Announcement

Collapse
No announcement yet.

For want of a horseshoe. Chapter 2.

Collapse
X
 
  • Filter
  • Time
  • Show
Clear All
new posts

  • For want of a horseshoe. Chapter 2.

    One of the hardest things for Geoffrey to get used to was the holo-net. Old as he was, he still remembered the University's neverending net broadcasts on some obscure field of study, some small achievement of discovery. It was a live-time nearly endless display of what the human mind could do when inspired...

    Today, it was a constant barage of inane entertainment aimed at the mindless drones that were only driven to rage when their luxuries were denied to them. Contests that pitted men against each other for the smallest bit of coin and displays of vulgar greed for the vaguest chance at promotion. Not to mention the constant blaring propaganda that preached the dangers of the Hive's mindless masses. As if their own people were any better.

    This much made him smile in a lazy sort of way. Any thought of anger was squelched by instinct. The implants in his head, Morgan designed of course, made it impossible for him to even entertain a thought of retribution or justice. Nevermind that the majority of the people in his own city never even saw him, even when he walked in front of them. Or that when they 'did' see him, it was only to look down upon him for his low status and obvious Drone status.

    Drone. What a laugh. He'd joined the masses that had brought down his beloved University. He would have weeped from frustration if he had been able. As it were, he only sighed and waited for the monorail to get to his stop.

    Greyheaded and railthin, his eyes stray upward toward the purple sky, for what passed for the night on this world. He remembered back to his earliest days, his father had told him of Earth and how their ancestors had dug up old bones from the ground, remnants of great things that had died so long ago. He felt like one of those old remnants, a relic of something dead and buried and he so wanted to be rid of that feeling. Or die and get it over with. Unable to help himself, he felt the despair sweeping over him, and the old man grips the handrail above him, waiting for the endorphine rush to wipe the depression from him yet again.

    They wouldn't even let him grieve for the past. Not for long.

    His sanctum, such as it was, was paid for out of his meager salary. It came with a daily allotment of food, water and air. The money that was left could be used to purchase Holo-net broadcasts or the various bits of luxury if he so wanted. As it stood, thirty years of servitude and pushing a mop had given Geoffrey the chance to save some few hundred credits. His palm was pressed to the reader outside the door, opening without pause to admit the tired janitor into the one room cell. It took the ex-professor some moments to realize that the lights hadn't come on before the door closed behind him.

    "Professor Geoffrey Banks."

    A soft voice, young and cool, brushed against his ear and the old man whimpered without meaning to do so. They'd come for him at last, and he didn't know if he should thank then or just wait for the shot that would end his torment. Instead, the lights came back on, stabbing pain into his eyes, removing any chance of seeing just yet who spoke to him. Blinking away tears and trying to push the confusion from his thoughts, he focuses on the blurry form that slowly coalesces into a slim blackclad female.

    Memory cloth. It defeated thermal scans, biorhythm sensors and tracking devices. An almost instinctive reaction to seeing the spy's gear, remembering that much. Still blinking, he glances around furtively before looking back to the girl that leaned against the wall next to the small window.

    "You're not here to kill me for Morgan, so either you're a spy come to recruit me or a ruse to get me to implicate myself. Except Morgan hasn't ever needed a reason to kill old teachers. So. What do you want?"

    Where had 'that' come from?

    The young woman only smiled and pushed off the wall and wandered over to the wary ex-University man, her hand lifting to brush against his cheek.

    "What I want isn't important. It's what 'she' wants, and what you can do to ensure that she gets it. If you help me...her...us...then I can give you something that even your tired old mind hasn't conceived yet."

    So lazy, that tone. Lazy, yet assured, as if she were in possession of some nugget of knowledge worth far more than any amount of Energy.

    "Revenge? I'm too tired for revenge. So, don't you 'dare' try to tempt me with that." The surge of anger and indignation, tired frustration flowed through him and he shoved the woman away from him. "Now, you can leave or I can call..." Blinking a few times, realizing finally, that he 'had' been angry...He was 'still' angry.

    The confusion on his face must have been obvious, as the girl lifted a small device and twirled it about in her palm. "Neural implant bypass. Domai's scientists discovered it some years ago. Very much a blackmarket toy, still. They have some serious dislike of Morgan, though, so..." A shrug before she stepped forward again and slapped Geoffrey across the face, rocking his head back.

    Blood. Oh, how he had hated violence in his youth. It was uncouth and barbaric. That was before he saw the University burn and fall back into what was true barbarity. Stunned by the blow, he could only stare down at the woman, still overwhelmed by anger, confusion, frustration and strangely enough...something else.

    "I never said revenge. I'm sure you've pondered 'that' for decades. No, what I offer is something far more, ahh, pure."

    Slapping the device into the man's palm and smiling a touch, she steps back and glanced to the window before speaking again, soft and leisurely.

    "Just how far would you go to rescue your Provost, Professor?"


    ~I~

  • #2
    "Who 'are' you?"

    If the suspected spy was enjoying her game, she hid it unsurprisingly well. A coyly cool smile on her lips as she shrugs. "What do you want to know, Professor? My name? Who I work for? What I call myself?"

    "Yes."

    Laughter that was perhaps not feigned was her only response for some moments. "My name, you don't need to know. Doubly so for who I work for. But, you can call me Conduit. It's a suitable name for now."

    The former head of Sentient Programming for the former Provost of the former University of Planet was still reeling from the fact that he 'could' be reeling. That his forced chemical chaining had been negated, if temporarily. The smallish oval nondescript device was slipped into his pocket even as his steps carried him over to the functional bed near the wall.

    "Conduit. Okay, I've heard stranger names. I'm curious as to how you came to the conclusion that I was deluded, insane or naive. Because the Provost is 'gone'. And I'm a god damned janitor now, in case this outfit didn't give it away. I don't have any security clearance, I don't have any access to their network. I haven't even 'touched' a computer network in thirty years, so unless your superiors want me to do their windows, then they're wasting their time and mine. As well as risking my life with your theatrics."

    Oh, but it felt good to lash out with sharp words, to loathe and despise, to be bitter and vindictive. Any minute now, she'd try to take the bypass back and then he'd go back to being a mopping zombie. But, until then, he'd speak his mind freely, probably for the last time. He was strangely content with that. Morgan Security would be there soon enough, he was sure.

    "Professor, you're smarter than that. We knew all of this before I was even dispatched to find you. And despite all of that, you were determined to be the one with the greatest chance of success." She had not stirred from her resting spot leaning against the opposite wall, black clad and looking entirely too secure in herself. "And before you ask, that determination was reached because the rest of your research team is already dead."

    "Research team?..." Oh. Well, he had to expect that someone would eventually try again.

    "The Hunter Seeker Project, yes. My superiors are in the process of recreating your life's work. Minus the mopping. Now, if you're not interested, I'll simply nod and go on about my way. With my bypass, admittedly, but I have no reason to kill you or even alert Security to my intrusion. After all, you don't even know who I work for." Clearly, it had been a prepared spiel, and one given with an enticing dispassion. This was just another job to her, obviously. That only made Geoffrey all that much more angry. Something he relished with far too much glee, more than was healthy.

    "Technology's advanced leaps and bounds since I worked on the Seeker program. Surely, you've got better men, far younger and far more passionate about it than me."

    "That's not my problem. I'm just here to make the offer. Help my superiors and they'll probably send me in to find your Provost and get him out of whatever monkey-cage they've got him in. So, what's it going to be, Jeff?"

    For a brief moment, the former Professor entertained himself with a visual of beating the woman to death with his boot. A savage fantasy brought on by the nearly three decades of repressed hatred and anger at the injustices he and his people had suffered. It didn't help that this coolly collected young woman didn't seem to have 'any' emotions, where he'd had his chained down with his own manipulated chemistry.

    "Very well, how can I help?"

    Only then would the spy smile and push off of the wall and move to open the window. "We'll be in touch, but it's safe to assume that you'll be doing some snooping about in your old stomping grounds."

    "But, the Project site has been paved over for decades. They built the Sphere there." And with good reason. The formerly hostile drones that had burned the city's schools in a rage of frustration and misguided hatred had been quickly brought to heel by the Morgans' ruthless joy in stapling anyone that didn't toe the line. All too late, they'd learned that some Devils were worse than others.

    A last bit of laughter, the woman was easily and quickly managing to squeeze herself out of a hole no more than a foot and a half wide and tall. It led to a few interesting contortions that kept the Professor watching. "Never said it'd be easy, Professor. Oh, and keep that bypass hidden. If they find it, they won't find me, but they'll peel you good. See you."

    Even as the woman's legs slithered out, they began to fade, adjusting the metallic sheen of the outside wall, giving her a visual shield against detection that went well with her technological shields against being spied by cameras, sensors and lasers. Perhaps an empath could have found her, but Morgan didn't trust them, or so he'd heard.

    The Seeker. He'd made a concerted effort for more than twenty five years to suppress the memories of his failure, the destruction of his work and the subsequent loss of home, purpose, family and passion. But, as he lay there on the bed, lights blazing, he thought back to those earlier days, before he was a Drone, before he was a drugged captive of those who'd destroyed everything he cared about...Worse of all, they'd done it simply to save a few credits.

    Rage warred with sorrow for an endless minute and it was only the memory of the Seeker's last question, last inquiry before it was shunted off to a storage node that had already been destroyed, that had broke the stalemate.

    "Geoffrey, why are you scared?"

    The old man curled in on himself and for the first time in thirty years, wept.


    ~I~

    Comment


    • #3
      revenge
      if you want to stop terrorism; stop participating in it

      ''Oh,Commissar,if we could put the potatoes in one pile,they would reach the foot of God''.But,replied the commissar,''This is the Soviet Union.There is no God''.''Thats all right'' said the worker,''There are no potatoes''

      Comment


      • #4
        Yes How dare you destroy the great university!
        A university faculty is 500 egoists with a common parking problem

        Comment

        Working...
        X