The hair rose on Tavik’s arms. «Who the fuck are you and how did you get in my head?»
«You can call me Mr. Saenz. I’ve been looking for you all day.»
«Go on.» Tavik dropped onto the chair, his arm accidentally knocking the tea cup over.
«I’ll do so once you tell me your name. I’d rather know with whom I am speaking.»
«You telling me you can break into my head but you can’t read my mind?»
«It doesn’t work that way. I can access your wireless because I’m the one who wrote the source code for most firewalls, and I always built backdoors into my code, but that doesn’t let me access the data in your mind. So, what’s your name?»
«What do you want from me?»
There was an electronic sigh across the interface. «How did you ever become a boss? I want your name.»
«Fuck you! You want my name, you tell—» The world went pitch black. Tavik slapped his hands to his eyes. «Fuck! What did you do? I can’t see!»
«I can do worse than that. Would you like further examples?»
Sweat poured down Tavik’s face. «No! Please, I’m sorry. Let me have my eyes back. My name’s Tavik.»
The world blinked back into its proper place, and Tavik let out a big sigh.
«That’s better,» said the odd voice. «Now don’t try my patience again.»
«Thought you said you couldn’t access my mind?»
«I can’t access the data in your mind. Your slot interface directly accesses all of your senses. How do you think virtual reality works via your wireless? Those oh-so-real-seeming slatterns you enjoy when you get home? Anything that runs through your slot I can control.»
«What did you say your name was again?»
«Mr. Saenz.»
«What kind of accent is that?»
«Foreign.»
«What…what can I do for you?»
«I met one of your people at the apartment of one Zoya Drozdova. I’m sure you know the place.»
«Okay. You a friend of hers?»
«No. There was a data card plugged into a Web connection in that apartment. I believe you know the card of which I speak.»
«If you’re one of the general’s men, I’m already—»
«What general? Is he the owner of the card?»
Tavik’s mind raced. Not with the general. Who the hell is this guy? «What do you want with the cards?»
«I don’t care about the cards. I want to know who created them.»
«How did you find me?»
«I told you, I ran into one of your men. From his slot I was able to trace the last few calls he made, which led me to your pal, Boris. Boris suggested some unpleasant things I could do to myself, but then he was kind enough to place a call to you. Got it?»
«You can trace things that fast, huh? And just break through any firewall?»
«Any firewall made from my code. Well, I’m sure I could get through others, but that could take some time. So, tell me who made the cards.»
«I’ll tell you. Sure, why not? What will you do for me?»
«How about I don’t kill you?»
Tavik’s heart lurched in his chest.
«Look, I’m in a hurry,» Mr. Saenz said. «You’re looking for this girl Zoya, right? Well, I can tell you where she is. Just tell me where I can find the people who made the cards.»
«Fair enough,» Tavik said. «You’re the one with the power. You’ve already shown me what you can do to me. Tell me how I can find Zoya, and I swear I’ll tell you what you want to know.»
«Done. I stalled the air car she was using near the apartment building of her friend, not far from her own building. You know the place?»
«Oksana’s? One of my guys is there.»
«If you say so. She’s still inside right now. Do what you want, but let me tell you this — my son Marcus is in the air car. You so much as touch him and you’ll die painfully, got it?»
«Sure, no problem. I don’t care about anything but her.»
«Don’t think I can’t monitor every move you make. You leave Marcus alone.»
«I got it. Okay, I don’t know any names. I just know the location of the compound where these guys do their work.»
«Feed the map through your slot so I can see it.»
It took a minute for Tavik to calm himself down enough to create a mental image of the military compound where the scientists worked. «There, you got it?»
«Yes, as long as you’re not lying to me.»
«You kidding? After what you did to me you think I’d mess with you?»
«I’ve seen enough stupid people in this world to never doubt the levels to which they can sink. Anyhow, hopefully we’ll never need to speak again, so long as these coordinates are correct and you leave my son alone.»
Tavik looked over at Bunny, who seemed oblivious to everything that had happened and was still stroking the dead cat. «If anything happens to your son, it won’t be my doing, I promise you.»
The connection was already severed.
Tavik leapt to his feet. “Bunny, come on or stay here and pet your cat, I don’t give a damn, but I’m going now!” He headed out the door without pausing to see if Bunny would follow.
Moscow
Sunday, June 8, 2138
6:12 p.m. MSK
Marcus woke with a start. Light streamed in through tinted windows close on either side, confusing him since his mind told him he was in his own bed in the apartment back in Phoenix. He shook his head to clear the fog, and it all came crashing back…the horrible rocket ride to Russia; being attacked by a huge thuggish man and saved by a strange and beautiful woman, who had flowed down the corridor and attacked like some fantastic ninja; dragging the man into her apartment; watching that woman shoot the man like a deadshot Clint Eastwood from an ancient cowboy vid. He shivered. More had happened to him in the past few hours than in his entire previous life, and all he wanted was for things to return to the way they had been. He wanted to be home in Phoenix, mopping his mother’s brow and soothing her, arguing with his father about what kind of future he might have in a dying country.
Car…I’m in a car, he remembered. The leather of the seat creaked and gave off a comforting smell as Marcus sat up, stretching his arms and yawning. His stomach grumbled, his head ached, and he needed to relieve himself. The driver stood outside, leaning against the nose of the vehicle, smoking a sim-cig. Marcus told the car to open the door, but nothing happened, so he fumbled for a minute until he figured out how to pop the override handle and push the door up. He scrambled out and hesitantly approached the driver, who blew out a vapor cloud and smirked at him.
Marcus double-checked the pronunciation from the translator before he spoke. “Is this where I’m staying?” He scanned the crumbling apartment buildings that formed a U-shape around the parking lot. “I thought it would be more modern.”
The driver shook his head. “This is where your girlfriend wanted to go. Now the car won’t work. Complete power failure. You ever seen anything like that?”
Marcus shook his head.
The driver went on, “No worries. I called for another car. They’re busy at the moment, but one should arrive soon.” He put the sim-cig to his mouth and sucked in a deep breath.
“What’s that do for you?” Marcus pointed at the slim steel cartridge in the driver’s mouth. He knew what a sim-cig was in theory, but he’d never known anyone to use them. Smoking had been outlawed by the Global Council nearly two decades ago, and in America West the Mormon government had ruthlessly enforced the ban.
The driver looked at him sideways, his eyebrows raised like Marcus had asked the dumbest question in the world. He held the sim-cig out and looked at it, his mouth drawn down in a frown. “Like cigarette, yeah? No real tobacco in Russia since the Dark Times.”