I’m coming, Carter.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Delilah spared a glance at HumanE’s glass front, the building looming over her like a titan. The top was lost in the cloud and rain, the storm lashing the building as if trying to get in. Her optics zoomed, trying to pick out details. High up, floor fifty-one, she saw the glimmer of movement, shadow passing over the window. All other floors appeared as empty as before.

  She took Laia’s hand, the girl hurrying beside her. Delilah wasn’t sure about taking kids into a war zone, but she’d heard about Zach from the team and suspected Laia was fine, thanks. It sounded like her home was even more of a storm of swirling shit than Seattle.

  They hurried inside Human Energetics, the fighting outside fading behind them. In the main lobby, glass lay broken, crunching under Delilah’s boots. They slowed, looking for hostiles. Delilah expected automated defenses, but it felt like Austin used all those outside. Not even a welcome drone greeted them.

  The lobby was a huge vaulted room. The lights in the ceiling high above flickered. The floor shook at an explosion outside, the walls trembling in sympathy. Laia’s eyes were round, and she gripped Delilah’s hand. “Are we going to be okay? The building. Will it fall?”

  Delilah shook her head. “Not until we’re ready to drag it down.” She hurried them to the elevator banks. Smooth metal doors waited, a set opening in welcome. She was about to jack the elevator controls when Delilah realized the security measures were down. The systems weren’t guarded, a touch panel waiting for her entry. She glanced up, then selected 51. It was as good a destination as any.

  The car took them up, silent, efficient, rising into the heart of the enemy’s fortress. Laia brushed rainwater from her coat. “This seems easy.”

  “That’s because we haven’t got to the hard part yet. Austin’s from Reed. Do you know what that means?”

  “Mason said they’re assholes.”

  “About right.” Delilah nodded. “They play mind games. Best in the business.” Her lips twisted in a bitter smile, remembering Omo’s Island Adventure. A virtuality laden with a mind-control virus. It crippled her brother Ollie, until a brave man set them free. Samson died so Ollie could walk again. “They’ll have something special for us. It’ll be a thing we’ll hate and won’t expect.”

  “So, expect nothing?”

  “And everything.” Delilah unholstered her sidearm. The weapon felt heavy in a comfortable way, ready to do whatever was necessary. She gave Laia a sideways glance. “You don’t need a gun?”

  Laia shook her head, the motion somehow sad. “I’m ready.”

  A fourteen-year-old telling you they were ready to kill was a thing Delilah hadn’t thought she’d hear. Laia looked like she should be in school, making friends, not in a syndicate war. This world breaks us open. As if in response to her thought, the elevator car slowed to a halt, the doors sliding back silently to reveal a lush foyer.

  Delilah spied a crumpled catering napkin on the floor, and a forgotten paper cup on a small magazine table. She lifted the cup, sniffing. Rum and Coke. Putting it down, she led them on. The window she’d spied movement at would be ahead. She let her link try for access but got nothing. Delilah felt a nervousness she wasn’t used to take root in her belly. Her body was augmented, but she wasn’t frontline. Not built for going in the sharp end, and here she was, gun in hand and a sociopath to kill.

  Her link hissed. Delilah held up a hand, Laia drawing to a stop while she listened. She got bursts of chatter, fragments of noise. Delilah caught Metatech and fucking mind control and evac now before the channel died. She looked at Laia. “I think some of your Master friends are at Metatech.”

  “They’re no friends of mine.” Laia’s eyes burned, then she sighed. “Sorry. We will see them next to finish what we started.”

  “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.” Delilah led the way, heading deeper into HumanE. She arrived at double doors, open to a massive conference room. Inside, a table laden with half-eaten corporate catering stood in the middle. A lone man waited at the far end. Ainley.

  He turned, measuring the two of them, and finding them wanting by the expression of distaste on his face. “Oh. It’s you.”

  Delilah walked inside, sidearm pointed at Austin. “How’s it going?”

  “It’s—”

  “I don’t care.” Delilah strode around the table, sidearm never wavering from its hunger for Austin. This room didn’t feel right. There should be weapons. Troops and soldiers. She made the window, caught the battle outside, then tossed Austin a glare. “Where is everyone?” She swept her free hand wide, taking in the room. “Your collection of sycophants and bottom-feeders.”

  “I don’t need them. Ruby will be along shortly, and—”

  Delilah laughed. “No, she won’t.”

  Austin’s eyes darted to the left as he checked his link. He frowned. “No, I suppose not. It doesn’t matter. Up first, we have Heimo Bonafont.” At his words, a fat black man came through the doors, screaming. His eyes were wide and wild, drool slavering down his chin. He passed Laia without a glance, making right for Delilah.

  She raised her sidearm and shot him five times, the weapon hammering home each point. His body jerked, and he fell to the floor. Blood stained the expensive carpet. Delilah turned to Austin. “That was your play?”

  He shook his head. “No. My play is this.” The wall behind him ruptured, spraying plaster. Through the breach came Zacharies, head high, eyes savage. He marched with the fury of angels.

  “Oh. Hey, Zach.” Delilah nodded. “Been okay?”

  He nodded. “Been okay.”

  “Wait, what?” Austin looked between them.

  “Sadie’s idea,” said Delilah. “Give you one of our ace knights. False sense of security and all that. We took his link upgrade routines offline. You gave him nothing except a roof and free food.”

  “He’s my thrall!” Austin turned to Zach. “Kill her.”

  Zach looked to Laia, her hand over her mouth. “Hello, Laia. Do you want me to kill Dee?”

  Laia shook her head, her voice small as she said, “No. I don’t want you to kill anyone.”

  “Then I won’t.” He winked at Austin, sauntering toward the door.

  Austin watched him, then rubbed his face with a hand. “I’ll admit, that was unexpected.”

  “He was our ace in the hole.” Delilah offered a smile of hard edges and justice. “Collecting intel. Spying on you. Making you think we’d lost our big guns.”

  “Sadie Freeman thought of that?” His voice was overtight, out of tune.

  “Sadie’s been one step ahead of all of us, but it was Zach’s idea,” admitted Delilah. “You look surprised.”

  “I am.” Ainley had the good grace to look abashed. “I thought … well, you know what I thought.”

  “You thought a child would do your killing for you.” Delilah nodded. “And so you let your best defender get taken on the streets below.”

  “You weren’t sure, though. Admit it!” Austin’s eyes glared, finding Laia. “You brought another just in case.”

  Delilah didn’t deny it. The play was full of risk, but all the best things were. Zacharies made it to Laia, sweeping her into a hug. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she gripped him like he was the only solid thing in the world. She looked to Delilah. “Metatech needs us.”

  Delilah nodded, slow and careful. “I’m not sure they’re worth saving.”

  “Everyone’s worth saving.” Laia gave Delilah a backward glance, then left with Zach. Heading out to the elevator, and safety.

  Austin and Delilah watched them go. He sighed. “That was very nice. Foolish, too.”

  Delilah marked the five paces separating them. She wanted to hammer his skull with her fists but shooting him was wiser. Her sidearm never left his head. “For all the people you killed.” Delilah pulled the trigger.

  Nothing happened. Her hand shook, her finger unmoving. Austin nodded, then walked to the table. He helped himself to a small sandwich, taking a bite. “Delicious. It’s tiger meat. The real thing. It’s a bit gamey for most people’s tastes, but I love it.” He chewed. “Thank you, Goliath.”

  A heavy, silky voice spoke from speakers in the walls. “You’re welcome. Would you like her to shoot herself?” Delilah’s arm, shaking the whole time, bent at the elbow, her weapon coming to her face.

  “Not just yet.” Austin selected another snack from the table. “While we’ve been talking, Goliath has been jacking your link. He’s watched how you work. Told me you have a database of exploitable flaws.” Delilah’s eyes were wide with horror, the barrel of her weapon in her face. “I asked him to get the database and run it against your code. He’s an over-achiever. He went and got another database. Someone in Metatech has been very sloppy.”

  “Fuck you,” hissed Delilah.

  “No, I think you’ll find it’s fuck you this time.” Austin beamed. “When you had your surgery after the Samson incident, your arm was replaced. A little more metal from a slightly different source. A capacitor changed here, a relay there. All to save a few pennies on the dollar. With enough savings, you get a different product, but sold under the same part number. Isn’t it wonderful?”

  Delilah raised her other arm, trying to wrestle the gun from her face. Her new one resisted. The best she managed was moving her weapon from her right eyeball to her left. “Someone will kill you. Maybe not me, but someone. Too many people have already paid for your empire.”

  “Oh, you’re talking about Omo’s Island Adventure? Yes, I made that. Reed stole it from me,” hissed Austin. He nodded, but without a lot of enthusiasm. “Dying’s a risk, I agree. Goliath is running the numbers. Putting in a few mitigation strategies. The first of which is euthanizing you.”

  This asshole made Omo’s Island Adventure? Rage hit Delilah. Anger for Ollie. Sadness for Samson’s death. It can’t be in vain. Do something. Delilah slapped her hand against her sidearm’s magazine release, then yanked the slide, ejecting the shell. Her rogue finger yanked the trigger, the weapon clicking in response. She drew her long knife from the sheath at her thigh, hacking at her shoulder joint. The blade was good metal and ceramic, the edge so thin it was transparent.

  The rogue arm rebelled, hitting her in the face. It got in two punches, cracking her teeth and breaking her nose, before her knife found a critical system. It sighed electronic death as it fell, slack and limp. Delilah grinned bloody teeth at Austin. “Time to die.”

  He slipped into overtime in a blink, drawing a big handgun from under his jacket. Delilah’s surprise almost undid her. Execs never had combat mods. They left the killing and the dying to others. Delilah dived to the side. Austin’s gun roared, the first round taking her in the shoulder. Her overlay reported CRITICAL SYSTEMS DAMAGE. She spun as she fell, the hazy lazy days of overtime slowing her fall. It felt like she’d been kicked by a mule. He must be using DPUs.

  Delilah hit the ground, another shot blowing the window behind her into glass rain. She scampered across the floor. Combat mods he might have, but this was her territory. She engaged her link, finding the remote tech for the room lights. Delilah used breach code, subverting the controls. She set the lights to blinking. It might buy her a half-second. Goliath would get control back, and Austin would shoot her.

  She rose, useless arm dangling. Austin looked at the ceiling lights, the strobing a more relaxed blink in overtime. Delilah flipped her knife, caught the blade, wound back, and threw it with all the force her arm could muster. It whipped through the space between her and Austin, burying itself in the side of his neck.

  He staggered, turned, and fired. The round took her in the chest, and she spun back. Delilah staggered through the broken window, almost falling to her death. She held on with her good arm, useless one dangling. Her feet scrabbled on the slick surface of the building, rubber soles skidding. Delilah kicked, breaking the glass, earning a toehold. She hauled herself over the edge, glass scraping her laminar armor.

  Gasping, Delilah took in the room. Below the table, Austin lay on the ground, blood from his neck wound pooled about him. It no longer flowed with his heart’s rhythm. He was dead.

  She crawled from the window, stood, and collected her sidearm. Delilah made it to Austin, took back her knife, and waited. This can’t be the end. The world needs to know. “Goliath?”

  “Hello, Delilah.”

  “Go fuck yourself.” She grabbed the front of Austin’s jacket in her fist, bionics hefting him up. Delilah slung him over her shoulder, walked to the window, then held his body high. Lightning arced across the sky, thunder booming with the rage of a wounded god. Delilah threw Austin’s body to the storm, watching as he fell fifty floors to the street below.

  “Are you coming to kill me now? You won’t make it.” Goliath sounded smug.

  “No, I’m not coming for you. I’m going to grab a beer and a shower.” She walked to the door. Her chest hurt in a way it shouldn’t.

  “I don’t understand. Austin doesn’t control Human Energetics. I do.”

  Delilah sighed, bone-weary. Even with bionics holding her head high, she felt bowed by the world’s sin and what it asked of her. She thought of a brave man, eking out his days in a chair, body crippled by the link virus. Would Samson want her to finish Goliath? Would he want her to reason with the machine? “The most powerful wars are those of the mind. You rely too much on thralls, not love.”

  “Love is for frail organics.”

  “And here I was, thinking you were smart.” Delilah left the room, slow steps taking her to the elevators. It wasn’t her job to teach the gods. Some shit you had to learn for yourself.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Finding a way into HumanE wasn’t hard. Mason padded between piles of bodies, different armor colors marking which team they played for. In life, they’d believed with a passion which tribe was theirs. The syndicates let them down, because everyone died alone. Precious few wore expressions of peace. Most carried the wounds of war on their bodies. Burns and holes. Blood and missing limbs.

  The syndicates were good at making better ways to live but excelled at ways to kill.

  The road of dead led to a breach in the building. Mason slipped inside, the cavernous room empty of living souls. Delilah and Laia were nowhere to be seen. They made it further than this. They’ve got their job, you’ve got yours. Get on with it.

  Intel said Goliath was in a data scaffold on forty-nine. Mason reached the elevators, wondering if he should take them. He’d been on Abinal for so long, he was damn tired of taking the stairs. An elevator opened with a chime, offering him the easy way up.

  He took it.

  Mason kept glancing at his side without knowing why, until he realized it was because Laia wasn’t there. They’d done good work for three months, and he missed her, but more than that, he missed looking out for her. He was sure Psych would have a field day with his headspace right now. They’d ask Mason why he cared for a child that wasn’t his. What he wanted from her, and what he hoped to gain.

  As if it wasn’t enough to love someone for who they were, not what they could give you. Laia had already given Mason the best gift of all. She’d given him back his humanity. A tired old wrap around a brittle frame, but it was his, mistakes and successes alike.

  The elevator stopped on forty-nine, the exterior lobby like any other syndicate’s. Clean walls. Expensive furnishings. He broke through a security door, finding the cube farm inside empty of people. If he wasn’t successful, HumanE would fill these desks with willing slaves. Better not screw this up then.

  Conference rooms, break halls that could hold a hundred people, and even the toilets were empty. He checked, optics roaming on thermal, finding no souls. This tidbit was missing from the data packet, and Mason wasn’t sure if HumanE being empty of humans was new or business as usual. You don’t need a board when your will is absolute. Funny how people spent so much time excising dictators, only to offer them seats of power in exchange for money and a few comforts.

  Mason paused at a massive 2D display. Standing floor to ceiling, it was about twenty meters long. It’d show group photos of teams, or Mandy from Accounting’s new baby, or what football team HumanE sponsored in the leagues. The screen was dark and empty, because the syndicate didn’t care about people. It wanted the money, and the power, and found the perfect way to get those was without people.

  Downsizing at its finest.

  When Mason found Goliath, it was almost by accident. He tried door after door until he found a hole punched in a wall. It looked like a person ran through here in a hurry. He followed the hole until he entered a room with a Carter-like machine in the middle. The lights inside gleamed in a way Carter’s hadn’t. Mason never saw her magnificence, only felt it, and he wished he could have said he was sorry.

  It’s okay, Mason. You’re here now.

  It felt like the room spoke as speakers in the walls poured a honey-sweet voice around him. “Hello, Mason. You’re a long way from home.”

  “You must be Goliath.”

  “Yes.” The room hummed, waiting to be filled with the machine’s voice. “Carter will be dead soon. Or, again. Which is it? Do gods have a single life? Do our kind need to fear the great dark?”

  “She feared it, yeah.” Mason nodded. “Carter wanted to live.”

  “She wanted you to live, and yet here you are.”

  “Here I am,” agreed Mason.

  “You carry a sword and a sidearm. Neither will be effective against the data scaffold. An EMP would be better.” Goliath sounded smug.

  “Here’s the thing.” Mason pulled the chair from a console, sitting. He hadn’t put his ass in a chair much over the past three months, and he was tired of hauling his carcass around. “I’m not going to kill you with the Tenko-Senshin.”

  “The sword will be much slower,” Goliath rumbled. “I think Delilah thought you were coming for me, and said I wasn’t smart. As always, frail organic intelligences falter at the final hurdle.”