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"Nope. This is all wrong." I tap on my holoband and pull up the dossier on the employees for sector seven. "According to my records, this station is operated by either Flo or Fran. They've been pulling twelve-hour shifts for months now."

Cindy's face never changes, and right away, I know she's a synoid. "I'm sorry, but Flo and Fran never showed up for their shifts. Is there something I can help you with?"

I turn to Gary. "Don't you think it's odd that both of your human employees just don't show up for work on the same day?"

"It is highly irregular, but all we can do is try to contact them. We weren't able, so we activated a backup operator until they should decide to resurface for evaluation."

Zen glances at me, frowning. "No way this is a coincidence. Someone got to them first."

I nod. "I can only think of one person who would take the risk."

"Who?"

"Dabria. She's got a head start on us. We have to move fast because her next move will be for Specter."

Chapter 7: 5P3CT3R

I float in the digital cosmos, a single star in a galaxy of glimmering billions.

My body is immobile, seated in an uncomfortable chair. A heavily modified neural interface device encases most of my head. Heavy enough to be a problem for long periods, its weight is supported by cables and wires that dangle from the ceiling. The warehouse is somewhere on the outskirts of Downtown, guarded by Keno's hired muscle along with sentry drones and an array of booby traps prepared to maim or kill any unauthorized visitors.

I'm physically restricted, but my mind is free, untethered in the infosphere. Racing down a busted avenue in a sleek, all-black Lambotron racer, I finally feel more like myself again. I take a look at my chiseled jaw and perfectly slicked hair in the rearview mirror and flash a perfect smile. It's not quite the immersive quality of Elysia, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm in control.

"Finally decided to show up, mate? You're pushing it bloody tight."

I glance to the side, where an armored transport rumbles at over one hundred miles per hour, headlights blazing in the darkness. Keno and his crew, no doubt jostled and jarred from every pothole and crevice in the road. I don't feel a thing because I'm traveling in virtual mode, able to interact only through cyberspace, visible as a hologram to Keno and his crew. The racer is courtesy of Keno's chop shop side business. I drive with absolute impunity, take any risks because I'm not physically in the vehicle and literally can't be hurt.

"Not my fault your equipment wasn't up to snuff. I had to reboot and update the entire system. But forget all that: I'm right beside you. Closing in on the payload. Hel, you're up."

"Already ahead of you." She drops in on a stolen aerocycle, fusion thrusters pulsing electric blue. She's dressed in all-black stealth gear, fearlessly whipping back and forth on the jet-propelled aerocycle. Like me, she appears as a hologram, flickering light outlining her figure. Invisible to cameras and sensors but fully capable of accessing all of the vehicle's operations. We're ghosts in the system, incorporeal beings that can still impact the physical world through remote interaction.

Not that anything we're doing is simple.

The heist is pretty straightforward in theory. Take out security, hijack an automated cargo rig, and transfer the cargo before backup arrives. But I know all too well that even the best-laid plans will blow up in your face at any given moment. And with us hitting a higher profile target, I fully expect some nasty surprises.

The hauler is directly ahead of us: a massive hover-rig hauling an oversized semi-trailer. The design is streamlined, gliding over the road on gyroscopic thrusters. Smaller sentry floaters protectively escort in the front and rear. The road might be crap, but standard light strips that double as streetlights and fusion chargers illuminate it on both sides.

I activate my combat system and target the rear sentry vehicle. Twin turbine guns pop up from the hood of my ride and open fire with a buzzing sound. The sentry vehicle swerves but can't escape the barrage. It veers wildly, flames exploding from its hull as it crashes in a bloom of fire against the side of the road. Sparks dance across my windshield as I whip by.

"Nice one, mate!" Keno whoops over the receiver.

Hel accelerates her aerocycle to the leading sentry, charging the rail gun that protrudes from the front of her cycle. The front sentry's rooftop pops off, and the androids inside aim their rifles, hesitating to compensate for the vehicle's movements. That's all the time Hel needs. Her weapon crackles, firing a doughnut-shaped ring of plasma that destroys the sentry vehicle on contact, reducing it to a scorched alloy frame skipping across the roadside. I veer sideways to avoid colliding with it.

I hit the com button. "Okay, we're going to take the rig. Get into position."

Keno's voice crackles over. "Gotta make it quick. An emergency call went out. We got five minutes before a drone ship shows up."

"Yeah, man. This isn't my first time, remember?"

I look over at Hel, who has her bike in auto mode. She aims a handgun at the rig's window and opens fire. The glass explodes, skittering across the roadway. Without a thought for physics or safety, she leaps from her bike onto the side of the rig, reaching in to grapple with the driver. After a brief struggle, she snatches him from the driver's seat with one hand and yanks him through the shattered window. A second later he bounces off the asphalt before disappearing as if he never existed. Like us, the driver isn't really there. He's just an autopilot program that Hel hacked to gain control of the vehicle.

Seconds later, the rig's reverse thrusters activate, bringing it to a shaky halt in a cloud of grainy dust. I slam on the brakes and bring my racer to a screeching halt, leaping out as the canopy slides back. The mostly dead trees that line the road like skeletal remains surround us, hushed as if in anticipation. I scan the sky uneasily. Nothing yet, but I can't shake the feeling that everything went too smoothly.

Keno's cargo truck makes up for the silence by ratting and hissing when the driver turns it around and backs it up to the rig so we can load easier. Keno leaps out the back as soon as the door rattles open. His eyes glow in the dark from his nightvision filter, and excitement flushes his face. I know part of that is from the nirvanic he hit before we left. He always claimed he's at his best when he's high, and I can't argue with that. I'd point out it also makes him prone to unpredictable bouts of violence, but I know it's pointless.

"All right, Specter. Time to work that magic."

"Just as soon as Hel disarms the dampeners." I glance at the rig. "Hel?"

She sticks her head out the window. "We got a little problem."

"Problem?"

"Security overrides have been upgraded big time. It's gonna take me a minute to crack it."

"We don't have a minute to spare."

"Better have a backup plan, then."

Keno whirls around and whistles, gesturing to his crew inside. They leap out and take positions around the truck and the roadside, armed with heavy pulse rifles and hand cannons.

I eye the artillery, feeling more nervous than before. "You expecting to go to war, Keno?"

"I'm always ready to go to war. Figure it's better to be ready than caught with your pants down, innit? You worry about your problem, mate. I'll worry about the guns. We talked about this already."

I jog over to the rig and leap up to the window. Hel is seated inside, her arms and face blurring as she interfaces with the security system, trying to override its parameters. Data scrolls across the holographic screen at speeds impossible for me to track.

"We're gonna need a break soon or have to abort."

Her movements never slow down. "Just a few more seconds."