- Home
- Joshua Anderle
Animus Boxed Set 1 (Books 1-4): Initiate, Co-Op, Death Match, Advance Page 2
Animus Boxed Set 1 (Books 1-4): Initiate, Co-Op, Death Match, Advance Read online
Page 2
“Repeated curb-stomping is pretty damn escalated,” Kaiden quipped, drawing a bemused smirk from the professor.
“Not by our standard. Stomping requires you to be on the ground and submit to your opponent’s whim. Perhaps that might be your desire in your free time, but not while on duty.”
Kaiden chuckled at this and then heard a low groan from Moxy. It seemed he was coming round. The professor noticed it too and began walking toward him. “Nexus Academy welcomes and trains potential recruits from all walks of life and of many different disciplines, but one must be skilled, knowledgeable, and hardened. However, when the time calls for it…” As Moxy began to push himself off the floor and turned to see who stood over him, he was greeted by the professor’s boot slamming against his temple. He slid instantly back to the floor. “All must be ready to back up those talents with a bit of force.”
“I see.” Ben acknowledged with some dejection in his voice. “I was just telling myself that I might not be cut out for the Academy after what happened. Maybe it was foolish to try in the first place.”
“Do not be so self-pitying, Initiate Hargrove. Perhaps you are not cut out for the Academy, but if you give in to that feeling now, you may do so forever. You had the grades and means to pass initial selection. Those criteria will carry you farther than most,” Sasha rebuked as he returned to stand in front of the two, his hands clasped behind his back. “If that is what you choose, I believe you have made the right choice for yourself. However, I see you have one of the Nexus’ EIs. You will have to return it or pass it along to another initiate. It cannot be used by civilians.”
Ben looked at the box and back at Sasha. Then, his head turned slowly until he looked at Kaiden. “Professor, may I make a recommendation?” he asked.
“Go ahead. But I have an inkling that it is the same proposition I intended to make.” Kaiden gave them a quizzical look. Both men now looked at him with fixed expressions, and he felt like he was being sized up like a horse preparing for a race he wasn’t aware of.
“You, um… I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught your name.” Ben spoke hesitantly, still looking alternately at him and the professor.
“Kaiden…Jericho,” he replied, raising an eyebrow to indicate his puzzlement.
“I wanted to thank you, Kaiden, for helping me, and I do think the Academy is a wonderful opportunity, even if I don’t go there myself.” Ben stood straight and reached out to Kaiden with the box in his hand. “I believe you have what it takes to make use of what the Academy offers. If the professor will sanction it, you can have my EI and take my spot in the initiate class.”
“Do what? You can just pass that along?” Kaiden asked incredulously.
“Speaking with the authority of the Nexus Board and as someone who can testify that you show promise due to field experience, I can transfer Benjamin’s place to you. But this only allows you access to take the initiate’s trial. Whether you pass and continue your stay at the Academy is all up to how you perform,” Sasha explained. “If you accept, you will learn about the rules and terms on the day of initiation…which, I should inform you, is tomorrow.”
“Not really a lot of time to think out my options,” Kaiden deadpanned.
“Not really an opportunity you had until a minute ago,” Sasha answered with a smirk.
“I know it is sudden, and you would probably like to think it through or talk to someone, but if it means anything from a grateful stranger, I think you could do it.” Ben’s smile was wide and honest.
Kaiden took the box and examined it, then looked at Ben and Sasha. “To hell with it. I just got one thing I need to do.”
“And what is that?” Sasha asked.
Kaiden glanced at the bar. Julio saw him and waved, giving him a thumbs-up as he pointed at the still-fetal Czar. “I need to tell someone he won’t have a doorman.”
Chapter Two
As Kaiden looked out his window, the sparkling waters of Elliot Bay came into view. The screen on the back of the headrest in front of him came to life, capturing his attention. It displayed the Rainier Hyperloop logo, a silver RH surrounded by a golden circle. The logo shrank quickly and went to the top-left corner of the screen as a message popped up.
Please prepare for submersion, Nexus class of 2196. Wouldn’t want to lose any of you in a panic.
He raised an eyebrow. That was most likely merely a humorous comment drummed up by a PR intern, but if it was an honest concern, he should probably identify potential escape routes. Common sense spurred him to take a quick moment to look around.
He could hear the clicks and hums of the hyperloop train’s propulsion systems rearranging and felt the shocks as it activated to prepare for the dive. Kaiden looked out the window once more to see the water coming up fast and heard the loud splash as the lead compartment of the hyperloop barreled into the bay. Glow strips activated along the sides and top of the tube as it went beneath the water, and a soft blue light illuminated the surroundings.
Kaiden clicked on the ETA tab of the screen. Twelve minutes until arrival. He scanned the cabin to see the other passengers talking animatedly among themselves, each dressed in the same uniform—white jacket, slacks, and black trainers. The only differences he noted were differently colored strips circling the left arm.
Sasha had messaged him that morning to tell him he would receive the same uniform upon his arrival—the initiate’s formal garb—but didn’t mention what the colored rings symbolized. If he had to guess, they were some sort of distinction denoting the services or pedigree of the wearer. If you went to a training school, you’d get a gold circle. If you won a dog show, you’d get polka dots.
He grinned at the ridiculous thought and wondered if he would get a special color for being recruited directly by a board member. Perhaps, he mused, a clean silver or royal purple, something nice and obvious that would be a little subtler than a target on his back.
He reached into his jeans pocket to bring out the EI box Ben had given him. With a practiced gesture, he flicked the lock open and looked at the chip. Besides the holographic coating around the perimeter of the chip, there seemed to be nothing unusual about it.
They were officially called hybrid EIs, though he’d heard some of the students call them N-Chips. He was told they were a mixture of the commercial EIs most metropolitans had and professional EIs.
“Mental butler” was the unofficial term, coined because of its primary purpose.
The chips were, in fact, tiny computers with programmed personalities and potentially thousands of functions and applications, depending on what you sprang for. They could only be run through specific devices like that odd contraption around Sasha’s head—a stylish neural lens, as he had put it. Others used special wrist-mounted devices or tablets, and he had even seen some goofy-looking hats that had the capability to process and manage an EI.
He had never used one himself, but a few other Dead-Eyes had them. He could never see the point. Playing a game of solitaire in his head while on the job didn’t seem very professional, even to him. He could, however, recall one unfortunate instance he had heard of from a division leader who had come in from Baton Rouge.
There weren’t many professional EIs currently on the market, and there had been even less back then. Pro-EIs were the top class, and not only offered all the bells and whistles of normal commercial EIs but had the ability to integrate with other devices. This allowed the user to link up all their devices to the Pro-EI and control them from one location. It made them extremely valuable among businessmen, scientists, and mercenary leaders alike.
The leader who related the story said that one of his men had gotten his hands on a cracked Pro-EI. Almost all high-level tech was bound to its user in some way, so even if it was stolen or hacked, the device would usually be near useless to anyone who was not the owner.
Most saw this as a valuable failsafe for their property. Others saw it as a valuable opportunity.
Cracking became big business in the
seedier worlds. Gangs and hacker collectives saw the potential in being able to find a way around this supposed failsafe. With some careful tampering and/or less careful physical force, they found a way to access these devices.
Unfortunately, it was far from perfect. Those methods did not negate the failsafe, merely slipped between many of the defenses and created new ways to unlock or force the activation of the device.
This came with a new set of problems. The devices could potentially be used, but not with one-hundred-percent effectiveness. On top of that, the methods were specific. When something was cracked, it was for a specific purpose. If you wanted access to a program on a computer you might get it, but if you even accidentally clicked on the recycle bin, it might literally blow up in your face.
The Dead-Eye with the cracked EI had sadly learned this the fatal way.
According to his one-time leader, he got the EI cracked and loaded into a neural lens he’d obtained from the black market so he could use the link function in a limited capacity. He would supposedly have access to his Hacker Suite in the field, but the dumbass decided to test out the Pro-EI’s Hacker Suite to see the difference.
The device short-circuited, and not only shocked him and fried his lens, but the turret he had been able to deactivate just fine with his normal suite was reactivated. It shot, as the leader put it, an obscene number of holes into him.
Kaiden believed any number more than zero would probably qualify, but the image was still clear.
A blinking light alerted him, and Kaiden snapped out of his thoughts. The screen now flashed a countdown—fifty-one seconds until arrival.
He left his seat and began walking to the line that had formed in front of the door to the tube. Another loud splash sounded as the hyperloop breached the water and the glow strips faded away.
The others’ excitement was palpable, and he had to admit that his own nervous energy had grown.
He didn’t know what this would bring, but dealing with the unknown was kind of his forte. With outward calm, he exited the train and looked around the station, seeing older men and women in jackets like Sasha’s waving the students down and loading them onto buses.
Initiates were separated by the colors of their rings, but a small group with no uniforms had gathered beside a bus on the far end. He walked over to them, and, upon closer inspection, noticed something rather odd. A few near the back talked to each other in hushed voices, concern and surprise evident on their faces.
Kaiden didn’t pay them much mind—just nerves, he reasoned—but then noticed a slightly larger group who were all rather bizarre-looking. They were all dressed in full-body one-pieces with intricate patterns and some sort of cylinder on their back. The only exposed parts of their body were their heads.
Skin colors were varying shades of blue, from light cyan to dark purple. Ripples and patterns wove through their flesh, and they all wore some sort of mask covering either their full face or only their mouth. These were attached to some sort of apparatus around their neck filled with a dark liquid.
Kaiden wondered whether they were part of some flamboyant gang, or perhaps a special division of some kind. As he drew closer, not hiding the fact he was trying to get a closer look, one of them turned to look at him. He was periwinkle and interlocking triangle patterns in the shape of a crescent bordered his eyes, which were large dark pools of an inky color. Holy shit, they’re aliens!
He now understood the hushed but amazed whispers from the other humans.
Kaiden had never seen an alien this close before since they were quite rare in the outside world. Ever since the first contact and war at the beginning of the twenty-second century and the ceasefire in 2134, alien beings that came to Earth were usually closely guarded and generally stayed among the cloud cities in the stratosphere or in the few orbitals in space.
Seeing one face to face rather than on a screen at whatever alliance-come-lately shindig was quite something.
He…she…the alien raised a hand in the air, the five fingers held apart like an exaggerated high-five. Kaiden looked it over with more detailed scrutiny. Its anatomy seemed mostly humanoid, but he couldn’t tell too much due to the body suit it wore and the scuba-like mouth mask on its face. He did note, though, that this one was bald, while the ones behind it had some sort of leaf-like material protruding from their heads—or perhaps featureless tentacles—either wrapped into sections or bundled together. Their ears were concave holes in the sides of their heads.
Kaiden looked at the alien in front of him again, its hand still raised. He raised his own hand slowly, hoping he understood the situation and that the alien wasn’t flipping him off in some sort of cultural gesture and he’d unwittingly returned the favor.
If that was the case and the alien suddenly got bent out of shape, he might have to punch an alien in its stupid facemask.
“Hey, man.” The alien greeted him in a low, mechanical voice. Kaiden saw a light blink on its mask on as it spoke.
“Howdy,” Kaiden replied as he put his hand down, the alien following suit. “You got a translator in that bear-trap?”
“I do. It is an EI with a translator function, although it does not register what ‘howdy’ means.”
“It’s a way people say hello where I’m from,” Kaiden replied.
“I see. Interesting. The man who gave me this device said it was loaded with all words and languages of importance and intelligence on Earth. He said if I should hear a word that the translator does not know, talking to that person would be a waste of time.”
Kaiden’s eyes narrowed. “Do you happen to know where that guy was from?”
“California. That’s what the doctorate on his wall said.”
“That’s about right,” Kaiden muttered. “My name is Kaiden Jericho. Can you tell me yours or is that some sort of sacred thing over yonder?”
“What is a ‘yonder?’”
“Goddammit, you got a name?” Kaiden huffed.
“I do, although I have been told that I should tell others my name is Geno.”
“Doesn’t sound too exotic. Why were you told that?”
“My species’ language is not truly compatible with most phonetic languages. A proper translation of my name, though it is quite short, would be the equivalent of 244 letters in English.”
Kaiden’s head tilted to the side. “Sweet and salty messiah, how do you speak naturally?”
“It’s somewhat equivalent to your sonar, using sounds of various pitches, tones, and length. It’s almost inaudible to normal human ears, but I have been told it is quite pleasant when listened to through audio equipment.”
Kaiden stared at the alien for a moment, trying to come to grips with what he had said. “Really, now?”
“Yes, some of my people have actually made recordings and sold them through the internet. Amusing to me, considering it is mostly gibberish. One of the more popular tracks is about how humans enjoy eating fruit cups while sitting on Martian rocks.”
Kaiden chuckled. “Was that creative choice or some weird stereotype?”
“It is a battle song, I believe.”
“You guys have peculiar insults.”
“Does it help to know that the man had the rocks in his rectum?”
Kaiden scratched his head and chuckled. “Closer, yeah.”
A voice interrupted their conversation. The proctor bellowed, “Everybody, get in single file and prepare to board. Human initiates to Carrier Five, and Tsuna to Carrier Six.” The group formed a line to the doors of the buses. The proctor had a tablet and began asking for identification before each one boarded.
“I believe you humans go through different processing than we do, but I hope to see you again,” Geno said quickly.
“Hope so too, man. Gotta say, it was a pretty cool experience to meet my first alien,” Kaiden replied with a smirk.
“You seem to have taken to it quickly, which is a welcome change. I shall have to learn more stupid words from you.” With that, he depa
rted, leaving Kaiden to ponder whether he actually knew what he was saying.
He walked over to his designated carrier and showed the proctor his ID. “Kaiden Jericho.”
“I see, got a recommendation less than twenty-four hours ago from former commander Sasha, no less. Must have been an impressive display. Sasha isn’t exactly the hand-out type.”
“He said you guys could use some fighters. I can do that.”
“Good to know.” The proctor punched something into his pad. “It’ll probably give you a lot of profession options, and you’ll be out of your contract in no time.”
“Do what now?” Kaiden asked, taken aback. He didn’t remember signing anything. Had the whiskey hit him hard at some point? Had he made deals he didn’t mean and done things he probably enjoyed but would regret and cause him to wake up in cold sweats? Was yesterday Thursday? Shit!
“I don’t remember signing a contract. All I got was this.” Kaiden showed the proctor his EI box.
“When a Nexus EI is transferred to you, you agree to at least come to the school and go through processing. Don’t worry, the real deal will be explained to you by a guidance counselor. After that, you will have a physical and EI integration,” the man explained as he closed his tablet and pointed to his right. “Go onto the carrier and choose an open seat.”
Kaiden huffed as he put the box away and got onto the bus. He chose a seat near the back and surveyed the carrier, a double-decker with room for at least forty on the bottom half. While he waited, he saw about fifty humans gather in his group during boarding call and probably the same number of aliens. If this was everyone, there were around three hundred people going in. There were probably some people who had gotten in early or driven themselves, so he guessed the final count would be around five hundred.
He looked out the window to see a sign that read Welcome to Bellingham. The city sprawled over the hillside reminded him of Fresno, a modest city at one point that had become a metropolis as time and fortunes moved forward. He leaned back and tried to drift off for a bit, pondering what the Academy would look like, what it would be like, and what this contract they wanted to sucker him into contained.