She leaned back, studying me over the rim of her glass. “Very well, Mick. This one’s free. The next will cost you. I know your given name is Michael Trudo. Orphaned at the age of three. Your father left before you were born and died in a botched robbery, and your mother was a drug addict who died of an overdose. Orphans are valuable commodities in a system where nothing is wasted, so you were picked up and raised in a military compound at Haven One, where you learned military tactics, espionage, and assassination along with your rudimentary academic schooling.
“You were inducted in the Secret Service at age eighteen, where you excelled as a ‘shadow’, one of those rare beings that kill with no conscience or remorse. After a time you were paired up with Natalie Stryker, a like-minded agent with a rather vicious streak. The two of you became lovers, a relationship that never interfered with your wetwork. After excelling at several key ops, you were assigned on a solo mission to infiltrate this Haven, kill Dr. Grant Faraday and recover his thermal orbot, a personal data bank loaded with priceless technological prototypes, advancements, and data stolen from Haven One.”
Sinn finished her martini and toyed with the impaled olive. “You know the rest, of course. Faraday was one step ahead of you, capturing you upon infiltration and rebooting your mind, as it were. He inserted you with new memories, those of a down-and-out Troubleshooter instead of a senseless killer. He stored your real memories into a synoid that goes by the implausible name of Hunter Valentino, whereabouts unknown. The result is a fascinating blend of personas as you chose to adopt your new identity and forsook your former one, creating an entirely different individual even as your old memories melded into Hunter’s data core, altering the synoid in unimaginable ways.”
I tried to keep cool the whole spiel, but my heart pumped diesel and my nerves were decidedly shot. I lifted my glass to my lips, forgetting it was empty. The disappointment was mild in the face of being punched in the gut by Ms. Sinn’s offhanded yet lethal delivery.
“How the hell do you know all of this? I didn’t even know some of that. You’d have to be ex-Service or high up in the top brass to even crack open my Service file. Who the hell are you, lady?”
A new barmaid returned with fresh drinks. I downed mine and motioned for her to keep ‘em coming. Sinn wet her lips with her martini and kept that coy smile on her face.
“The information is easy to gather when you have the proper equipment, Mick. In my case, my mind is all I need to access whatever information is available. My eyes see much differently than yours, you see. Streams of endless data glimmer like golden threads, and all I have to do is reach out to enrich myself. I can link to any computer system, access every surveillance orbot, enter any digital access point, download and systematize the contents in seconds. The entire network of New Haven streams live through my mind at every given moment, allowing me to see and hear everything I need to.”
I squinted at her. “You’re a bioroid. I’ll be damned.”
She ran her fingers through her softly curled hair. “You expected wires sprouting from my head? That was Gen 1 equipment. A long time ago. And our community doesn’t exactly love the term ‘bioroid’. It implies an artificial being.”
“So what do you call your kind?”
A smile touched her lips. “Human. I am just as human as you are. Simply less restricted in exploring my mental potential.”
“Doesn’t have the same ring as ‘bioroid’. I thought most folks die within a year of those implants.”
Her eyes dropped, studying the clear contents of her glass. “Most do. One has to already be mentally gifted in order to survive the initial trauma. The mind has built-in barriers that are overrun like crumbling levees by the flow of new information once the implants are in place. Not many can survive the initial distress.”
I shook my head. “Seems like too high a risk to pay for an amplified brain.”
“That’s because you don’t know how it feels.” Her lips parted and her eyes widened as she gazed beyond me, seeing whatever marvels only her augmented mind could behold. “It’s like stepping into a whole new world, Mick. Like living for the very first time.”
“And so you have the abilities of the most powerful computers right in your mind?”
She laughed. “The mind is a computer, Mick. Far more vast and powerful than anything man can create. Once scientists finally submitted to its superiority, they did everything they could to unravel its secrets. The bionics simply free potential already there, unlocking doors we didn’t have access to, allowing us to explore the portions of our mind that formerly were unattainable.”
I felt my mouth twist. “Sure. All for the better of mankind, right? Yet you work for the UH, which doesn’t exactly have a track record for thinking much of the common man. Just look at the Secret Service. What a piece of work they are.”
Her dark eyes never blinked. “I have nothing to do with the Service or the United Havens, Mick. I work for a far more clandestine operation.”
“Really? Like the Gestalt? You seem like their type with all the mystery.”
“The Gestalt?” Even her sneer couldn’t mar her flawless features. “A failed group of exiles consumed by preserving their attempts at immortality. No, I’m afraid I have no dealings with them either. They’ve had their day, but they’re facing extinction like everyone else. Just another fossil for future inhabitants to puzzle over.”
I leaned back against the cushioned lounge and folded my arms. “Know what I hate? People who talk above your head while trying to claim they’re doing you a favor. You want something from me? Better spill, ‘cause I’m getting pretty bored here, Ms. Sinn. You got the time it takes to down one more drink. After that I’m gonna skip this dog and pony show. Got better things to do.”
“Very well, Mick.” She set her glass down. “There’s a lot going on you don’t know about. The situation outside of this Haven, for example. Everyone here just goes about, lost in their filtered memories, oblivious to the rumbling of thunder just outside the range of their hearing.”
“I just told you about all the double talk. Lay it on me straight or catch a cab back to wherever you came from.”
“War, Mick.” Her eyes grew serious. “Invaders are attacking the major Havens, and the UH is aggressively recruiting for soldiers, weaponry, and technology. This Haven has always been thought impregnable, but the pressure will continue to build until your heavily shielded walls come crashing down. The Secret Service was only the beginning.”
I shrugged as the barmaid returned with my reload. “I don’t worry about things beyond my range of control. If it happens, it happens. Why expect me to get all soggy-eyed?”
“You don’t think you’ll be affected?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” I tapped the bourbon glass in time to the beat from the stage. “Maybe I just don’t give a damn either way.”
“You should, Mick. You’re a valuable commodity, and the truth is I’ve been sent to recruit you. A man of your skills is wasted playing Russian roulette in this Haven. You must be tired of gambling with your life, hoping you don’t roll a snake eyes.”
“I retired from gambling, Ms. Sinn. Never was much good at it. I’m a Troubleshooter now, as I’m sure you must know with all of those implanted doodads amplifying your brain. You say you were sent to recruit me? By who?”
“The anonymity of my organization is crucial, Mick. I can’t tell anymore about us until you’ve earned our trust.”
I downed the bourbon and set the glass down with a smile. “Time’s up, darling. It’s been a joy gabbing with you.”