of the tremendous technological advances and benefits he enjoyed. His bow was a high-quality composite mix of materials, incredibly powerful and yet wonderfully light.
But cities were cesspools. People lived there, if it could even be called living, disconnected from nature and their true selves. They didn’t know where their food came from, the animals whose lives gave them the steaks on their plates at night. Cities and technology had separated humans from their source, and so few people seemed to care.
His reverie was interrupted by the awareness that something was off. The hair on his neck stood up as his finely tuned senses sought out the difference that had triggered his subconscious alarms.
He was less than a mile away from his cabin. He had spent every day in these woods, and there was something wrong. It took him a few seconds to identify the difference, and he berated himself for his own distraction.
The space around his cabin was too quiet. Normally there would be birds chirping at this time of evening, especially the small group of white-throated swifts that had nested in the mountains just to the west of his home. But they were silent now. What had disturbed them?
Perhaps the hunt wasn’t over for the day, after all. He carried a pistol on his hip. He never left home without one. But the bow seemed more sporting. He knew it was his ego speaking, but this was his land.
He continued toward his cabin, keeping all his senses alert. Out here, even the smell of a person could give them away.
The assassin made a wide circle of his home, looking for prints, checking to ensure that no one was attempting to set up a sniping position. In the wet and muddy earth, it was difficult to walk without leaving some sign.
Drake left the most obvious path for last, and he was a little disappointed to find four sets of tracks on the main trail that led to his cabin. There were two heading toward the home and two walking away from it.
The story seemed obvious, but Drake hadn’t stayed as well-hidden as he had by not being careful. There could be others, even though he suspected there weren’t. Somehow Sapiens First had found him. But the two they’d sent to find him had simply followed the walking path. If they were professionals, they barely deserved the name.
Drake left the path again, making another, closer circuit of the house. The sounds of wildlife slowly started to return, and he had a growing certainty that whoever had been to his cabin was now gone. But still, he remained cautious.
He crouched into a squat and waited, looking through the windows to see if he could catch any sign of movement, or any sign of ambush.
After fifteen minutes, when he hadn’t seen a sign, Drake proceeded, his caution still dictating his actions. He left the arrow nocked in his bow as he ran forward to the edge of the cabin.
His house was as rustic as they came. It was a small wooden structure, simple but sturdy. When Drake had first found it, the foundation and the support beams were strong, but the exterior was crumbling. With his ample funds, he had purchased the land and gotten to work repairing the house. He transported lumber and supplies from the nearest town himself, nearly forty miles away. The work had been a labor of love, and the cabin was the only object in life he had any attachment to.
He came to a crouch near a corner of the cabin and peeked his head around one of the windows. The cabin only had one room, with a sleeping mat on the floor and a small kitchen. Drake was a man of very few needs. His eyes took in the scene in a moment, immediately discovering what was out of place.
He swore softly to himself. It was what he had expected, but he wasn’t pleased. The temptation to relax his guard was strong, but he didn’t succumb. Even though he was almost positive, he wouldn’t be lulled into a false sense of security.
Drake stepped around the cabin and examined the front door. It had been opened and closed, but the tracks and the device inside the place gave that away. He cautiously opened the door, scanning for any signs of explosives or electronics he might have missed as he was looking through the window. There were none.
Finally starting to relax, Drake took the arrow out of the bow and placed it in the quiver. He laid the bow to rest in its typical place, then took the quiver off and left it leaning against the wall. The gun stayed on his hip. It was never more than an arm’s reach away from him.
He approached the phone, which had been left on the floor in the middle of the cabin. From its design, Drake could tell that it was an encrypted satellite phone. That made sense. There were no cell towers out here pushing data through the air in an unending stream. Here, it was quiet.
Drake took a deep breath and centered himself.
He picked up the phone and placed his thumb against the screen. Drake wasn’t sure what other types of security measures were in place, but he could imagine. The phone was scanning his retinas and his face to make sure he was the person who owned the phone.
Less than a second later, the phone unlocked.
The phone had no numbers stored in it. As it was, it was almost entirely blank. Drake dialed the only number that mattered.
A familiar voice was on the other end. “It’s been some time.”
Drake wished he could agree. After the last mission, he wanted to be done. He had no need of money, no desire to live in the modern world anymore. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much of a choice. He never did.
Fortunately, Drake’s silence was a common response, and the smooth voice on the other end of the line didn’t hesitate to continue without an answer.
“We need you to return to Minneapolis,” the voice said.
If not for Drake’s iron control over his own reactions, he would have groaned out loud. He didn’t want to leave, but of all the possible assignments he could have received, going back to Minneapolis was the worst.
His last mission had been in Minneapolis, and although he’d completed the objectives given to him, he believed he had lost something there. His purpose, perhaps?
Everything he’d been certain about was thrown into question in that damned city. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the robot kneeling over him, fist raised high in the air, ready to slam down and kill him. But it hadn’t. After everything, the robot had spared him. It had shown him mercy.
Perhaps the most human of values.
Drake didn’t like to think about it. He preferred to imagine the events had never happened, and he filled his days in the mountains, pushing the memories further and further away.
The world had different plans.
“Is it the robot again?”
It couldn’t be. He had watched the robot being torn apart right in front of him. Limbs and artificial muscle had snapped, and at times, Drake wondered just how human even the physical design of the robots had become. His mind believed it had observed a man being torn apart, based on the memories that haunted his dreams. Circuits became organs, and sparks blood. Sleep wasn’t the peaceful escape it once had been.
“No,” said the voice on the end of the line.
Drake fought the urge to sigh. As much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t say no. No one ever said no to the voice on the other end of the line. “What’s the mission, then?”
“We need you to assassinate Diamond Carter.”
Chapter Four
Nat wondered how long it had been since she last visited these caves. Five months, perhaps? That sounded about right. Not long, but it felt as if it was a lifetime ago. The rock walls she had once called home now felt alien to her touch, sending a chill down her arm.
In a way, it had been a different life, regardless of the time passed. Her worries and problems today were an entirely different species than the ones she’d had when she lived here. Before, she’d been trying to tear down the robotics and AI industry, a flea trying to tip over an elephant. Now, she felt as though she was trying to build something new instead of upending what was established. Diamond’s campaign was trying to find a new way forward, a way for humans and AI to coexist.
Even though they had only lived here a few months, Nat felt a stir of nostalgia as she looked around the small rooms. The last time she visited she ensured everything was protected, and no one had been down here since. Nat kept the alarms active and routed to her van, but they had been as silent as the grave since she last stepped out.
It was no surprise, really. The cave was well hidden, and even if anyone stumbled upon the entrance, which was nothing more than a sewer grate in the middle of a forest, getting past the security measures that Nat and Br00-S installed would require a concerted effort that no curious teenager would be able to manage.
Without the warmth of their bodies and the portable heaters, the air in the cave had become cold and stale. Given the heat and humidity of the early spring outside, it was actually a pleasant change, and as Nat pressed her forehead against a cool wall, she wondered if she shouldn’t consider moving back in just for the summer.
For a few more minutes she wandered the small space without any particular goal, relying on the light from her cell phone to guide her way. In a way, the cave almost felt haunted, not by ghosts, but by memories. She smiled at the memory of Br00-S trying to use sarcasm for the first time, but lost the grin almost immediately as she thought about their final arguments. She moved to a different part of the cave, pushing the negative thoughts out of her head. As her light passed over the corner where Br00-S used to charge his batteries, she remembered a friendly debate between them about which value was more important: independence or community. They had debated good-naturedly for hours, the subject endlessly fascinating to Nat. Br00-S had strongly preferred independence, but acknowledged that more was often accomplished when people worked together.
As the light continued over the nooks and crannies of the caves, her eyes landed on all the spare parts she had purchased for Br00-S, and her mind was inexorably drawn to the memory of Br00-S stumbling into the cave, dripping wet and freezing cold in the brutal Minnesota winter. He’d been close to death, and if Nat had decided to leave any earlier, he might’ve lost all his power and remained down here alone and helpless until someone either discovered him or the cave collapsed. But on that particular day she had waited, holding out hope he would return, unwilling to leave her friend behind. That day, her persistence had saved his life, at least for a while.
A sudden, surprising anger seized her. After all of that, why had he chosen to throw his life away? Sure, his sacrifice had quieted Sapiens First down, and yes, Radius no longer had retrieval teams combing the city for him. But did the cost have to be so high? Her light passed over the section of wall that concealed the safe she didn’t dare open. Yes, he left a seed AI behind, but even if she planted it, would he be the same Br00-S that she knew?
That was really the question, wasn’t it? A realization hit her as hard as a rock dropping from the ceiling. For months she had agonized about bringing him back. Like she always did, she rationalized her decision away, debating about morals and values and right and wrong, but that hadn’t been the truth of the problem at all. Only now, with the benefit of time to dull the weight of her wounds, was she able to acknowledge that the real reason she hadn’t used the seed AI was because she wasn’t certain what she would get if she did. She was afraid of raising Frankenstein’s monster.
There was a part of her, a significant, insistent part of her, that wanted Br00-S back. Whether or not they had agreed on everything, he had been instrumental in her life, and she missed his presence. But she had done her research. Nothing like this had ever been done, at least not in such a way that the results were public. AIs, by their nature, were learning machines, and a regular AI was always shedding its old code and creating new instructions. But never before had an AI attempted to break itself all the way down, reconstruct itself in a new image, and then be transplanted into an entirely new body. In theory, it could be the exact same Br00-S she had left here in the caves months ago, but there was just no telling.
In his final message to her, Br00-S told her that she was right, that he had gone too far. In his eyes, the seed AI was a way to make the situation right. He believed that he had stripped out all the problems that had come before. He had taken self-help to a whole new level. Nat had trouble being so confident. In effect, it meant that Br00-S was predicting his own development, a task which seemed impossible even for artificial intelligence.
There was every chance that if she planted the seed, it wouldn’t be Br00-S who greeted her. Perhaps she would awaken something even more dangerous.
It was another version of the same argument she’d had with herself hundreds of times, and she always ended up at this point, her rational self talking her out of the risk. Not only was the danger present, she wasn’t sure her desire to bring him back was psychologically healthy. She knew Br00-S wasn’t actually human, but she’d come to think of Br00-S in a very human way, almost like a brother. Memories of Jack mixed with her memories of Br00-S, confusing her and causing her to wipe an angry tear from her eye. As much as she wanted them both back, it just felt wrong, as though she was interfering with the natural order of the world. Jack was dead and Br00-S was dead, and that was that. Her responsibility was to grieve and then move on, not obsess about bringing them back.
And yet she found herself here, unable to let go of the memory of her friend and the possibilities for the future.
Ever since she met Br00-S, she’d been involved in events that were far too dangerous. She always seemed to find herself in a hole of her own digging that was deeper than she knew how to get out of. But the one she was in now felt deeper than all the rest. In Diamond, Nat held a tentative hope for the future. The governor’s race could be the domino that started a positive change throughout the world. She was certain. But at the end of the day, it was still a gubernatorial race, and although they had funds and support, they would never be able to provide the protection that Diamond deserved and needed.
Not unless she woke up Br00-S.
With Br00-S awake, if he had even half the abilities he’d possessed upon his death, she could rest easy knowing that someone was always watching over Diamond. Someone who wouldn’t tire, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to jump in the way of a bullet if it came to that.
She hadn’t lied to Bryce. She hadn’t been fazed, but she was overwhelmed by the enormity of her task. If Diamond was going to survive, they needed more help, and no one else seemed to listen to Nat.
Her only option was Br00-S.
She shook her head, doubting her judgment completely. Maybe she was going crazy. She pulled out her phone and made a call.
Nat prided herself on her determination. She could dawdle on a decision for days or weeks, but once the decision was made, she pursued the action until its end. Nothing stood in her way.
In her first foster home, her guardians were devout Christians, and they had done everything to convert her to their faith. Even at ten, she couldn’t bring herself to believe in an omniscient being that would let her brother die so young. For years they brought her to Sunday school, and for years she argued with the volunteer teachers. Eventually, she won, and never had to attend a church service again.
When she decided she was going to plant the seed, no obstacle would slow her down.
Fortunately, there was a bit of a lull in the campaign. After the assassination attempt at the rally, Diamond had decided to lie low for a few days. Online and on social media she was as active as ever, but her personal habits were much more restrained. She worked out, she went to the office, and she returned home. Diamond’s life lacked its usual vibrancy, but it kept her alive.
