CHAPTER ONE
The College, Eastern UT, December 2, 2308 06:00:00 (T-Minus 02:06:03:12)
The alarm went off at exactly six am, just like every other day. Slade Meechan rose from his single bed and crossed the tile floor to the utilitarian washroom. The motion sensor activated the lights as he entered the stainless steel and glass room. The washbasin was already filling with thirty-nine degree water, preset when he had accepted this room – Dwelling 020217.
The College was a sprawling, spiral-like complex, with each dwelling representing a geographical address within the complex. There were twelve radii – one for each month, with each radius having three floors, and thirty-one rooms on each floor. To say The College was daunting was an understatement. There are six Colleges in the World now – one in each zone, except Australia.
All emissaries were assigned rooms according to their birth date. For him, that meant Radius two, Floor two, Room seventeen. The main floor held all the administrative offices that kept The College running, and the upper floors held the Gym, a Common room that almost no one used, and Cafeteria.
At all times, there were two thousand, one hundred and sixty Alpha Emissaries on Active Duty. There was the same number of Beta Emissaries – ready to take over as an Alpha at a moments notice.
Each dwelling was identical, a short hallway leading from the access door into a sparse living area furnished with an armchair, lamp, end table, coffee table and viewing screen. From the living area, to the left was the kitchen, which has your standard LG Industries MKIII synthesis unit, a garbage disposal, compost and recycling bins, and dish cleaner. To the right, was the bedroom Slade had just exited, with its single bed, small window, and table with lamp.
As Slade looked into the mirror, he could see the beginnings of wrinkles. This job was tough. Slade was forty years old, but he looked fifty. Still young, by today's standards, where the average person lived well into their hundred and twenties – The Scores, they called them – but still old by visible standards. Non-Emissary individuals didn't begin to show wrinkles until their eighties, and only then if they were exposed to the harsh exterior of our post-nuclear world. Like he normally did, Slade used his sub dermal tattoo to alter his face, hiding the more noticeable wrinkles and lines.
Slade shaved quickly, and activated the shower, which was preset to forty-five degrees. As he was rinsing his hair, he heard the distinctive sound of the LND, Letter Notification Device. That meant he had work. Apparently iCorps had someone on its list. Slade quickly finished up, toweled off, and headed to the terminal located just outside the kitchen.
Slade pressed the flashing red light.
"Identification, please." The terminal's pleasant female voice inquired.
"Meechan, Slade. Dwelling 020217. Emissary 0247893 Alpha."
"Voice pattern recognized. Proceed with biometric confirmation."
He lowered his head to the terminal for the retinal scan, at the same time inserting his right hand into the terminal for simultaneous fingerprint identification. If any of the three scans failed, countermeasures would instantly terminate the impostor trying to access the system.
"Biometric scan confirmed. Proceed with download, Emissary 0247893."
The red light turned blue, and Slade pushed the button, initiating the download. The viewing screen in his living area came to life, and the image and details of his Target flared on the screen. Two pictures of the man were on the left, a profile and front-view. Information began to appear beside the pictures. There was a small square in the upper right hand corner of the screen. The form of a figure was completely silhouetted, and only the dark grey outline was visible. The voice began:
"Target is Randy Emery Herman, age sixty-two. Herman was convicted eighteen years ago of first-degree murder of government officials and the attempted assassination of Principal Leeds of the Alberta Territory. He was last seen entering Ukraine Territory yesterday at 1730 hours. Subject could be armed, and should be considered extremely dangerous."
"Why am I going for him? Surely there is someone in Europe Territory who can deliver." Slade asked.
"Herman originates in your Territory, 0247893, and as such he is your target." He knew that already. It was part of basic training. But he had to ask.
"Anything else I should know?" He asked the screen.
"Target date: December 4, 2308, 12:03:12pm local time. Your flight leaves in thirteen hours, twelve minutes, Emissary 0247893 Alpha. Do not be late."
The screen went black again. As it did, a small opening in the wall below the screen produced his black six-inch Tablet. It was an identical copy of the information he saw on the screen. It was supposed to be a reference, but it also served as verification of the correct individual through fingerprint and retinal identification.
Though he had thirteen hours till his flight, it was time to move. Slade packed light; a couple changes of clothes, a holo-film for the flight to Ukraine Territory, and his standard issue Boom Stick. A Boom Stick is a handy weapon – it issues a shock to the person it's aimed at, incapacitating them and rendering them immobile. It's usually the only weapon an Emissary ever needs.