Mateo's expression hardened. "I'm not allowed to say."
Cash sighed. "Fine. Keep your secrets. We gotta head out anyway. But first, let's take some scans of these stiffs."
"Why?"
"A gang like this is bound to have bounties posted for some of them. Might as well cash in on our hard work."
Chapter 7
Kirk Hamilton had been in nearly every Haven in the Allied Territories, but Los Nuevos was a Haven unlike any other. Aside from Haven Core, nothing compared in sheer spectacle. It was a shimmering jewel in the wastes of the Mojave Desert, built on the bones of Las Vegas. Kirk knew his history. He remembered studying the city that once was: constructed with dirty money, home to gangsters, fast women, money laundering, casinos. Coined Sin City, a moniker that remained long after the town was sanitized and reborn as a tourist trap.
That was before the Cataclysm. When the Residents awakened, they followed the lead of technical visionary Eric Maximillian, who invested his immense fortune and intellect into reworking the city into his image. A residence where genius was rewarded, where the cutting edge was honed to razor-sharpness. The technologies of tomorrow were created in a city renamed for its elusive mantra. The New — that was the goal of every scientist and technician who worked feverishly in the massive laboratories and manufacturing facilities. Technical miracles occurred every day; digital sorcery born from the top minds in their respective fields. But most of all, it was the pursuit of artificial consciousness and the creation of synthetic humanoids that gave the town an ironically similar nickname.
Syn City.
I hate this place.
Every time Kirk came to Los Nuevos, he was struck by an unanticipated sense of loneliness, nearly despair. It wasn't the clinical grandeur of the streamlined, glimmering architecture. Nor was it the lack of people. The city was crowded, full of men and women in sharp, pressed, clean suits and dresses. Traffic flowed nonstop, both on the ground and in the air.
On the sidewalks, it was hard to move without bumping into someone. When he did, the other person offered an apology and a smile before continuing along their way. But he knew the truth behind their perfect grins, the lack of spark in their corneas. One and all, nearly every person in the city shared the same isolating truth.
They were synoids.
The synthetic humanoids went about their business as if they were truly alive. Working scheduled hours at their jobs. Some slavishly working overtime, others clocking in the bare minimum. Going home to their families. Sending their children to school. Unexpectedly meeting someone special and falling in love. An entire world of synoids milled around Kirk, a concert of mathematically precise dialogue and actions, all moving like clockwork while their programming was refined, improved, and updated so that once the models went into the real world, they would be flawless. Amid the synthetic residents, Kirk felt like the last man alive.
All of it was programmed by the genius of Syn City's mastermind. The man who made it all work. Jude Maximillian, a man Kirk had met only once. He remembered Jude as cold and arrogant. Tall, dark-haired, handsome to a fault, the man seemed a heartbeat away from being an automaton himself. An audience with Maximillian was a rare occasion. There were rumors that he sent an indistinguishable copy of himself to handle most of his business. Kirk had no idea if the man he met was the real man or the duplicate.
Doesn't matter. He'd better be real this time, or he'll suffer the consequences.
Kirk walked up the stairs toward the tallest building in the city. The surface of the Maximillian Tower shimmered like silver liquid as if the entire building could simply come splashing down in a flood of amorphous metal. There were no visible windows or doors. No lights, yet somehow it was illuminated, casting waves of silver across the rest of the city. The tower was both simple and dizzyingly complex, a marvel of artistry and technology.
A shadow joined Kirk in his ascent to the base of the tower. He glanced at Kilgore, who padded silently alongside, his long black overcoat fluttering in the wind. Kirk still had admittance clearance to enter Los Nuevos, but he had no idea how Kilgore gained entry. When Kirk questioned him, Kilgore simply replied that locks and doors were no longer a hindrance to him. It almost gave credibility to the rumors that he was reborn as some supernatural creature. Kirk knew better. He knew the origin of Kilgore's abilities, even if he didn't understand them.
They approached the building without speaking. When they were within ten yards, the surface of the building rippled. A shape emerged from the gleaming liquid, morphing until it took the form of a silvery humanoid figure that stepped free of the building's exterior with unearthly elegance.
The mirror-coated automaton towered over them, smooth head tilted down as if searching with an eyeless stare. Kirk was sure the android scanned them for weapons and infiltration devices. As if he'd be stupid enough to come armed.
The android's profile shimmered; a face emerged as if rising from a pool of molten silver. Detailed down to individual beard hairs, it gazed at Kirk with the haughty regard a man might give to a bothersome insect.
"I don't enjoy being disturbed, General. But you said this was a matter of national security."
"It is, Mr. Maximillian."
"Then relate the emergency."
"I'm afraid I have to do so in person."
The silver eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why is that?"
"We have reason to believe your security has been compromised."
"Impossible."
"If it weren't true, I wouldn't be here."
The android with Maximillian's face studied them for a judgmental moment. His gaze lingered on Kilgore.
"Who is this? He didn’t show up on any records."
Kirk smiled inwardly. Bringing Kilgore was a gamble, but it paid off. Lack of knowledge rattled Maximillian, and making him uneasy gave Kirk the upper hand.
"He's a special agent assigned for my protection."
"You don't need protection here."
"I've learned in my career that you can never be too careful."
Another long moment of silence while being weighed by Maximillian's borrowed eyes. "Very well. You may enter. But this better be worth my time, General."
The robot immediately lost its form, altering into a liquid metal state that pooled on the ground and flowed back to the building, where it bonded to the glimmering surface and became indistinguishable from the rest of the liquescent material. A portion of the building parted like water, revealing a glass elevator.
Kirk and Kilgore exchanged glanced before entering. The transparent doors hissed shut behind them, and the elevator shot upward. Kirk marveled at the ingenuity of the building. Though appearing like liquid metal on the outside, it was translucent within, allowing a view of the entire glittering city as they ascended. Los Nuevos was a far grander city than the Vegas of old, but some of the old city was still visible if one knew where to look. The city was still positioned along a long strip of highway with majestic towers and buildings towering on either side. It was still a city that never slept, glowing with lights that made nighttime irrelevant. But where Vegas was bombastic, Los Nuevos was clinical. The buildings were redesigned with efficiency and synergy in mind. The focus on entertainment was replaced by a fixation on education and experimentation. The hotels and casinos of old were modernized into buildings that looked nearly alien, architecture that reached for the future.
The two men didn't speak. They both knew any conversation would be recorded; every word and phrase examined and deciphered by programs created to decode and interpret. Kirk glanced at Kilgore. The city lights reflected off the man's sunglasses and a nearly sinister smile touched his lips. Kirk would have given much to know what Kilgore was thinking. It was impossible to read, impossible to predict what the man might say or do.