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  “Peter Pan, magic cheese. Sephiroth!” He croaked. He couldn’t quite get the dramatic chorus falsetto going, but I busted up laughing and coughing anyway.

  Steve and I were chalk and cheese in every significant way, and always had been. Games had been the one thing that had brought us together. The sounds of us hacking and wheezing were obliterated by the roar of a helicopter passing by overhead, low to the ground. By the time I could hear anything else, I was wheezing and gasping for air.

  “I figure we can do at least one speedrun of most of these before we croak,” I continued once I got my voice and hand-eye coordination back, taking out the box and the chip with the games, and then the other things I’d brought: candy bars of every shape and size, chips, and energy drinks. “Remember that time we went trick or treating and told dad we were at cram school, and we ate ourselves sick?”

  “He nearly killed us,” Steve said hoarsely.

  He actually had nearly killed me. Dad hadn’t just been any normal kind of asshole: he had been a whacko-religious dentist who forbade sugar in the house, especially on Halloween. One year, we’d snuck in a bag of candy and gorged on chocolate and taffy until we’d puked. Dad beat me with a folded electrical cord. Even Steve had gotten a few lashes for that one.

  “Here.” I passed him some chocolate.

  “No,” he said. He shook his head, struggling up a little more. “Hector, listen to me. I asked… asked you to come for a reason. Listen-”

  “Hear me out, first,” I said, unwrapping a candy bar for myself. It helped cover up just how much my hands were shaking. “I came to like… apologize. I hate that we spent so much time fighting. I hate that I was jealous of you and I hate that dad used you to make me feel bad. I hate it that you and him trashtalked me all the way through school. I’m sorry I was such a jerk to you. We don’t have much time… and I just want to hear you’re sorry for treating me the way you did, then move on and play Secret of Mana until we croak, okay?”

  “Hector. Listen,” he rasped. “I know this. I know it all. You being alive, being here ch-changes everything. Listen to me. They’re coming for me. I’m going to make them take you with me.”

  “Who? What?” I frowned, trying not to hold my breath. Even though HEX was working its way through my body, I still felt weird about breathing in the air around the infected. Steve had been bright with health not even a week ago. It seemed like the flu took him faster than the others... or maybe I just noticed more.

  “Ryuko.” He fixed me with a fever glare.

  Ryuko? Ryuko was the AI systems company he worked for. I sort of nodded and shook my head at the same time, not sure what he was trying to say.

  He reached out his hand for mine. “They're late, but they’re coming for me. I’ll tell them when they come that… that... I’ll make them…make them take you. You go with them, Hector.”

  “Ryuko? I don't understand.” He was babbling, and it creeped me out. I'd never known Steve to talk like this, but he was serious about whatever he was trying to get across to me. His agitation beat against my skin. I squeezed his hand in both of mine. “It's okay, man. You need to rest.”

  “It's secret... it's...” His eyes wandered past me, and I saw something flash at his temple: a small blue light. His Brain-to-Interface link.

  “Ryuko,” he whispered, staring at something behind me.

  There was a bang on the door, and then another as the wood splintered and then crashed in under the weight of a battering ram. Five years of training and experience kicked in instantly. Coughing, I was up on my feet with my pistol aimed before I’d even had time to think.

  “Hector, no!” Steve hissed.

  My grip on the pistol sagged at his command, but I was still in firing position as soldiers poured in through the door. Not ordinary soldiers. They were all identical: the same height, the same matte-black bioarmor, the same oversized rifles and terrifying stillness when they came to a stop. The guns were pointed at my face, and I froze in fear and confusion. There were no eyes behind those featureless black visors. They were androids. Machines.

  “No fire. No fire!” Steve cringed back into the sofa, lifting his voice until it broke.

  “No fire.” A woman’s voice broke through in the sudden silence.

  I eased down as the unseen woman rounded the corner and stood in the doorway, and dropped the pistol down as my eyes widened. She was tall, supermodel perfect, like a vision out of Viking myth. Lean, long legs, a sculpted face like an avenging angel, golden blonde hair pinned up behind her head in a twist underneath a clear, HAZMAT-style helmet. The rest of her outfit looked to me like a fancy white spacesuit, and I wasn’t too sick not to notice how the thick leather-like material hugged her curves. I blinked several times, not convinced that I wasn’t tripping balls.

  The woman looked between the pair of us. “Mister Park?”

  “Park One and Park Two, at your service.” Every breath hurt like hell, but sassiness was just as incurable as HEX. “Bro, is this-”

  “You informed the company that you had no living relatives, Mister Park.” She didn’t bat an eye. Angel Lady’s voice was cool, crisp, and matched her elegant face and hair. Now that she was up close, something was pinging at my uncanny valley reflex. There was something not quite right about this lady. “Has the status of your family changed?”

  “Yes,” Steve croaked.

  “What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?” I asked the room.

  Steve shuffled behind me, and I turned to see him sitting upright. He was trembling with the effort, his jaw tense, eyes wild and hot. With a glance at the others, I went to him and helped him to stay up. His hand grasped my forearm, tight and inhumanly strong.

  “T-Temperance. This… this is my brother. Little brother.” His breath bubbled on every exhalation. “Do… background check under… Park Jeong-Ho.”

  I flinched at the sound of my birth name.

  “Sir, Ms. Hashimoto ordered me to bring you-”

  “You’re too late.” Steve retorted, and for a moment, he looked more like himself. He’d always had a fire burning deep inside, a fire he’d manifested by powering through achievement after achievement, scholarship after scholarship. He’d won local and state awards for mathematics and linguistics, joined Mensa, and had gone on to work for Ryuko Entertainment as one of the best AI immersion developers on the United States’ side of the Pacific.

  “I’m very sorry we weren’t here yesterday as we planned, Mister Park,” Temperance replied. She didn’t sound very sorry. “My transport was delayed by rogue aircraft. If you cannot travel, I am afraid we cannot honor the contract.”

  “I can travel, and yes, you will honor the contract. Hector is my next of kin,” he said, straightening his back. “I want to forfeit my place to him.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Temperance said. “My orders were to bring you…”

  “Get Akari on a BCI channel,” Steve said, his voice firm with authority. “Now.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Steve, what the fuck is going on?” I turned on him, suddenly angry.

  He glared at me with blood-shot eyes. “Hector. Not now.”

  Steve’s BCI flashed, and then Temperance’s. They gazed at each other in silence with faraway expressions for several moments as they exchanged information. Once it was done, Steve sagged back into the sofa, and Temperance stood there like a shop mannequin, inhumanly still. She wasn’t breathing.

  A gynoid, I realized. Holy shit. There were only a handful of real androids 'alive' in the world, so to speak. The woman in front of me was the real deal - an artificial life form. A walking supercomputer.

  “Thank you, Mister Park. Ms. Hashimoto is revising her orders,” Temperance said. “I will perform the requested background check. Please look directly at me, Mister Park Jeong-Ho.”

  “My preferred name is Hector. No ‘mister’,” I grunted. More out of surprise than anything, I looked up and met her eyes. They were as wide and blue as the
Caribbean Sea, a perfect crystalline color that seemed to dance with light.

  “Thank you, Mister Park. Management has approved your appeal,” she said, after five minutes or so.

  Steve shuddered. “Thank God.”

  I scowled, glancing between them, and got to my feet. “Would either of you like to tell me what the hell is going on?”

  “Hector, I am here to execute your brother's contract with the Ryuko Virtual Reality Corporation,” the gynoid replied. “Your brother was an employee involved with a project that is being repurposed. Mister Steven Park, if I understand your uploaded testimony, do you vouch that this man is qualified for the trial and you wish to include him under the terms of your contract?”

  “Hey, wait a second.” I stood, alarmed. “What contract?”

  “Yes.” Steve choked. “Take him. Please.”

  Intellectually, I knew Steve was doing something to try and save my ass. What, exactly, I wasn’t sure – but I was starting to get pissed off. I’d never had control of my life because of our parents, and now he was trying to control me, too. “Wait! Take me where? To do what?”

  “I am the Executive Assistant of Akari Hashimoto, the CEO of Ryuko Corporation,” Temperance replied. “I have been ordered to make you an offer as requested by your brother, Ryuko's Senior Virtual Intelligence Developer, Steven Park. The offer must be made in a secure facility, and you are under no obligation to accept the terms and conditions… but it may very well save your life. Would you like to accompany me to discuss your future?”

  Chapter 2

  This had to be some kind of sick joke. “I've got HEX. I don't have a future.”

  Temperance tilted her head on her long neck. “Ms. Hashimoto did not send us out here for a prank, Mister Park.”

  While I boggled, she turned to my brother, who was fighting to not throw up from coughing. “Mister Steven Park, please hold while the medivac assembles.” She looked back to me. “Hector, your brother will be removed from this building regardless of your decision. Do you wish to accompany us?”

  I looked over at the black-clad troopers. None of them had moved since they’d come into the room and taken position, frozen like statues with perfect trigger discipline. “Why? Are you guys working on a cure, or…?”

  “We’re working on a lateral solution that may save millions of lives in as soon as ten days’ time,” Temperance said calmly. “Your brother was part of the project, and has volunteered to help us test it. He has extended his invitation to you.”

  Millions of lives? What the hell had my brother been working on? It took longer than usual to process everything through the headache and fever, barely controlled by the fistful of meds I'd taken. “If Steve goes, I’ll go. But what-”

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss anything more outside of company property.”

  Three more uniformed androids filtered in with what looked like clear glass coffins on rolling trays.

  “You are fortunate. Another trial subject passed during the delay we suffered last night.” Temperance nodded, her arms loosely folded underneath her breasts. “Because of this, we had a spare containment pod when we received Steven’s request.”

  Whatever it was we were supposed to be doing, I didn't feel fortunate: not when it was at the expense of someone else’s death. “Jesus, lady. Did they forget to slot your emotion chip in this morning or something? People are dying. My brother is dying. I don't feel 'fortunate'. I feel like an asshole.”

  “Hector,” my brother said warningly.

  The gynoid regarded me coolly, her eyes half lidded, lips parted. “My controller disabled my emotional responses for the purposes of this mission. He was concerned that I would not be able to function if I was fully capable of empathy and affect. It would be too distressing to be surrounded by the dead and dying, knowing that you can do nothing to help them, and our mission relies on the speedy and effective recovery of very sick people.”

  “Oh.” Suddenly, I felt even more like a shithead. “Sorry.”

  “No apology is required. I am also currently incapable of feeling offended.” She motioned to the containment pod. “Please stand aside. We will see to your brother first.”

  The androids clustered around Steve while I waited anxiously on the sidelines. They got a respirator on him, took out his IV, and inserted a new needle into his elbow that was attached to a small portable tank. Then they lifted him, blankets and all, into one of the pods. When he was inside, it began to hum, and the inside frosted over. The last thing I saw were his eyes looking out at me before they disappeared behind a wall of frost.

  “Sir, please hand over all weapons and other gear.”

  I startled up, looking into the impassive black mask of one of the troopers. No, definitely not human. In a battlefield, he would have passed for human until you’d had a chance to stop and look. I’d never seen robots this advanced before.

  Coughing, I removed all of my kit and handed it over, left in nothing but my dirty fatigues. I was given a respirator, a portable IV, and was then guided into the empty pod.

  Small spaces have never been my deal. I get claustrophobic in cars, let alone in a glass box roughly the size and shape of a casket. My heart was thundering in my ears as I lay down, beating faster and faster as they shut the lid and a cool cloud of gas puffed out around me. It smelled like disinfectant. There was a click, and then a sudden cold sensation... my head spun and I relaxed. The pain in my joints and skin receded, and as the mask pumped oxygen into my inflamed lungs, I could think again.

  Ryuko. I knew who they were, but not why they were here - or where they were taking me and Steve. They were a Japanese-American zaibatsu, the biggest developer of virtual reality technology in the world. The company had ascended with the First Total War during the 2030s. That War had been a drone war, and the pilots with the best tech had been the winners: Us, fortunately.

  Like other World Wars through history, the years after the First Total War resulted in a technology boom. The VR games I liked to play - adventure games, RPGs, shooting and racing - were all based on the tech developed during that time. And that’s what I thought of, when I thought of Ryuko: wargames, drone systems, and RPGs. I’d known Steve had been working his way through the ranks, but not that he’d ascended to the level where he was on first-name terms with the CEO.

  We were wheeled out of the house and onto the street, where more super troopers waited to escort us. They fell in around us as we bumped our way down the road, and I twisted to see my motorcycle one last time before we turned the corner of Hyde Street. The helicopter I had heard earlier was sitting right in the middle of the street, and it was a beauty – a sleek black bio-drone with a giant faceted eye in place of a windshield, like a dragonfly's eye. It was already idling, and the blades sped as we were carried into the bright, clinical cabin and taken to the rear of the ship. There was a bank of autosurgery pods back there, the bases ready to receive our glass-fronted Snow White coffins. Another half dozen men and women were laid out there already. All of them were sedated. My brother’s coworkers? I didn’t recognize any of them.

  I watched anxiously as Steve was lowered onto his bed. Almost immediately, the surgical machine got to work. The glass rippled as tools came out to tap his new IV and feed him a cocktail of drugs I could only guess at. Mine did the same: I lay back and tried to relax as whirs and soft clicks echoed around me.

  Temperance sat down next to my pod with her legs crossed, her back straight and chest lifted. It was easy to imagine her in a secretary’s blouse, pumps and pencil skirt. She seemed to know how to effortlessly position her body for maximum attractiveness, like something out of a movie – or a hentai. Too perfect to be real.

  “Hector.” Her lips moved, but her voice came from a hidden speaker near my ear. “Given the abrupt change in plans, I regret that we could not give you a more detailed explanation of why we are airlifting you, but I assure you that all will be explained.”

  “Can you...” I trailed off to swa
llow, not entirely convinced I wasn't tripping balls after being dosed up with who-knows-what drugs straight into the vein. “Ma'am, can you give me, like, the summary version?”

  Temperance turned to watch me with dulcet blue eyes. “When we are in the air.”

  That wasn't going to be far off. I lay back and focused on my breathing while the doors to the chopper racked shut. It began to hum like a hive of angry hornets. Within ten minutes, we were clear for takeoff, and my stomach lurched as we picked up off the ground, swaying, then angled as the chopper headed for the sky.

  “If it's an experimental treatment, my answer is yes.” Soldiers developed a high tolerance for getting jabbed and pumped full of strange shots. “I'll do it. I don't care if it kills me.”

  “We are not offering drug treatments,” Temperance said. She blinked, lowering her chin toward her chest. “As you may know, Ryuko is the world's leading manufacturer of virtual reality solutions, both for entertainment and utility purposes. This helicopter, the autosurgery units, and my protection team are all being remotely guided by AIs. I myself am in constant contact with my Controller, who was evacuated to the Meridian Shard. Like everyone else, we have committed our resources to saving as many people as we can. It is obvious that we face a bottleneck extinction event.”

  I coughed, hacking up phlegm that was delicately suctioned up by a soft tube. “No shit.”

  “The Shard arcologies are completely full. The European-Near East Union has evacuated the maximum number of citizens to the Yetzirah space station, but artificial biospheres are unstable and have a very limited capacity. It’s simply not possible to evacuate everyone still healthy, which means that we must find a cure, or think spatially about ways to preserve life.”

  Ugh, Shards. I hated the Shards and everything they symbolized. They were super-skyscrapers, huge crystal and carbon spires that towered above cloud height. Each one could support about a hundred thousand people, give or take. Politicians, corporate executives, and military officers, the elites who'd never shed blood on the battlefield, got the first pickings at salvation. A lot of them were guys my age, rich draft dodgers. The rest of us were left to cough our lungs out, literally. In chunks. “No way-” I paused to do just that for a second. “N-No way will they find a cure in time.”