Diplomacy. It was not a skill Tool had been designed for.
“I have come for your help.”
PRIORITY SECURITY ALERT
Dossier: #1A 2385883
Pattern…MATCH.
Watchlist…MATCH.
ID…MATCH.
============================
***SECURITY/ADMIN LVL: 10/RED ONLY***
Keyword: Rogue
Rogue 228 asset identified—Blood/Karta-Kul.
Confirmation Confidence: 88/100
Location: GPS—42.3601° N, 71.0589° W
============================
Northern Free Trade Zone Seascape Boston…
*****PATEL GLOBAL HEADQUARTERS*****
31
JONES STARED AT the notice blinking on her screen, surprised by its sudden arrival.
For the last few months she had been working under Mercier’s Joint Forces director, Jonas Enge, as one of his intelligence analysts in the ExCom, and her world had become far removed from her previous life as a junior analyst on the Annapurna.
She now had a posh apartment in the SoCal Protectorate, with clear views of the bay and Los Angeles’s orleans. Every morning, Jones could watch fishermen’s skiffs making their way out to sea, permitted to set their nets in Mercier’s massive aquaculture zones, and every day she could watch them return with their catch under the red blaze of the setting sun, as it sank into the Pacific.
She had good eating in company cafeterias from menus unfettered by the space and storage and weight considerations of long-haul dirigible logistics.
She worked in the tallest sky tower in Los Angeles, only a few doors away from the Joint Forces director himself.
But the work…
She had thought she had known how Mercier worked before, but now, with Enge, she sat at the beating heart of Mercier’s empire: joint military exercises in the Chinese Co-Prosperity Sphere; intervention operations in the Mediterranean Free Trade Zone; contract territorial defense for the West African Technology Combine. She advised Enge as he defended trade and resource zones, seized control of mining operations, and assigned defense forces to manufacturing centers and corporate charter cities.
When the alert came in, she was sitting in Mercier’s quarterly status meeting, watching as Executive Committee directors discussed Mercier’s strategic situation. Around the table, directors of Finance, Manufacturing, Trade, R&D, Foreign Relations, Employee Loyalty & Retention, Facilities & Infrastructure, and more were arrayed.
The security alert popped up on her tablet at the same moment that Enge was arguing with Facilities & Infrastructure over fourth-generation Raptor upgrades.
Trade, of course, was entirely in favor, because the land routes across the Alps had become difficult of late, and she had a personal stake. And R&D was all in favor, given that the upgrades were likely to generate a tidy profit once they started licensing in the Chinese Co-Prosperity Sphere.
For a moment, Jones didn’t quite understand what she was seeing on her tablet.
Pattern.….MATCH.
Watchlist.….MATCH.
ID………MATCH.
She stared dumbly at the screen, taking in the rest, then wordlessly handed the tablet to Enge.
“We need to be stealthier,” Enge was saying. “The entire European theater has become difficult now that these localists have started arming with two-stage Spider missiles—” He glanced down at her tablet, dismissive, then froze. “Spider missiles…” he started again, before trailing off.
“You were saying?” Finance pressed.
Jones tapped the screen significantly, her finger over the line that had given her pause: PATEL GLOBAL HEADQUARTERS.
Enge frowned.
“Director Enge?” Finance pressed again.
“Clear the room of security personnel,” he said briskly.
Around the room, the augments who guarded the chamber exchanged uncertain glances.
“What’s going on?” Trade asked. Others were also looking askance, almost certainly suspecting that Enge was about to launch a coup.
Enge scowled. “A little trust from my counterparts would be appreciated.” He pressed his palm to Jones’s screen, overriding it with his own security authority. A second later, tablets around the table sprang to life as all the directors received the security alert as well.
It took only a moment before Finance nodded acquiescence. “Clear the room.”
Jones stood as well, intending to join the rest of the directors’ personal assistants, but Enge laid a hand on her arm, staying her as the rest of the lower-ranking personnel filed out. Jones watched as the elite Fast Attack augments made sure that all the assistants were gone, and then stepped outside themselves.
Soundproofed baffles descended. The air shuddered as they locked in place, isolating the ExCom from the outside world.
The expressions of the directors were somber as they read the security report.
“This is untenable,” Finance said softly.
Jones managed to retrieve her tablet from Enge, and scanned the rest of the report.
The alert had been triggered by blood work done by Patel Global. A medical query had been kicked out into larger Seascape medical-information systems that Mercier had infiltrated long ago as part of their security network. The analysis request had contained DNA information.
Jones frowned, studying her display. It appeared that a sequence of toxicology tests had been run, and then all the information had been routed back to medical facilities inside Patel Global’s headquarters.
They’d been running blood work on Karta-Kul, for certain.
“Maybe they killed him,” Enge suggested, “and they’re trying to ID him.”
“If that were the case, they would already be demanding explanations from us. Asking why we have an asset in their compound.”
Jones whispered to Enge, “This looks more like medical intervention.”
“What’s that?” Finance barked. “Speak up!”
Jones looked to Enge for permission. At his nod, she said, “It looks like the tests they’re running are all toxicology requests. They’re looking for cellular regeneration matches.”
“They’re healing him?” R&D asked, astonished.
“It’s hard to say.” Jones studied the data. “But they definitely have his blood in their labs, and they probably wouldn’t be running these particular diagnostics if he weren’t alive and getting medical aid from them.”
Trade gave a low curse. “Bad enough that we have diplomatic issues with the Seascape. Now it’s Patel Global.”
“We have to demand his return,” Enge said.
R&D was nodding vigorously. “They must surrender our property to us. It’s our intellectual property. They have no right to it.”
“Will they comply?” Trade asked.
“We can make a case that they’re holding our proprietary technology. There are espionage treaties. We can demand they return it,” Finance suggested.
“And if they refuse?” Trade pressed. “This isn’t like old man Caroa burning some third-rate city to the ground. This is Patel Global. The Seascape. They have allies. Mutual protection pacts.”
“Finance is right. We can invoke our rights under the C15 Prosperity Treaty,” Diplomacy said. “There are corporate espionage clauses. As long as we follow the treaty directives, we can legally go to war with them, and their mutual protection agreements will be void.”
“Joint Forces Director?” Finance asked.
Enge was nodding. “It’s relatively low-risk, militarily speaking. The problem is their allies. If we neutralize those, Patel Global…” He shrugged. “Not much of a challenge, really.”
“Won’t they deny they have him?” Jones asked timidly. “We don’t have anything except these blood reports.”
Enge gave her an irritated look. The rest of the directors all turned their gazes on her.
“How confident is the security scan, Analyst?” Finance asked softly.
Jones swallowed. “Eighty-eight percent, ma’am.”
Finance gave Enge a look of disgust. Others were shaking their heads.
Enge’s voice was soft, but cutting. “You’re here to solve problems, Jones. That’s why you were promoted. That’s why you’re here, at all.”
“Yes, sir.” She dipped her head to Finance as well. “I’ll get you the confirmations you need, ma’am.”
“We’re so very appreciative,” Finance said dryly. She turned to the rest of the table. “So. Pending a confirmation… is the board in agreement?”
R&D was nodding vigorously. “This technology must be terminated. It was a dangerous precedent, and foolish risk to try to create it. Caroa was a madman.”
Other directorate heads were also nodding.
“Very well,” Finance said. “We will demand the return of the augment, and if Patel Global does not comply, we will engage in trade, financial, electronic, and territorial war with Patel Global. All in favor?” She glanced around at the raised hands. “Unanimous affirmation. Mercier so directs.”
She nodded at Enge. “You have free rein, Joint Forces Director.”
“Thank you.” Enge was smiling. “They will give up the augment, or we will burn Patel Global off the face of the earth.”
32
“YOU’RE OWNED BY Mercier?” Nita could barely get the words out.
She had Tool hidden in her suite to avoid her father’s informers. Even now, she was worried that her use of the medical bays and Doctor Talint would filter up to her father’s ears, and now, it was even worse than she’d thought. “Mercier?”
“I am not owned,” Tool growled.
“Don’t split hairs with me!” Nita shot back. “You want us to fight Mercier? Risk that company as an enemy?” She could barely control her voice. “Do you know those people? Do you know what my father would say if he knew you were here? Our intelligence team has already has been watching Mercier closely. They’ve had their kill squads operating in the Seascape! They destroyed a whole city—” She couldn’t help but gape as she fit the pieces together. “You. You’re what this is all about. You’re the reason they’ve got their warships this far up the coast. Their ‘weather drones’ overhead.”
She flopped onto a sofa and stared out the panoramic windows of the Seascape beyond. In the distance, she could see her family’s shipyards, a new clipper ship being built in dry dock. She’d always loved the Seascape. All of it. Now, she looked out at the city and its floating arcologies and wondered whether Mercier’s war machine was already on the move. “You’ve put us all in danger.”
“Is it so difficult to aid me, who once aided you?” Tool asked.
Nita gave him a dark look. “The stakes are a little higher this time, don’t you think?”
“You speak of stakes? The last time I saw you, many people wanted you dead.”
“My uncle Pyce! And he had their backing then, did you know that? Just a little game of coup that they did in their spare time, setting us all against one another. And now…” She shook her head. “Now they’re motivated. We can’t fight against that company. We aren’t militarized the way they are. We don’t have the augments to combat them, and even our augments aren’t optimized the way theirs are. They’ll strangle our trade, they’ll burn our ports, they’ll sink our ships—”
“Your life was once in danger, and I risked myself for you,” Tool interrupted. “Now my life is in danger.” He cocked his head. “Is a half-man’s life not as valuable as those of wealthy humans?”
“That’s not fair, Tool,” Nailer said. “It’s a little different. You have to admit that.”
Nita shot him a grateful look.
Tool only laughed. “You think you have more to lose? I risked all, when you were in danger. I fought for you. But now you sit in this fine suite, on your private island.” He flicked a hand dismissively at her rooms. “You have a stream that trickles so nicely through your suite, and these little fish.” He leaned forward, staring into the sitting room’s reflecting pool. One quicksilver lunge and he had a shimmering azuli fish between his fingers. “This is a pretty thing. Engineered by your family?”
“Tool…” Nailer said warningly as Nita looked on with horror.
“You think I would eat this?” He gave them both a look of disgust and tossed the fish back. “I’m not a beast, Miss Nita. You have more in this single suite of rooms than any of my soldier boys in the Drowned Cities had, and Mercier poured fire down upon them. Would your loss be more than theirs? Is that what you tell me?”
“Why is Mercier so obsessed with you?” Nita countered. “They’re risking a lot to try to get at you. Their kill squads alone could have cost them trading rights in the Seascape. What’s so important about you?”
“My freedom irritates them.”
“We can’t challenge Mercier directly.”
“I do not ask you to challenge them. I ask only for you to help me—”
“Help you attack them!” Nita interrupted. “Which is impossible! If we were to give such aid—”
She broke off as the door to her suite opened.
Fates.
“Jayant Patel.” Tool smiled toothily. “Welcome.”
“Father, I—” Nita started as her father came into the room, but her father gave her a cold look and her excuses died on her lips. He was furious. Visibly, shakingly furious. “I can explain—”
A squad of augments muscled in. Talon, their head of security, along with four others. They were all armored, and armed. Her father’s furious gaze swept the room. He knows. He knows something.
Nita glanced worriedly at Nailer, who had risen, and was stepping between her father’s augments and Tool.
Nita thought that she’d never seen her father more angry. His enemies and friends called him a hawk, for the way his eyes pierced opponents, and now those eyes bored into her. She’d never seen him look more implacable.
Tool reclined on the couch, seemingly immune to her father’s wrath. “So good to meet you at last, Mr. Patel. You have a fierce reputation.”
The augments growled at the mockery behind Tool’s words. They spread out and raised their rifles, ready to fire. Tool cocked his head as if intrigued. His nostrils seemed to flare, sniffing the air.
Nita turned to her father. “This isn’t necessary—”
“Do you know who I’ve just received a diplomatic communiqué from?” her father interrupted. “Priority, eyes-only, messengered straight from the Mercier Embassy, here in the Seascape.”
He held up a vellum document. “A signed directive from their Executive Committee. All twelve of their directors as signatories. A formal hard-copy declaration.”
The vellum shimmered with holograms and security seals as he held it up to the light. “Not something one sees every day. Quite a surprise to discover that Mercier accuses me of stealing their intellectual property and harboring a trade secret of theirs.” He looked at Tool. “You are their Karta-Kul, I presume?”
Tool showed his teeth. “A name I once used, when I was an obedient dog who did the bidding of Mercier. I have other names.”
“Tool, then?”
“Or, ‘Sir,’” Tool said. “Either is acceptable to me.”
The augments growled. Talon looked as if he was about to leap across the room and tear out Tool’s heart, and yet Tool seemed unperturbed by the bristling hackles and bared fangs of the security team. The room fairly crackled with the promise of violence, and yet Tool barely seemed to notice.
Her father pressed. “You are Mercier’s, though?”
“No human owns me.”
“Father,” Nita broke in. “He saved us. When Uncle Pyce was hunting me, Tool helped Nailer and me survive. He saved us, more than once. Fought for us.”
Her father shot a hard glare at her and she backed off, surprised. What’s going on here? He’d never treated her this way.
“Is it true?” her father asked Tool. “That you have broken from your conditioning?”
&n
bsp; “I make a poor slave, if that is your question.”
The growling from the augments increased. Nita’s skin prickled at the sound. At any moment, she expected them to attack. Tool couldn’t possibly fight them all, and yet he seemed completely at ease. From the way his ears lay, he seemed almost pleased.
Her father was glaring at him, visibly enraged. “You must surrender yourself to Mercier!”
Tool didn’t respond. Merely gazed back at her father with his predatory dog eyes, evaluating.
Nita tried again. “Please, Father—”
“Do you know what this is, daughter?” He held up the shimmering document. “It is nearly a declaration of war! They have proof of you bringing this… this…”
“Abomination,” Tool suggested imperturbably.
Patel gave him a dirty look. “They know we have him, and they sent DNA data that establish their genetic ownership. This augment is stolen property. They have the right to attack us if we do not return him. A clear and simple right!”
“Why would they threaten a war over Tool?” Nailer asked. “He’s just one augment. Even if he’s broken out of his conditioning, it seems like too much effort.”
“That’s something I would very much like to know as well.” Her father gazed at Tool, troubled. “Are you some new iteration of warrior? Do you have some secret they don’t want to be revealed?”
“In a sense, I suppose.”
“Don’t be coy—” Her father broke off. “It hardly matters. Mercier demands you be returned to them, alive or dead, and they are more than within their rights.”
“Because they call me property? Because some document claims I am their thing?” Tool gestured at the vellum page. “I’m sure they have many documents making such claims. I’m sure they say they own my blood design and my genetic mix. That I am intellectual property, from head to foot, from fang to claw.” He shrugged. “And yet here I sit, and here I remain… and still I do not obey.”
Tool was baiting him, Nita realized. He was pressing her father into attacking, and yet she knew Tool couldn’t survive the attack. “Tool…” she said warningly. Tool glanced at her, and Nita was astonished to see that Tool appeared to be enjoying himself.