"A new corp? Didn't know they still made those," I joke. No one laughs, but Xu coughs politely.
Central glares at me for the interruption, but only slightly, because she's put up with me now for this long and knows what to expect. She purses her lips.
"As I was saying, not entirely new. They've been on our radar for a while now, but have only expanded their base of operations into a set of their own facilities over the past three years."
"As big as they are, how are we only just hearing about them now?" Prism asks.
Central nods patiently. "Two reasons," she begins, walking around the holo display on the table and tapping a few keys. Various business-y diagrams show up that I don't really bother to follow. "One, until recently, they've been one of many subcontractors the megacorps hired for fairly specific needs, not a force in their own right."
"I know of them," Shalem mutters, not loudly enough to interrupt.
"As a cryogenics company, they offer longterm preservation services, but their main source of revenue is providing cold storage and coolants for foodstuffs, pharmaceuticals, engineering purposes, and so on and so forth." She makes a significant pause. "They made a fortune providing cold chains for medical supplies and vaccines for local epidemics that sprang up during the Resource Wars."
Shalem nods to himself, and I remember he was a medic, briefly, somewhere in the Plastech war zone-
"It was a time to sink or swim for many corporations, and this one swam. They not only survived competition with the big four, but made themselves indispensible to them." Shit, she almost sounds impressed.
I stare at the purple planet logo. Neptune Corp. Maybe I'm imagining it, but it feels familiar. I was eighteen, crammed into a barracks with fifty other people. TB spreads fast in a place like that - it's in the stale air, on the treadmill handles, in the ventilation shafts. Stays there for weeks, if you let it.
Anyway, I didn't get it. We each got the jab in some emergency appointment and that was the end of that. I guess some higher-up figured out he could catch it too. Nobody wants to take their chances with antibiotics. Not anymore.
And Central's still talking. I think she's gotten around to her second point, because she changes the holodisplay to a map and there's this stirring from all around the control room.
Valdes frowns. "Those are all their facilities?"
"All that we know of. There are almost certainly a few more, but that's not relevant right now."
"And they're all-"
"Ocean bases in the southern hemisphere, yes."
More like in the middle of nowhere. I stare at the display. Some are in the open ocean, but most of them are spread along the coastline of the actual Antarctic. I know there have been people there, theoretically. Research stations and whatnot. I never imagined an actual corp there, offices and barracks and cafeterias.
"Now," Central says," as you can imagine, not a lot of air traffic in these sites. We'll have to approach carefully on the jet. Full stealth mode. Minimal heat signature."
Great. I can already tell that means freezing.
Oh right, she wants us to go to one of these places, isn't that right? Fuck. I hope she doesn't pick me. I know, I know, but look, it's not cowardice. I just don't like being cold.
"But that's jumping ahead. Dr. Xu, if you please?"
Xu nods and looks overly eager to take over the briefing, in a school boy suck-up sort of way. Probably also glad to be in the loop, while the rest of us are just finding out about this now. Well, maybe not all of us. Sharp moves to stand next to him with a bored expression.
Xu clears his throat. "Over the past few months, we have been purchasing intelligence on their new facilities as well as collecting our own. Using self-destructing spy drones, mainly, our usual approach for unknowns." Xu taps at something and pulls up a partial floor schematic. There's common patrol paths, average amount of guard traffic in each room, and other little details. "We know they have cameras, databases, most of the usual things. What we don't know are what unique security devices they have. And that is our objective for today. To find out."
A recon mission. Straightforward enough. A new corp is enough to make anyone a little nervous, but there's no getting around it. Every corporation has its own little quirks, little details that might not even occur to you in a briefing but can make or break a mission. What the rooms are like, how tight the corridors are - sidenote, never get stuck in a corridor in Plastech - what the decor is like, how good the cover is. You could see that on a schematic, if it's good enough, but you can't internalise it until you're actually there. The only way to learn is by doing.
I squint at one of the numbers. "Wait. Hang on. That's the room temperature?"
Xu looks delighted that I asked, and I almost wish I hadn't.
"Three degrees Celsius, yes. These facilities are rather chilly." Was he seriously waiting for someone to notice that before be brought it up?! "Infrared imaging shows the guards' uniform comes with heat generators to keep up their core temperature, and state-of-the-art thermal wear takes care of the rest. And of course, their aug-"
"Augmentations," Sharp interrupts him and rather unceremoniously shoves him aside. He brings up more schematics. "There's a series of heat-generating implants available on the market for cold environments, allowing for dynamic heat generation adjustment based on external temperature. There are also... brown fat tissue implants on the cheaper side. For those who like biological upgrades." He briefly scrunches his face and looks close to throwing up. "Their elite troops are likely all augmented in this manner, but we won't find out for sure until we get up close."
"Still can't be too comfortable," Valdes says thoughtfully.
"I actually worked it out a while ago, I believe that's the most energy-efficient setting for them," Xu tells them. "The ambient temperature around there is deep in the subzeroes. If they kept room temperature any higher, they'd sink far too much into heating. Any lower, and the heaters and thermal wear on their personnel wouldn't be able to keep up. In short, it's dictated by their bottom line." Valdes says something under her breath that I can't make out, but I can probably fill in the blanks.
Several people in the room look uneasy, and I can't blame them. We're spies, not Navy SEALs. Extreme environments aren't usually part of the job. Not that just barely above freezing temp is extreme, but it doesn't take much to slow you down just enough to get you killed.
"Three degrees isn't too bad," Nika shrugs, because of course she'd say that. "Like being in a cave."
"You got a lot of experience with the cold, have you?" I can't resist saying.
"Some," she says, looking unbothered by the jab. "St. Petersburg winters are mild. But I travelled, in my old job."
"I prefer the heat," Shalem says flatly. It's as close as I've ever seen him come to actually complaining. "Does it get any colder?"
That silences the murmurs. "We don't know," Xu says flatly. "But we can assume so. We only have direct temperature readings on the main areas, but any area that's intended for cold storage and sees no direct patrols would likely be below zero. On the bright side, if we find ourselves staying long enough for hypothermia to set in, the cold will likely be the least of our problems," he says in an upbeat sort of way. He catches a look from Central and clears his throat. "That will be all, I should think."
"Thank you, Dr. Xu," Central nods and takes position by the holodisplay again, dismissing him as smoothly as she summoned him. Xu fades back into the background with a sheepish look. "To reiterate: the objective is recon first and foremost. We focus on their personnel, and on their unique security. We investigate that in as much detail as we can."
"And bring back samples for analysis, yes?" Xu chimes in again.
Central gives another slow nod. "Quite right. You can see to that personally, in fact. You'll be going, as well."
Xu nods and looks like he's trying to decide whether to be pleased with it or not. He's usually eager to go on missions. But I guess he's not too keen on the cold, either.
"Internationale, you'll lead the team. Your wireless scouting will be invaluable there."
"As you wish, Central," Valdes acknowledges with a nod and I can't quite squash down a stab of worry. It's a new corp, after all.
"And Decker." Crap. "You're support. We'll need your experience."
I grunt something vaguely affirmative, and that's good enough for Central.
At least I don't have to worry about Valdes, because I'll be busy worrying about myself. And the second-year rookie who thinks he's both Q and James Bond all rolled into one. Because I'm support.
The joys of seniority.
It's wheels up in twenty minutes, but we still have one more bit of prep to do. Outfitting.
First part is standard enough. Off with the coat, the shirt, on with the biometric sensors and the nanomesh vest. Not quite bulletproof - not quite plasmaproof, either - but gives you a better than even chance to focus the plasma beam enough that it doesn't quite explode you from the inside. I once watched a guy take a shot at point blank range and all he got for it was this perfectly round, cauterised dime-sized tunnel through his shoulder. He'd joke that he finally had a place to keep his spare change. At least he did, until the corps got him for good, six months later.
Yeah, there's a reason this job doesn't come with a 401k. Metaphorically speaking, I mean. Those haven't been a thing since '58.
Now comes the unusual part. I stare down at the large table and the assortment of gloves, scarves, hats and legwarmers on it. We don't want to wade in there wearing bulky fur coats, but heat is important. Nobody wants frostbite on their trigger finger.
Contrary to what you might expect, it's casual wear only on infiltrations. The simple reason is that an intruder detected in full tactical gear kickstarts the alarms in a way an intruder wearing his favourite polo shirt does not. The deepest, oldest parts of the security systems date back to the early Resource Wars, when an intruder in a corp building usually came attached to a full squad, all armed to the teeth. That hasn't been the MO of corp-on-corp warfare in years - we have, and others like us - but they're all too paranoid to retire that response. End result being, I get to wear my coat, Xu gets to wear his atrocious little mashup, and some agents even choose to wear heels. I don't know how they pull it off, but they do.
(And maybe it's a little sad to be making outfitting decisions based on the assumption that we'll get seen, but shit happens. Ghosting a place is nice, but we're not stupid enough to plan around it. And sometimes you get a chance to bluff and pretend you got lost, too, which is a bonus, but we don't plan around that either. Those tactical HUDs are too good for that these days.)
Today's different, though. Today calls for special gear. My coat should serve me well enough, but I add a wool scarf and a set of fingerless gloves, just to be safe. Just above freezing temperature isn't all that bad, but I know how quickly the cold can set in. Especially if you have to be stealthy, and keep still.
Xu takes off his headset with a mournful look and sets it down. Just when I think he'll go into this one with his ears unobstructed, he takes a set of fuzzy blue earmuffs from his bag and puts it on. Between the baseball cap, waistcoat and tie, and the metal headset, I previously didn't think he could look any more ridiculous. I stand corrected.
Internationale can't ditch her headphones, though, she needs them for the scanning. She replaces her signature scarf with a thicker one - still red, of course - and actually gets a stretchy warm headband to fit over the headset. It looks silly, but we're not in this to win fashion contests.
Xu glances at her and looks like he wishes he'd thought of that. He must be pretty committed to the earmuffs, though, because he keeps them on.
They follow my lead, though, and each get their own set of fingerless gloves. There. We've all got the 'homeless chic' look down pat now.
"You ever been someplace cold before, doc?" I ask, by way of conversation, but also to find out just how much weight I have to pull here.
Xu shakes his head. He's apprehensive, but obviously trying to hide it. "I can't say I have. Hong Kong is warm even in the winter. I did travel and move around a bit, but that was all cities. They trap heat. I don't suppose climate-controlled cold storage rooms at my old university count..."
I turn to look at Valdes. Her eyes are distant the way they go when she's thinking about the before times. "Mountains, mostly. It was brief. The odd job, here and there." She doesn't sound like she wants to elaborate.
Figures. Cuba's what, subtropics? I need to brush up on my geography. I've never been.
From the sound of it, there isn't all that much left there, either.
I'm from LA, and you'd be lucky to hit 10°C there on a cold night. Especially these past couple of years. Coldest place I've been - coldest place either of us has been in for long, by the looks of it - is right here in Budapest. Continental Europe, still gets the odd slip into subzero temps every now and then.
Even so, I've worked here eight years and I've never seen it snow.
"Internationale, you're well outside normal air traffic routes now. Activate minimal heat signature mode."
"Copy that, Central."
Over in the co-pilot seat, I hear the rush of air as the excess heat is vented and the cold air rushes in. We're picking up altitude, so the oxygenation tanks rev right up as well. At least I think it's them. Central replaces the company stealth jet every five years or so - can't have us falling behind on tech. I knew the old one like the back of my hand. This one, still getting used to.
Valdes is already in sync with it like it's her own second skin. Figures. Former airborne scout and all.
The temperature in the cabin drops rapidly, and I shiver.
Xu makes a thoughtful hum, leaves his chair behind me and returns a few minutes later with several blankets piled in his arms. Valdes takes one without comment and wraps it around herself. I just look at him.
"We should conserve body heat," he explains, unnecessarily. "You may not feel cold yet, but-"
"I get it," I wave him off.
I'm support, so if I get killed, these two might have problems. So I take it and make a show of huddling into it. I'll admit it, it helps.
We go quiet as we wait. I glance out the cockpit window, but if the Antarctic is coming up, it's too far down and too dark to see.
Not too long now.
I watch the ETA on the screen and count the minutes.