Chloe was on her way to find Max when she jumped from the garage up to the roof. Watched in silence as she painted a faint trail into the sky and vanished. Worried, too late, but there was nothing she could do for her now. Fuck. She stopped the elevator, reversed direction. Headed to medical to help out instead.
Full house.
The outer half of the med-floor was a tangle of hallways and patient facilities. Automated diagnostic and imaging rooms, recovery tanks, nano-operating theaters, regeneration equipment. The closer half, nearest the core, was broken up into a few large open sections, with the middle space serving as a mix of waiting area and triage, depending on needs. It was usually empty, but staff were always on hand to provide services for employees or their families. Or to guide treatment of any injuries teammates might bring back from the field. Tonight, they were a little overwhelmed.
Despite the crowd, the first thing to hit Chloe was the quiet. Shuffling. A cough here or there. She'd assessed most of the new arrivals individually while they were still en-route to the floor. Exposure, dehydration, some malnutrition, these were things they could easily fix, help make them more comfortable. But the fear, the reflexive stares toward the exits…the silence… All symptoms of a trauma that was more internal, if shared. Normal for what they'd been through, but harder to fix with an IV, warm bed and hot food alone. Would take time. And a more careful, human touch.
As she scanned, she couldn't help but notice the gurneys parked inside the entryway, tucked off to one side, partially hidden behind a thin tracked curtain. Small shapes beneath the white sheets. That was all kinds of fucked up. Taggart and Jeffries, the two operators who'd retrieved their bodies, stayed with them. Planted themselves just outside the curtain. Symbolic. Like an unspoken sort of honor guard for the fallen, maybe. Chloe knew they had their own traditions. A subconscious scan through their files and social profiles confirmed that each had young children of their own. Close to home.
Ariel arrived ten minutes after Chloe. She was on the other side of the room, delivering food, trying to help wherever she could. Her watch. Her mission. Ariel was probably where she most needed to be for herself right now.
Speaking of… Where are you, Max?
Chloe busied herself connecting with their new patients, just over sixty in all. Talking with some of them, acting as occasional translator for med-staff, helping to remove collars and sub-dermal RFIDs, while helping others to the showers to clean up. Re-humanizing. Occasionally lending her own diagnostic medical sensing or expertise. A few patients had conditions unrelated to their captivity that needed attention as well.
Meanwhile, she ran faces to names against social nets in the background where she could, building dossiers, connecting with distant law enforcement agencies, beginning the process of reconnecting them with family or friends; there were a few countries of origin. Most of these were among the poorest back home. Marginalized or vulnerable.
But…a few of them weren't especially anxious to return. Some of their circumstances were more nuanced than she expected.
At least two had volunteered themselves into captivity on promises that their families would receive money from the local bosses. Three more had hopes of escaping home; finding a better life. A measure of their desperation and naïveté that an unknown future of servitude seemed like a preferable path. One was sold away by her uncle, who couldn't afford to feed her, another by her parents for the cash. The rest were simply kidnapped and taken against their will. But many worried for themselves or their families if they returned. A wide range of local gangs, thugs or bandits were part of the trade, and a persistent part of the problem. Recapture or reprisals were strong possibilities for some if they were simply turned around and sent back.
Layer shame and family honor and other such notions on top of all of that and…it was more than the medical staff here were trained to handle on their own. Few more hours on that…but for now, see to their immediate needs. Food. Hydration. Care. Most have someone somewhere worried sick about them… Case by case on the rest when the time comes.
Even with the complications, there was gratitude from them as well. Through the shock.
Little things. A touch, a slight smile. Before focus returned to some distant horizon.
Chloe sat with a girl, maybe seventeen. Propped up, IV in her hand. She wouldn't speak. Wouldn't look at her. Just held Chloe's hand tightly. Staring off. Squeezing at irregular intervals. One of the other women warned she'd been taken away a few times. During the voyage. Chloe made sure that she'd be one of the first the specialized trauma counselors visited, once they arrived. Meanwhile, if it helped her in some small way, Chloe was happy to sit with her.
She kept watch on the Vegas surveillance shell with her inner eye.
Was aware of Max's return when she touched down above.
Studied her as she vanished from the roof to appear in the central ring just outside the entryway.
More relaxed. Wherever she went, however long she was gone in MaxTime, must have helped. That's good at least.
Chloe excused herself to go to her, but the girl held on.
Ariel pushed a cold metal cart overloaded with covered trays of warm food, plastic sippy cups, wobbly green Jell-O. Most of the patients had been cleared for solids. The kitchens opened before the containers hit the dock, so there was more on the way.
After watching over all of them for weeks on thermal, it was such a relief to have them here, as real people, out of harm's path. They were her responsibility. Clear now, thankfully. She wasn't sure what waited for each of them at home, but it would still be home. Day or two was all, maybe.
They didn't know she'd been there, watching over them. But it felt good to finally see their faces.
The world had more work to do to make this kind of shit go away for good. But that was the long job. For now, this was a start. Small victory. A concrete difference. And a far better ending than any of the others that might have been. Or had been, she reminded herself.
She delivered another meal, turned back to the cart. Caught Chloe across the way, sitting with one of the other patients. Chloe looked up, her attention on the entrance. Ariel followed her line of sight. Max!
She was the reason any of them were alive at all. Max was so her goddamn hero right now. All of theirs, always, but…but especially to her. After what happened…
Her heart sank a little as she saw where Max was headed.
Off to one side. Somehow, she'd missed them in all those scans, tucked away in a corner of the box…
Too little heat to register.
Absently carrying a tray, Ariel changed direction, toward Max. To thank her, to distract her, she…wasn't really sure. Chloe tried to do the same, but the patient she was with wouldn't let go. Chloe nodded to Ariel like it was a baton pass, relented.
Max gave a quick wave, acknowledging Chloe, said something to the tac guys, thanking them maybe? Still not close enough to hear the words. They went behind the curtain, made a space between the gurneys. Max quietly slipped between from the other side. Rested a gentle hand on each of their tiny chests. Bowed her head a little.
Ariel winced.
Ouch.
Max…
We saved so many…
don't torture yourself… there's nothing you could have…
Max said something to herself.
Ariel only caught the final word.
"…everyone."
Max closed her eyes.
Her expression changed…concentration…
As if she was listening to a beautifully intricate and emotional symphony only she could hear.
Took Ariel a moment to realize - Max's feet had lifted off the ground.
Their frail bodies rose with her, slowly. Sheets floating, airy, just above them, draping over like jellyfish. The air around them…glowing?
Something happened.
A pressure wave, a pop of wind.
The tray slipped forward, out of Ariel's hands.
Stopped short of the ground.
Contents scattered, rolled, suspended in air.
Jell-O cubes wobbled, pulsed from inside.
Intensity flared, all details lost in light.
Patients sat up, straining to see.
There was something, almost musical, rhythmic.
Subsonic tickles. Felt, more than heard.
Ariel fought the instinct to look away as the light spiked again, grew, shining bright through the sheets and curtain. A penetrating luminance that cast no shadows, it took over the lobby. Like the sun from inside, but without glare or any of the bad parts. Nothing frantic or painful. It was enveloping. Calming. Welcome. Could barely make out Max in the center. There was nothing else. Only the light. Warmth… love… healing… Something more than hope. It seemed to flow from her, radiant, in waves.
At least, that's how it all seemed to Ariel.
Chloe embraced her own internal clock-speed, shifting her perception of the flow of the world.
From her various lines of sight, she traced the light echoing, curving wrong around the bodies. Around Max.
Her world slowed to a crawl, but Max was still another exponent beyond. Chloe's enhanced view zoomed tight on her throat, measuring visible pulse through the glare. Quick sample. Max's heart-rate was nearly forty-three thousand beats per second, shifting her forward to about twelve hours for every second on the outside at her normal resting rate.
A closer look. The bending light.
Small objects around the room drifting, unbound.
She calculated the geometries, the forces inside. Leaking out.
The math was a mess, but it was obvious what Max was trying to do.
Maybe too much.
But…what if…?
…holy fuck - if she can really do it…
Max?!
Max focused.
Come on… You brought an entire world back to life. Millions of creatures. What's two more smallish people?
Okay, so that wasn't all me - and we were going forward with seeds of life, not back to reclaim the old...
But whatever.
It doesn't matter.
This needs to happen, and there's no reason it won't work.
You've done all the individual parts by themselves…
Sortof.
This is…just snapping powers together. Like Legos.
Right?
Sure.
But…be really fucking careful.
She first witnessed Alexander's teleportation, his peculiar style of matter-phasing non-spherical wormhole travel, in an undone branch of reality years ago. Played with it a few times herself, but folding as she did was always more natural for her. Their techniques were very different, but his manipulations had some advantages for what she wanted to do here.
With their stations on Luna, the gene vaults on Triton and Callisto, and other off-world cache facilities scattered back, isolated from history, she always folded to them - moved herself to their time and space, along with whatever else. There were no other interactions between this world and those distant underground spaces. No ripples traveled between isolated ponds. Here though, she was reaching through to the past to pull something forward, without disconnecting herself from the present.
She was hopeful, but this was her first attempt… Couldn't be sure.
On this side, she isolated herself and their bodies from the flow of the world. Around each child, she wrapped a body-hugging Vankin-style wormhole exiting milliseconds into their past. Rather than connecting to another space, she was connecting to another space and time. …times. And she had to keep them open for the duration. Angry phasing portals, unstable, extending inches above skin. Now four wormhole openings. Four bodies, two time periods, out of phase with each other, superimposed. Still reactive, between them. She pushed the exits away, more minutes into the past. Interference diminished, as she overlaid gradient fields of differential time flows between the past and present, a sort of regulating mechanism for what was to come. Three flows. Seconds outside, a day inside maybe, and weeks going the other direction on the far end. Gravity bled through, quadrupled, she reversed, cancelled. The edges of the wormholes reacted with each other and with the time-gradients. She reshaped, kept them apart.
Steady…
Like lenses in time, focused around the bodies of the children, she pushed the history-facing wormholes farther back, following the movements of their mass. Fighting, keeping them inside the edges. Holding the bodies steady here, while adjusting for the pitch and yaw and slide of the other side in real time… each distant end moving away more and more quickly, accelerating backward with them over rapid waves. Nesting shells of forces within forces, punching through reality, questing for signs of life. The world outside nearly frozen.
The rise and fall as the air ripped around her…
So many primal forces competing for dominance. Interacting.
Max, balancing, conducting from the center.
She pulled the harmful radiation through her to…somewhere else.
Pushed the tiny amount of residual energy that remained outward.
Mostly shifted to infrared and visible at the edge, buffered for a slow, accumulative release.
They were on the move nearly the whole time. She'd been at this for hours. Wasn't just rolling the pitching space around them backwards. She was trying to return them to the world alive. But here. Now. Had to compensate for their movements over the past few weeks to find them first.
The idea came to her out in the void. Worked the mechanisms on the way home. It was a 'maybe' at best, but close enough.
Matching the raw motions of the earth, sun, and galaxy systems was simple. Background. She did it every time she folded, time jumped, shifted frames, whatever. It was all relative, and relatively uncomplicated. Just pick a frame of reference, and it was mostly automatic. Spatial-temporal muscle memory. Some part of her knew where to aim.
When she rolled the space-station build crew in Ecuador back a year, it was the same - they were all in the same valley, which she accelerated forward anyway - so she didn't have to compensate for normal outside time or location shifting all that much. Wasn't a big deal to roll a smaller section of that same space with all the people in it backward - returning borrowed time to the ground crew, only without their memories. She reset the space containing them to a prior save-point, in a certain sense. They just went along for the ride.
This was similar to that but active, hands-on, with about ten times more variables. There was no save point she could use. The coordinates of their spaces were unknown, changing. These kids were long dead. She wasn't sure exactly how long. But they were last alive in a place she didn't know, hadn't ever been or seen herself. So, the least convoluted way to find them alive was to walk the path with them until she could make the swap.
Their small frames traveled thousands of miles over bumpy seas after death, sliding over waves in three axes. Driving the full-body wormholes back, she had to compensate for all of that displacement, on top of the usual orbital system level stuff, tracing them to the last time and place they drew breath. Without disrupting others in the container during their journey.
It all made a certain kind of sense, once she started.
Once she felt how little mass made them.
Too little, even for children of this size.
She cheated to avoid the paradox.
Bridging them from the past to the present.
Keeping them physically in two places at once, ready to cross-fade once she went back far enough…
Their dead shells would have to go back.
Loop forever through their ocean journey.
It was the only way to balance the bridge…
Across the hours, parts of her mind wandered.
Semi-delirious. Relentlessly focused.
She pictured herself in a dusty cave.
In that space between life and not-life - insisting on the unavailable choice.
Demanding it.
Enforcing it.
Remembered Arcadia.
Mornings spent running through the forest, sunlight streaming through branches.
Heading for the sounds of the ocean, waving wooden swords.
We were this small once…
She caught herself. Had to remain mindful of immersion with her own movements. Didn't want to create shockwaves that would destroy the floor. Or resonate inside four ends of the two paired wormholes - with explosive results, and probably all sorts of other chain-reactive scary bad.
She was in another branch
creating tangled loops in time without her.
About her.
Pushing at her own boundaries.
Familiar patterns.
One day, this might be something she could do automatically, in her sleep. But it was her first time blending these kinds of forces. Two of which didn't exactly get along. One of which she hadn't practiced all that much, and only for fractions of a second when she had. She was hopeful, paid close attention to everything, but it still could go very wrong. The pitching of the boat over rough seas complicated things immensely. In the beginning, at least.
She was downtown,
at peace and joy in the swirling eye of blue…
Gifts, memories.
Lifetimes that She helped mend.
She eventually caught the rhythm of it…
Hidden, but not hidden.
She was above a barren planet.
In another set of nested shells,
spinning a biosphere back to life.
Another in a long line of team efforts…
Felt the vibrations buried in the up and down movements of waves, tilting and rotating the far end. The less rapid rising and falling of tides and the spinning and drifting world she needed to match - a few of the many intersecting pattern sets. Almost trancelike, part of her was there too, aware. Felt the mass of water, rising, falling. She pushed her senses through the other side, beyond the children, beyond the ship.
hello…
I've…always been there…
Anticipate…
She was alone. Afraid.
Dying in a dark place.
So she became the light.
Each movement a progression.
Each progression, a movement.
Like the thrum of guitar strings, curled in on themselves, spun into a spring, layered over a much larger background composition.
But there they were…
The patterns.
The patterns were the movements.
Harmonics, waves, playing inside the greater arrangements of earth and moon and sun and sky.
They were an effect. Not the cause.
The sound. Not the instrument.
The song. Not the musician.
She was here in the med-bay.
And on a ship in heavy seas.
She was the air and the sea and the waves and the world.
A force of will.
Of life.
If I can hold those notes together,
increase the frequency of their passage,
I could accelerate all of this even more without losing control…
Too many souls lost forever.
Not these.
Not today.
Keep going.
Nearly there.
You've got this, Max.
Ariel walked toward the light. Bumped the floating tray away with her shin.
It was only a few steps. A couple of seconds in all. Seemed to go on forever.
The light, warmth finally faded.
Her ears popped again.
A little disoriented as her eyes readjusted to seeing the world, dull in the absence of god-rays…
Her tray hit the ground as a wealth of small objects near Max clattered down.
She heard a small cough behind the curtain.
Wasn't Max.
Standing between them, hair plastered to her face, Max looked exhausted. She pulled at the tops of the sheets, uncovering their faces as they struggled to push them aside from below. One child sat up, head turning, confused.
Max burst into laughter, pulled both of them up to her in a giant squeezy teary-eyed hug.
Surprised, a little afraid, the first child anxiously scanned the room.
The other remained subdued. Both were clearly sick, but they were alive.
Max's voice the only sound. Happy whispers. "Found you… You're okay now. You're gonna be okay…"
The triage area was pin-quiet.
Even the med-staff were still.
One of the doctors finally broke the spell. "Holy. Shit."
With that, two others found their feet, ran over with Ariel to help.
Max felt the doctors pull the children away. They were too warm. Probably fever. There was a reason they didn't make it, and she only took them back to a point where there was regular breath. Any more, and they'd be moving on their own, away from each other, complicating her dance. She let the staff take over. They were here, alive. If they were still beyond help, they'd know soon enough and she could jump back to now, enforce an accelerated day or two in her own happy-field. Whatever it took.
For now, she stood back, out of the way. Thankful.
The two ex-soldiers on either side shared a silent shrug and chuckle. An accepting sort of 'WTF' that comes with the territory…
Low key, without looking at her, one held out a fist.
She bumped it out of habit.
He silently exploded it.
She pondered the journey.
How it fit.
Going back, choosing or creating paths where people lived was such an everyday thing, but this felt different.
Novel. Not an accident or instinct, rewind or loop - but another physical reality-hack.
A creative solution. An application of her mind.
And painstaking attention and effort, to be fair.
Bridging.
Felt like she'd just leveled up in some small way.
No pride in her powers, but in her invention.
Recombination.
And once she'd felt the tones, she knew she could.
In some sense, she was reminded that the universe itself was music.
Vibrations. Waves. Harmonic interactions. …effects.
Reminded, in some sense, that she was a composer, conductor and musician.
Emotion. Intention. Meaning. …cause.
Opened up another way of sensing reality, anyway…
And she'd used it for no purpose but to save two lives.
A correct path. That was important.
She felt a twinge of shame that she'd been so recently consumed by anger. Raging.
Her first thought, to physically squish the people responsible.
Special circumstances, she knew.
And she wouldn't have let herself.
Not really.
But if she had gone at them first, squishing aside, this opportunity to heal, repair, understand something new, might have been lost.
Worth remembering.
The first instinct was followed by the second thought.
In her experience, that was often the one to follow.
Another small cough.
Sensors hovered.
Max fought the urge to interfere.
They were in good hands now.
She turned. Ariel beside her, Chloe closing.
They were used to this.
…ish.
Their guests remained silent.
Another room full of strangers.
All eyes on Max.
She expected that if this worked, the reaction in the medical wing would be a repeat of the subway station in LA. A mix, equal parts fear and wonder. Uncertainty. Apprehension.
Fed a persistent reluctance.
She was prepared for it.
And in this case, it would be worth the trade.
She met their eyes, darted from face to face.
Realized she'd gotten it wrong.
This wasn't the same as that erased experiment, that long-ago subversion of acute violence.
All enclosed space and deafening and bullets and bubbles and guns…
This moment was of different construction.
Their expressions varied.
Some appeared certain they understood.
Others, certain they didn't.
But nothing in them suggested fear.
At least not of her.
She saw curiosity, a sort of warm acceptance…
Reconsidered.
This was the second contact she'd had with them.
Right.
She'd been the first person into each container.
The first friendly voice, face, and the one to lead them to safety.
They also have more context than the subway crowd…
To them, she was already on record as one of the good guys.
Her intentions weren't a nervous question…
Perhaps that was the difference?
The nature of the moment. Prior exposure. Intentions…
…maybe all she'd done here was show them a second act.
Another kind miracle…
Chloe reached Max as their silence broke.
The first, the one who started it, was a slender woman, nearest the doorway.
She put her hands together. Paper quiet.
Another, nearby, put her hands to her lips, then joined the first in slow syncopated cadence.
More joined in. Spread from one side to the other from there.
Smaller than popcorn.
It wasn't the applause of a stage show, but of an emergency room filled with weakened patients. And all the more rousing for it. Those who couldn't clap let out a small whoop or a noise, banged a plastic spoon, anything to join in the release. Celebrating the end of their ordeal to whatever degree their experience allowed. Or their own second chances, alongside those of the children - even if they didn't completely understand.
And for any who had the presence of mind to see the bigger picture, maybe something more expansive.
That's where Chloe's mind went, anyway… Racing though possibilities. Impossibilities.
Max dropped her head, half smiling, eyes down.
Even some of their own joined in.
Ariel, Taggart, Jeffries, the med staff who weren't attending the kids.
Chloe too…proud, caught up in the moment.
Only lasted a few.
Maybe it was the changeup to zero casualties that did it, but after, it was a little like daybreak. Solemnity gave way to something more hopeful. The best sign, their guests reached out to each other, began to quietly talk amongst themselves. Glances to the exits all but erased. Least for now. Chloe overheard snippets of relief, acceptance and miracles, and shared talk of something beyond right now… For some, it was people at home. For others, it was uncertainty. For others who didn't share a common language, non-verbal still carried some universal meanings. Volumes rose. Just enough.
Chloe felt as though she knew each of them at this point. Made her happy to see the mood break. And a little sad again.
This was one boat in a very large, hidden world.
She pulled a subdued Max to one side, then into a big comfortable sloppy hug. Whispered close, "Even after all this time, Caulfield. You still manage to surprise me…"
"Pft. You and me both…"
"Have to ask - are you really okay though? Saw you do the SuperMax thing earlier…"
Max chuckled, "Yeah, it, uh…don't worry. Just needed a little…space."
Took a second to sink in.
"You're fuckin' hilarious, dude," Chloe said with a subdued laugh. "Okay, so…you know, that whole 'raising the dead' thing? I mean, that gets you…at least, I don't know, ten extra character points for utility or something, right?"
"At least," Max smiled, leaned in.
Chloe shook her head, laughed a little.
"What? What's so funny?"
"Sorry. It's just, you know once Michaels finds out, he's never, ever gonna let this go…"
Max rubbed her eyes. "Oh, god, I…I know," she whispered, resigned. "Still. Worth it."
Chloe gave her a squeeze. "Yeah. But for reals, doll - nice job on this super shiny ending. This was…you…you just fuckin' amaze me. You know?"
"Well, you too, Chlo. I'm still chair of the Chloe Price fan club over here…"
"I…but…I really…I mean, I didn't think that was…Max…if you can do that…" She stopped herself before the words could spill out.
Max pulled back, met her eyes, suddenly serious. "Oh…hey…Chloe… You know. If there was ever any way I could…"
Chloe bowed her head, resting it on Max's. "I know. I do." She held a moment of hope, earlier, but deep down, she knew.
Mom's body was never found. Rachel's, newly exhumed, was in the morgue when the storm hit. Ground zero. This, what she'd just done, wouldn't work. The cemetery was untouched, so…but… Would dad even want to come back if it meant jumping eight years into a future where mom remarried, then died? What would he make of all this?
Chloe could be selfish, but…her mind wasn't the same as it was. Couldn't lie to herself. She knew the probabilities, knew him. Could forecast exactly how things would go. They'd have each other, and he'd be glad for that. But she'd see her mother's sadness in him every day for the rest of his life.
It would break her heart.
She couldn't be responsible for inflicting that pain and sadness on him.
That kind of loneliness.
Not knowingly.
She knew Max would try, if she asked. Without hesitation. And it was so fucking hard - took everything to not beg her right then and there. But for now, it would only be for Chloe. To see her dad again. She knew she couldn't put him through the rest. Not for herself.
She squeezed Max a little tighter.
Let out a breath.
I'm sorry.
Maybe someday… we'll find some way…
But…only if you can have each other back too…
Chloe stuck her head into the large makeshift pillow-fort. Softly, "Hey. Max - zero hour. Time to wind the frog."
Max looked up from her book. "Hey. Um. Been a…roller-coaster morning. For everyone. Think I'm gonna sit this next one out though. If that's okay? I mean, you were looking for an excuse to test your new ROC anyway, right?"
"Remotely Operated Chloe - cute. Yeah, she's not really ready for prime time yet. But…it's cool. Guess I could use the recreation myself after being cooped up. You sure you don't want in, though? Friendly bop on the bad guy's heads? Little closure?"
"Nah, I'm good. Feel like I'm right where I oughta be for that, you know? Not just about mine."
Chloe smiled, gave a nod. "Fair enough. Whatcha readin'?"
Max held up the book like it was a stone tablet. "Little Prince."
"Oh, man. Freakin' loved that book." One of the kids in the circle inside the fort waved at Chloe. She stuck her hand in, waved back. "If we're not taking AirMax, is it okay if we ping you for a little wormhole action when we're ready? Save some travel time."
"Course."
"A'aight. I'll catch you up on everything later. Have fun."
"K. And…thanks, Chlo. You too. Oh, hey, wait. Um, you know this was only a little piece of bigger moonlighting thing…and…I was…"
"Hours ahead of you." Chloe waved her goodbyes, backed out into the triage area.
Ariel waited for her by the elevator. "She coming?"
Chloe shook her head. "She's in a good place."
Chloe examined the spare floor they'd been using as a nexus to run their moonlighting op. Couple dozen volunteers, their huddle of active workstations and VR drone-control pods dwarfed by the vast empty floor around them. Mostly dark. Faces floated in holo-light. Morning sun was still hours away.
Chloe, over her shoulder, "Ari, what's your C2 flavor?"
Ariel pointed. "Concentric. With a right-core bias. Used to be more of a traditional front-and-center, but, you know, Michaels converted me a while back."
Chloe nodded. For someone limited to two eyes in one head, it was an efficient layout for command and control - everything visible from one spot. She kicked on overhead lights just right of center, a third of the distance out from the central core of the building. Pulled inactive workstations and control pods from the side walls, lifting, rotating them through the air in a short little dance, bringing them to rest in a precise ring shape around the column of light. Then another, larger, farther out, and yet another beyond. Chairs dropped in as holos came to life, each station with its own internal micro-reactor and network nodes. "Should be enough to get started. Facilities can finish the rest when they get in tomorrow…"
Chloe didn't have any other living telekinetics to compare to, but she strongly suspected that even within such an historically rare group, she was an outlier. Power levels aside, her artificially induced TK abilities developed alongside her augments and bio-alterations. The three in concert allowed a level of concentration, computational finesse and physical precision that was probably unprecedented. Macro or micro. A few seconds to assemble a floor layout was a minor, low complexity effort.
She took the center position with Ariel. Others in the room were drawn by the commotion; she gave them time to gather before addressing the group. "Hey, everybody. Thanks. Um, so first - I just wanna say that you guys are legit fuckin' rockstars. For reals. I love each and every one of you, and this world deserves you way more than we do. So…thanks…"
Chloe blinked. Every detail of the operation was there for her. She selected, while other parts of her went to work in the background. The air lit up as holos exploded out from center to line the far walls. The ship, Max's container jumps, maps with tracks from their own surveillance, the patients in triage, teammates helping at every stage, more. "You all know what went down last loop, and where we netted out in this one. Happy to confirm - hundred percent recovery. No casualties…"
They broke into cheers, quickly quieted down. She could see it in their eyes. Relief, pride, lack of sleep, curiosity.
She continued, "Couple of things. We know this was only a small piece of your volunteer efforts. And maybe in the grand scheme of things…well, you've all stuck with it through the craziness and batshit cosmic news of the past few weeks, so you get it. It's still important. The battles we choose, they say something about why we fight… And in the end, I think maybe that can be as important as winning the wars."
The holos rolled sideways, broke apart, consolidated into a single room-spanning feed of the cargo ship, plowing through stormy seas. They stood like Kaiju, waist-deep in the rolling sea of light. Chloe motioned to the vessel. "Still out there. It's a tiny transport. But it represents a critical part of this fucked up chain of horrible that has no place in our world. Couple hours 'til we're in sunlight here. Between now and then, we're gonna take the ship. We need intel on the senders and receivers. How it all fits into their network. Manifest is bullshit, but they might have files or logs or shadow manifests on board. Very least, they'll have something in their heads. Whatever. We'll get it. But then, come sunrise - we're shutting this little moonlighting operation of yours down."
The holo vanished, leaving Chloe and Ariel alone in an island of light.
Confused looks, furrowed brows, murmurs.
Dave spoke up, "Ari? What's going on? I don't understand. I thought…"
Ariel looked to Chloe, eyes bright.
Wheels already in motion.
Chloe shrugged. All you, dude.
Ariel scanned her teammates. "Mission's been promoted to a live, priority-one op. Full resource. Full staff - three shifts, plus two extra tactical teams and dedicated talent support. We're done watching from the sidelines guys. We have green-light for the network takedown. Global. End to end. Wherever it leads."
"Whoa…"
"Seriously?"
"Fuck. Yes."
"…'bout goddamn time…"
New holos shot from the center in a rapid, seemingly endless stream, spraying out into twenty concentric rings, each stacked five high, circling around, floor to tall-ceiling. Layers, shells, rotating, shifting. Room filling, bright. All of the surveillance they'd accumulated to date across their investigations. Records. Profiles. Transcripts. Reports. Lines drawing between them through space, linking people, networks of shell companies. Plus, a few hundred terabytes of new inter-connections, archived video, shadow financial transactions, intercepts, and missing persons reports Chloe layered in with just a few minutes of core effort, using the cumulative records of their efforts to date as a starting point.
One of the volunteers, Gareth, raised his hand, asked, "This is lovely but - quick elephant check - what's our protocol? For dealing with the bad apples, I mean? It's one thing to use our spare cycles to drop intel back to inquiring locals, but, actually taking it all down? Don't misquote, enjoy the idea, but…secret wars aside, we're not part of any recognized legal system. We're not international police, judges or jailers. We don't have any authority - none that others are like to recognize at any rate - and we are talking about a non-trivial head-count across national borders…and…"
Chloe jumped in, "Okay, first thing, so we're clear - working the bad guys is a means to locate and rescue any and all captive victims. They have to be our first priority. If there's a choice between saving a person and nailing a bad guy, person wins. …you know, sorry - let me back up. This'll make more sense if I start at the top.
"Team ranks will fill out over the next few days as people volunteer, and as we make assignments to fill gaps. We'll hold off the full kickoff briefing 'til then. Mean-time - here's the TL;DR for you guys so you kind-of get the scope of the SOPs.
"You said it - we don't have any authority other than what we give ourselves. That's cool for team support, intel, covert-ops, event-based preventive interdictions, or where we have local friendlies to hand bad actors to, like here at home. And this is criminal, humanitarian, and expansively international in scope. So, the executive board and legal teams have been busy these past couple hours on a framework.
"As of 9AM Pacific, this floor will be incorporated as a private intelligence and operational advisory group, acting on behalf of the Subcommittee of Trafficking of Persons, under the legal authority of the Human Rights Council of the United Nations. Officially, we'll be an unnamed private contractor under their direction and leadership - staffers. Just anonymous arms and legs in an undisclosed building somewhere."
Someone laughed, "…and unofficially?"
Chloe put her hand on her hip. "We own global command and control, coordinating everyone involved in the investigation and takedown of this distributed trafficking operation. Buyers too. Like I said, search and rescue mission first. But carrying UN business cards grants us cooperation from a hundred-and-ninety member countries - intelligence, military, national and local police, as well as active, cooperative access to INTERPOL's network. They have the mandate, authority and relationships, but they're way too light on resources for something like this. It's a good fit. You guys were already part-way there with them, so we shared some of what happened this morning during our discussion - civilian version anyway…offered to step up. We drive the outcome, they take the glory when it's done.
"We've always known cooperation was the best way to scale for this kind of op. We weren't starting from scratch on the language this morning. It's the right play. We're in the best position to cut through to the truth of things given our range of capabilities. And the deal leverages the reach and infrastructure of global law enforcement for their local expertise, jurisdiction and boots on the ground we don't have. Subcommittee and locals get spotlight, we stay out of it, bad guys go away, captive victims get rescued around the world. Winning."
She looked out to see more than a few stunned expressions.
Gareth asked, "So we're just scaling up our intel delivery to locals proactively, or how will this work?"
"We're still working on our IRT certs for tactical. It's a formality, but critical if our tac teams wanna go outside and play with the same cards." Chloe paced, shrugged. "Short version - we can see and do more than anyone else. And from what little I've seen, funds coming back from the trade are funneling all over the place. Entwined with drug operations, funding terrorism, arms, laundered through otherwise legitimate businesses, lining pockets all along the way. It's likely we're gonna be bumping up against a ton of other investigations at all levels - intel and coordination are gonna be critical, but no, they're not the whole game."
Another pushed through to the front. "Wait, go back. You're really serious, aren't you? We're taking lead, with the UN and INTERPOL's entire network backing us? How the hell did we pull that off?"
Chloe leaned against a workstation. Shrugged. "Relationships. You all had a few low-level contacts inside the HRC lined up around this already, so we went farther upstream. And back in our earliest days, we brought a few peeps from other subcommittees over the wall on pieces of the real big picture. Stuff from T-zero. Quietly. Specific lists of future events and trends for disaster relief, disease research, and so on. They all vouched for us here. And…we might've kinda doubled the annual budget of the trafficking subcommittee. And, you know, INTERPOL as a whole, so…things are moving quickly. Kinda shocked how small their budgets were, by the way, but that's another story. Zero push back. Anyway - like I was saying, we're not technically cleared for enforcement deployments until we get incident-response certified - downside of going by their book on this, but we can push the boundaries of 'investigator and advisor' pretty hard 'til then."
A voice behind her. "How long?" Taggart. He walked in from the core, trailing another twenty silent shadows. Fresh pre-dawn volunteers.
Ariel nodded a welcome. "The delta's only a few days. Week at most. Meanwhile, we'll find stuff for you to do. We'll need help working with national coast guards, military, intelligence services, as well as state and local LE, depending. You guys are better with their protocols…"
"In other cases, what they don't know…" shrugged Chloe. "But for everyone, be professional, continue to build relationships. Impressions matter. At some future point, we're gonna bump into some of our more adversarial networks out there in the wild, and it'll be good to have some track record and personal trust established with other good guys out there."
Another volunteer cautioned, "Speaking of…at least a few foreign politicians are in bed with local crime bosses who have a role, and even some of those LE guys on the ground are bought and paid for… Professional blind eyes."
Another added, "Some of the buy-side we've seen are well connected too… At least one repeat buyer is a first-cousin to a head of state…"
"Then we take their names," Chloe responded. "I know this is tangled, but it's our job to know who they are. They'll fall squarely in the 'bad guy' camp. If corruption's part of the problem, and we know it is, calling it has to be part of the action. We're objective, but hardly neutral. Strictest LE evidence protocols. We have an audience for it and inherit the mandate. If we hit walls, we escalate. Hit too many, we'll revisit strategy. Look, all of this is a means to an end. Our end. Long term plan, their trade's obsolete by architecture. But short term? Honestly? It makes my heart sick that there's still assholes out there doing shit like this to people."
"Welcome to the party, boss," said one.
"Why we're here…" added another.
Chloe continued, "We're small, but you guys already proved we can do something to help. And maybe it's a drop in the bucket; it's only one shipment from one network. But there's sixty people here this morning, unique and alive, who get to see their families and friends again. Have some say in the direction of their lives. They're just normal people, trying to make their way, you know? It's a giant fucking win - and to you guys that have been with it, that's all you. But…I mean…it is a drop in the bucket. So, I'm so very sorry we're late. This is a case where you're leading, and we're following. But we are following."
After a considered silence, Dave offered, "Well. It's not as though the world only has one problem in need of attention."
Others agreed.
"Still. This…is a battle worth choosing." Chloe stood. "There's more people who need help out there - caught at all points in their fucked up little supply chain. And certainly, an even larger number held captive at the end-points, some probably going on years. We've got help from nearly every law enforcement agency on the planet. Find them. Help 'em find home."
A comment from the back. "This is all great. But, respectfully, we know some of the participants are too high up in their own food chains. Protected. Calling them out won't change that if the same locals are handling enforcement."
"Of course. Protocol will be a mix for edge cases… But no one's above consequence. Again, I'm gonna be super clear - they're buying and selling people - kids, for fuck's sake. By any moral compass, by global treaties and under international law, these are rightly recognized as crimes against humanity. There is no legal safe haven for any of them. And we are the green light now. Go as high up their food chain as you need to. You don't need permission - job comes with it. If someone turns out to be truly untouchable, we have our own tac teams and the international courts. We take the evidence to the Subcommittee. Anyone lands uphill of that, use best judgement, but… Look, I don't wanna say that we answer to a higher power or anything, but given who we are and what we know, I do believe we have a greater responsibility to everyone to do everything we can. Don't we?" Chloe asked.
"And…you know, robots and spaceships and superpowers and shit…" Ariel added, casually counting off on her fingers.
Laughter.
Taggart shrugged. "I'll say it. I'm pretty damn sure we answer to a higher power."
A few nods.
Chloe finished, "So…yeah. Either way. They're not protected. Not from us."
Nods, claps and more.
"Alright. Let's rescue some peeps and make some bad guys really super sad. You have the bridge, Ari. Feel free to nominate co-leads, in or out of the team - but sleep needs to be a part of the day to day from now on. This is a professional operation, folks. We'll rely on you guys to bring the influx of new teammates up to speed as they're transferred in, real kickoff in a day or two. That's it for the 'what' for now. As to the 'how'… Let's meet back here in 30? Push through to the sun? I need to wake up few peeps before we drop in all unannounced to kick this shindig off."
Sophie leaned the bicycle against the back of the bench. A little after lunchtime. Students scurried to their afternoon classes. She grabbed her book, water and apple from the basket. The skies were grey, temperatures a few degrees above freezing, but she didn't mind. Benefit of tapping the local hive mind, she'd dressed for the day as though she'd lived here her whole life.
She relaxed along a wide section of natural canal, reflections of bare branches in the water rippling with the breeze. The University was all around her, but the nearest building was a few hundred meters behind. It was peaceful. Grasses and shrubs were overgrown along the roads and bike trails, but such abundant greenery was a welcome change from the desert.
Thoughts of mathematics, history, philosophy and art were written in the air. Among others she paid less attention to.
She kept an eye on the events unfolding back at HQ too. Most people were still asleep, but she cycled through those who were up. Had a good sense of where things were.
Her phone vibrated. She took it from her pocket. Caller ID read 'Chloe'. She tapped to answer.
After a brief delay, the screen read, "Soph?"
"Hello, Chloe. Hanging up now." She tapped again, disconnected to rejoin through her telepathic link.
Hello again, Chloe. I'm happy to see everyone is safe. You know all of them now. That's good. They can get where they need to be. And Max…wow. What she did was nothing short of awe inspiring, but…complicated emotions around that for you. Of course, yes, your parents. And your friend. I know - who was lost to you while she was held captive by another. I'm starting to understand what all of this is to you. I'm sorry - I wasn't prying, but it's all very close to the surface.
Don't sweat it, Soph. I'm very aware. And it's not like we keep a lot of secrets from our favorite camp counsellor anyway.
You called for a reason. How might I help?
You already know what I'm gonna think, right?
Yes, but it's courtesy as much as habit I suppose. Sophie shrugged to herself.
No need. But if you wouldn't mind?
No, it's okay. Let me connect the others. Max, Hector, Ariel. Hey Ty. And Mr. Taggart - welcome - we're linked with Chloe. Hello everyone.
Chloe kicked things off. My fellow insomniacs…
Some of us are just early risers. Sophie's view through Ty's eyes put him in one of the gyms.
Speak for yourself. Just wanted a quick sync with those of us who are… wait…why do I taste apples? Sophie?
Sorry Chloe. Guilty. Sophie covered her mouth, as if that would somehow help.
Hey. Soph. How's Hamsterdam?
Funny, Hector. And I'm only partway through season 2. No spoilers! But it's so good! We still need to catch up, you know.
Chloe interrupted. Dudes. Focus?
Metaphoric whistling, looking around.
Chloe continued, projecting her data-infused image of the ship to all of them in real-time. Anyway, here's the deal. There's eighteen assholes on the boat. Most are clustered here in the main superstructure under the bridge or down in engineering, but a few are on walkabout. I'm mostly interested in any drives or docs at this point. Bridge or living quarters maybe? Dunno. Don't want to give them a warning, or a chance to destroy anything.
Hector broke in. So…wait - this mean you're doing a solo speed-run?
That's what I was thinking. I can go in quiet. The engine room and bridge get a little tricky. More of them in tight spaces. But, whatevs, I'll use it. Once I've cleared the ship, you guys can follow behind, properly secure the crew while we bring in imaging and forensics for the tear-down. With me so far?
Hector broke in again. Hold up, Chloe. Sorry. What's the over-under on total time, Ty?
Huh. Let's see. That's a manageable space, but it spreads people across more than ten levels. Big dudes, but not strapped. Open stairwells for easy movement. Top down, gravity assist shaves some time off. But the drifters out in the edges add a little… Flat-out run, I say…2:1 she's under two minutes.
Really? And if we take away the arc rounds and drones?
Dude. It's Chloe. Still under, man.
Alright. I'll take you up on those odds, vato.
'Vato' now, huh? lol.
Ty. Dude. Did you really take the time to spell out 'lol' instead of just, you know, laughing like a normal person? Need help, man…
Chloe waved metaphorical arms. Uh, guys - I'm right here?
Sophie took another bite of her apple. Fun. Okay, I'm in too. Winners call the losers' songs on karaoke night?
Deal. And yeah, let's catch up once you get back, Soph. Been too long. Sis said 'hi', btw. Few weeks late, but… What about you Max?
You know better, Hector. I'll never bet against Chloe. And I hope you enjoy singing about ponies in front of strangers.
Right here? Just…standing here. Is this thing even on? Sophie heard a dull sound, like Chloe was tapping her own head.
Taggart mentally shrugged. I'm really not sure what's happening.
Alright, Max - and I hope you like 80's hair-ballads. Cause that's where we're goin'… Tokyo. Hairbands. It's on. Ariel? Pick a side. Wisely.
You know, I have so much respect for you, Chloe, but that's a lot of ground to cover. As a practical matter, I'm going to have to align myself with Hector on this one I think. One tiny delay, and… I mean. Not that I've ever been to karaoke with you guys… And not presuming to invite myself or anything, but…
Sophie giggled. It's okay, Ariel. We've been trying to put this together for a while. And I hope, then, that you also like the songs of ponies.
John is gonna be so sad he slept through this, thought Max.
Ty agreed. Snoozers lose.
Hector thought, John and Tracey can be line judges maybe. Don't think the competition's over today. Tokyo. You're goin' down, Caulfield. And no rewinds. That's cheating.
Yeah, yeah.
You know, fuck it. You guys can work this shit out yourselves. Not sure what I expected. Taggart you're paying attention - maybe you, Jeffries and a few teammates can track progress and follow my path in?
Of course. We're geared up on 23, standing by, ma'am. Got your back.
Cool. Wait… Dude. No ma'am-ing? Please? Ever? Hey - Max, can you drop a wormhole near the bow?
Um, I could put one up high? Don't you think you'd be faster? Starting from up top, I mean? Gravity, and…? Like Ty said? You know…not that that matters for anything or anything?
Hey!
Cheating! No! That's cheating!
We're not having this conversation, Max.
Fine, Chlo. Pooper. One bow wormhole, comin' up…
Chloe dropped through the dark sphere, landed on the pitching deck twenty feet below. You guys are idiots.
Yeah, we're uh, all still here, Chlo…
Oh, I know. :P Wouldn't have said it otherwise. Whatever. Fine. Hector - when does the timer start? First takedown?
Hector grinned in her mind. You'll share Max's fate either way. I'll give you that as your head-start. Clock starts with your first takedown.
Alright, my dudes. I wanna get a feel for the ship before I start. Gimmie a few?
Take your time powerpuff. You can hair-band it in front of salarymen with Max later.
Wow… So that's how it is? I was on the fence, but now? Ponies, dude. Wear it. Hangin' up.
She broke the link, a little annoyed at their banter and playfulness if she was honest. She understood the need for balance, but she'd spent the last couple hours advising on the framework, getting to know their guests, going over the network intel… This was all some pretty dark shit. Don't be too grouchy. They're still high on the happy ending this morning… You've just got a closer view of the work to come. And not much distance…
Still on comms with HQ. She streamed directly from the four drones tracking the ship, incorporating their light field and sensory data into her own vision. She saw herself through the thick rain. Dark hair, black tank top, dark jeans. Her holo interface extinguished. She was a dark smudge against the red paint of the deck, obscured in the heavy rain, moving along the small central runway between containers. Clouds were grey, seas active. She unconsciously measured as the ship flexed lengthwise from one wave to the next. Tracked the shapes of crew members in the wireframe.
The mid-ocean rain was colder than she expected. Louder too. Vindictive drops fell hard on fields of hollow metal, booming, echoing. No wonder they're all exhausted. No way to sleep through this shit. She felt the rhythmic resistance to forward movement below her feet, a slight hang pushing back with each new wave. The vibration of the engines plodded somewhere ahead and below.
She passed through the stacks, toward the bridge castle. Stark white, ten stories high. Lights on each of the bridge-wings far above, one red, one green. Water ran in sheets down the flat front of the structure, splashing at the lower edges of dark window breaks. The bridge perched at the top; crew living and workspaces lurked below, engineering farther down. The construct was the heart of the ship, three quarters of the way to the stern.
She'd been walking slowly between bulkheads. Dragging the fingertips of her right hand along the ribbed side walls of the steel containers. Wet. Numb with cold. Slip, thump. Slip. Thump. Little bit of a squeak if she pressed with her fingertips. Left a crease if she pressed too hard.
She could warm herself up, but it was only right - to feel a little of what they felt. Sympathetic resonance.
In the bulkhead in front of her, a doorway. Hatch. Open. Two men leaned inside, just out of the rain, smoking, laughing. Bare lightbulb glowed at them warmly. Chloe continued forward in the downpour. Blue-grey. Reflections breaking upside down on the deck, puddles flowing this way, then that.
Slip, thump.
Hair flat against her head, falling like seaweed at her neck. Skin chilled to goosebumps. Clothes soaked through, sagging under the weight of water. She moved like a pale drowned goddess.
One of the men squinted, finally noticed. Sharply, he called out, "Hey. You there. Come here. How did you get out?"
The other spoke into a handheld walkie, "We've got one loose - someone go outside and check the boxes!"
Chloe continued toward them. Twenty feet. Ten. Slip. Thump. Shuffle. Splash.
The first man looked to the other, then back to Chloe. "Different from the regular girls."
The other shrugged. "What 'regular'? They always look different to me. Of course, to you they look the same - you only see their asses…"
"Well, since she's out…"
"As you say." The second smirked, took a drag, cherry glowing bright orange-red. Exhaled thick smoke. "Why not. They pay us to move them. She's still moving when we dock, what does it matter?"
Chloe leaned in against the edge of the open hatch. Rust bursting through old paint, rubbing cold, rough grains into her exposed shoulder.
"Captain always takes a favorite. Only fair." He looked her up and down.
The other did the same. "She doesn't seem afraid. Maybe she likes us."
"Come. Get out of the rain, stupid girl. Let's get you out of those wet clothes. Warm you up. You like that?" The crewman looked down at her, speaking louder. As though she didn't understand his language, and more volume would bridge the gap. His breath stank like a neglected tooth. "It's what you're for. Better get used to this where you're going, eh?"
Chloe met his eyes. Nothing.
"There she is. I think she likes that. You come with us. We teach you. Get you all warmed up. Show you a good time, yes?" He reached out, grabbed her upper arm roughly. Pulled her off balance through the door. Her foot caught the lower lip of the hatch. She let herself fall, rotating. He reached down, unconcerned, grabbed her wrist and turned away. Continued to pull her along the floor on her back, dragging behind. The other flicked his cigarette butt outside. It hissed and died in a cold puddle. He closed the hatch and followed. She watched the way the second man looked down at her, trailing them.
Remembered the girl who held her hand. Squeezing.
Calloused fingers were locked tight, her back scraped along the gritty floor.
Yeah.
That's about enough of this shit.
Chloe wrapped her own hand around the wrist of the man dragging her.
Squeezed.
Small sounds. Distant. Like popcorn.
He stopped, screamed in surprise and pain as the bones of his wrist broke, ground together inside under the force of her still-closing grip.
She released him. He fell, rapidly backed away, kicking, sheltering his shattered arm against his chest, eyes wide. She picked herself up with a graceful fluidity, dusted off, addressing them calmly in their native tongue, "You know, I was willing to give you assholes benefit of the doubt. Thinking, maybe you didn't know. Maybe it was just a few." She shrugged. The trailing man halted an arm's length behind, somewhere between fight or flight, unsure what was happening. "Thanks, I guess…makes this easier."
Her left arm holo flared back to life as she re-established her mental connection to Sophie's link.
Hey. Hector. Start the fucking clock.
The world slowed as her perception sped up. Faster than a person could move, she closed with the trailing man. Cradled the side of his head gently in her palm, his hair falling out between her fingers. Paused. Imaged his skull and brain with a radio pulse, slammed it sideways into the bulkhead. Into, but not through. Measured force. Checked the thickness. He'd wake up with a concussive headache, but he'd wake up. Probably more than you deserve, fuckwit.
She looked back over her shoulder. Smiled.
Floating inches above her left wrist, a holographic numeric countdown timer. Blocky digits in amber light. 1:59. Higher up her arm, a drop counter incremented forward. 01. She left it there, visible, persistent. Triggered the playlist in her head. Hard electronica beats mixed over Swedish death-metal. Flooded her mind to set the pace. Fast. Chaotic. Dark.
She turned. Shot forward.
The other man scrambled up and away on his good arm, stumbled forward in an attempted run in ultra-slow motion. She added her momentum to his as she passed, a little push redirected him into an open door with a crunch. Head. Collarbone.
Her counters ticked up and down.
02. 1:58.
She broke into a fast, hard run.
Ariel dropped the link in favor of live comms. Went full view, filling half the ops floor. Practicality aside, everyone here wanted to see. External of the ship, plus metadata. Red dots for crew. Green for unconscious crew. Blue for Chloe. On the move. Her blue dot was closer to a dash.
Fuck, she's fast.
Ariel felt a cold gust of wind. Beyond the holo of the ship, the connecting wormhole hung in space halfway to the outer end of the ops floor. Bent grey clouds, sea - rain pouring through. Someone ran off a few minutes ago, searching for an inflatable pool to put under it. Apparently, there were a few in some closet or another, along with a sump and coiled drain hoses. Ariel was surprised that she wasn't more surprised they had a contingency for rainy indoor wormholes.
Chloe's blue dash passed another red one. It turned green as the blue kept going. Down two levels in a fast spiral. Another green. Engineering levels. Open catwalk. Six red dots, four together, two more scattered. Two changed to green at the same time without moving. Two more split up. Blue and red became purple. Then cyan. Blue rebounded off the next like a pinball, moved away, leaving greens. It went like that.
Ariel looked to the counter on her own watch.
45 seconds in.
Ten down. Eight to go?
Jesus fucking Christ…
Taggart, across the holo, wormhole-side, must have noticed her expression. He nodded toward the dots. "She's held top of the leaderboards - obstacle course, urban live fire, hand to hand, three-gun - long as we've had 'em. Beyond fast. Every moment a purpose. Never misses. Only Navarro's ever come close. It's a…comical gap to the number three slots. And some of these guys, they're the elite of the elite…"
Ariel shook her head. "I mean, I know…well, I've heard all this stuff, you know…but…"
He chucked, seemed to understand. "First time? Running one of 'em direct?"
"I guess, yeah. Spent an hour on team support once. After the shooting on New Year's, but…"
He nodded. "…it's different in real time. You were there for the light show earlier…Max? …and after. I mean, I've worked with a few talents…another life. These two, well…they bring a whole other level of unreal."
"No joke. I'm just really, really glad they're on our side," she mused.
He paused, considered. Asked, "Got kids?"
"No. I, uh… No danger of that…not for a while, you know? You?" Semi-automatic response. Her eyes tracked the blue dash.
He got quiet. "Two baby girls. Weird little biscuits. They take over your life, you know, just…become center. Can't imagine… Anyway, they're gonna grow up in this world. Outside. It'll all be theirs someday. What we leave behind, that's all they inherit. So, I'm here for them. You said…that you're glad they're on our side…Max and Chloe."
"Aren't you?" She smiled. "I mean, we'd be so completely screwed if they were the bad guys… Or neutral…"
"I see it different. I'm guessing I'm some older than you. Worked for a lot of people over the years. Different outfits. Missions. All okay, but…never really believed in any of them. God and country came the closest… Others didn't really matter, so…didn't need to. Anyway, wife and I, we were here in Vegas couple of years back. Would have been inside the perimeter. Ground zero. Slept right through it. Wasn't 'til later, here, that I found out what almost happened. Scared me in a way I can't describe. Would have been the end for my whole family. Every possible future…erased.
"That's what Max and Chloe mean to me. I'm sure they have no idea, but they saved all four of us. Everything they've done, everything they stand for - it's aligned with a bright happy world for my little girls. I believe in this mission. In them. And so, it's a subtlety, but here's the difference for me; I'm proud as hell for the opportunity to be on their side."
Ari nodded. She was here for different reasons, but the threads were common enough among co-workers. "True enough."
Her eyes followed the blue dot as it raced back up the stairwell.
Chloe jumped back up the stairs. Pulling on railings and pushing off steps, she cleared half a level with each burst. Everything below main deck was clear. There were four people up top on the bridge, leaving four scattered on levels between. Two in a workout room, two in the mess. One of those was heading for the hallway above.
She rounded a corner at the top of the stairs, pushed off the wall to make the turn. Door opened on the other side. She threw her body through the opening, into the shirtless man. She went down with him; his head bounced off the floor. She kept rolling. Under a table, kicked up, throwing it into the face of the eating man. Corn flakes. Milk. Spray. Hang time. Slid through, out the other side, up the stairs on the other end.
12. :55.
Kept racing up. Forward.
Through the door of the exercise room. Pieces of it hit one of them. Disoriented. She straight-punched the other. Head snapped back. Dropped. Turned fast, caught the disoriented dude with an elbow to the back of the head. Went down with his weights.
Out again, hard turn, up the stairs.
Bridge door. Closed.
Passive sensing, through the door.
Multispectral.
Something close.
Active pulse.
Reflection - shotgun waiting at head height.
Crouched low. Opened. Shotgun blast kicked the door, penetrated above, tore a ragged hole. Pushed all the way open, dove through. Surveillance cam piped to the bridge. Shotgun was a fluke. Something they had. Four. One close, two far side, one between.
Shotgun first. She rose, slow motion, but faster than his slow motion. Took hold of the barrel with one hand, his chest with the other, lifting up, applied voltage - arcs coursed through him. Powder ignited, the weapon jerked, sending shot harmlessly toward the ceiling. Watched the flash leave the barrel. Released her grip. He fell slowly. She twirled, striking the crewman beyond him with the back of her hand. Under the jaw, sideways and up. Out cold. The first still hadn't hit the deck.
She ran, threw herself sideways through the air, tucking, barreling toward the next nearest man, bouncing him off the back wall with her body.
A desk. Books, folders. Ledger. Logs? Open.
One man remained.
She slowed her perception, back to real-time. He rushed her. Big dude. Close. Swinging. Hit air. She body bumped him, adding to his own momentum. He flailed to the deck. She rolled her eyes. Bored. Turned away, toward the logs, lifted him with her mind, set his head near the center of an accelerating flat spin until he passed out.
Through comms she said, "Clear." His body thumped down behind her as she flipped through the log.
18. :22.
Sophie and Max cheered in her head. She had a visual of Ty nodding along in sage fashion. Like it wasn't even a question.
Hector was crickets.
Over comms, Ariel said, "Fine piece of work. …sending cleanup through now. Forensics in five." Chloe squinted out through the bridge wipers. Couldn't see much forward through the rain in visible light. Drone view showed team members dropping down a thick back rope, emerging from the bottom of the wormhole. Working their way along the trail of unconscious bodies with zip-ties.
Hector broke his mental silence. Okay. That was tight…
Chloe slumped into the captain's chair, propped her feet up. Sighed. Not really. No weapons. Well, one weapon. No training. They might as well have been NPCs with casual-mode algorithms. That was pure idiot-golf, dude.
Still.
No, seriously - only thing I was fighting was the clock. And to be honest, I could have shaved twenty-four seconds if I'd come with arc rounds.
No, that's cool - if you don't want the win…
Oh, don't get me wrong. You're singing your fuzzy little rainbow heart out come karaoke night…
Max laughed in her head. Chloe saw bright bubbles of happy.
Hector thought, Well, least I won't be alone up there. Shit, Ariel's not linked anymore, is she?
Nope. You're on your own.
Max's brightness. Too bad, too. Exiled from Team Chloe… Cold place to be… ;-)
Chloe leafed through the heavy green log. Quick scanning, looking for patterns. Tossed it aside. Certificates on the wall. Framed picture of the ship in some port or another. Binders clipped into shelves along the back. Stepped over two unconscious crew-mates. Usual stuff. Maps, port depth charts, emergency systems and procedures, navigation frequencies… nothing useful. Nav history. Manifests. Nothing there that deviated from official records they'd already pulled.
Over comms, "Nothing obvious on the bridge. This might take a while."
The last crewman to go down moved as the blood settled back into his head. His eyes, unfocused, rolled around. Finally found Chloe. He blinked a few times, tried to sit up.
Switching languages, Chloe asked, "Are you going to behave, or do we need to hit you on the head repeatedly with heavy objects until you stop moving?"
He held his hands out in a disinterested surrender. Shook his head. Sat up and scooted until his back was up against a wall. Elbows on his knees, he watched. Finally asked, "Who are you? Why are you here? What do you look for?"
"…second thought…" She gave his head a small telekinetic bounce off the wall. He slumped forward, leaned precariously to one side before eventually toppling over.
"I don't need to hear from you."
Couple from the tac team got to the bridge. She skimmed personnel files through the wormhole. "Hey Steve. Lana. Four here. You get the guys downstairs?"
"Yes, Mrs. Price. We split up into a few teams. These are the last four," Lana answered, as they worked zip ties on wrists and ankles.
Over her earpiece, Ariel's voice. "Chloe, forensics and imaging teams are coming through now. We can take it from here. You should get some rest… Thank you. Both of you. For everything…"
"Heading back." Chloe stood up, stretched, yawned. "It's been brought."
Max snuck out of the fort. Kids were all blanketed up and tuckered out. Mission accomplished. She made her way through the dimly lit triage area, where many of the others had also found sleep.
Soph? Can I get a private channel to Chloe?
Of course. Chloe, you're on privately with Max.
Hey, Chlo.
Hey Maxi. Was just gonna do the same. Headin' back to crash out. Feels like only five hours ago we were eating midnight noodles, right?
That's cause we were eating midnight noodles like, five hours ago. Weirdo.
That was the joke dot com.
You're a dot com. Take a detour. Meet me up on the roof? We should celebrate the happy endings and a new sunrise with hot cocoa before passing out.
Sounds planlike. Wanna stop by medical first though… Check in.
Just leaving. Half are asleep, more on the way out. They're okay for now. Come up when you get back. I'll have half a blanket waiting for you.
K. Gimmie a few then. On foot.
Max pressed the button for the roof. Leaned. Waited. That'll give me time to heat up the milk. :)
You rule. I think there's still some baby marshmallows in the cupboard by the grill up there. Survivors of 'The Tiny S'mores Incident'?
OMG, that was so sad. Second they got warm, they slid right off the tines to a fiery, goopy doom…
Glad we didn't have to clean it up. They'll have better survival odds in hot chocolate. And then, right into my belly.
So true! They can float together. Like sugary friends in a little marshmallow hot tub. Of chocolate. You know, 'til they get surprise digested. But…them's the breaks in the 'mallow life… The elevator door opened to the rooftop. Max walked out, heading for the open-air kitchen area by the pool. Hummed quietly in her head as she poured fresh whole milk into a pot, turned on the stovetop.
Chloe, after a minute, more serious. …it's not over yet.
I know. Neither's our team, silly. They've got it. Sophie gave me the download. Deal we hammered out. That's huge… I mean, there's way more honest, competent, everyday good guys around the world than there are bad guys. Just need a little focus on the problem, our kind of intel, and some help coordinating with each other across borders is all. I feel so good about this.
Still wanna keep an eye on things…
Max scooped a little extra cocoa into each mug, stirred in the hot milk, breaking the clumps of cocoa powder against the side with the bottom of her spoon. Watched the vortex form, steam rising above. Plopped a handful of mini-marshmallows into each. They swirled to a stop. She carried the mugs to the small tables on each side of the chaise lounge by the pool.
You will. Like you do everything else… She pulled a soft fuzzy blanket from under-seat storage, unfurled it. Team will let us know if there's something we can help with. Like they did this morning. For now - you, me, sunrise. Hot cocoa. Chill time. We did good. :D
There was a hint of less dark, off to the east.
Max looked to the horizon. Took a quick sip.
The stars began to fade as the night gave way to dawn.
I know, Max. You're right. Sorry - still kinda amped I guess. You had your time-out earlier. Then your mini-Lazarus projects. I uh, I didn't really get a chance yet. Boat run wasn't as cathartic as I'd hoped. But…I guess all of this has helped put the universe back in perspective a little. You know? Like you said. Even with all the mystery alien bullshit out there somewhere, there are still people who need help. Here. Now. Have to keep going on all fronts. But…yeah. Meh. Could stand to zone out for a few.
Well, I'm up here all alone on our roof with the snuggliest, most fuzziest blanket to ever exist in the history of all of ever. Two steaming hot cocoas, sun's about to come up… This is as good a zone as any. Now get up here and cuddle with your adorable sidekick and loving wife. You'll feel better. Promise.
Waiting for the elevator now. Wait… I have a cute sidekick too? And you guys are together? This sounds…fun.
You wish… Wait… do you wish?
Cute. Almost to the roof. And Max-cuddle-time sounds exactly amazing.
Okay. I'll see you in a sec. We should maybe let Sophie get back to her vacay…
Oops. Shit. Sorry, Soph. Sometimes I forget we're in your head. You must be ready to blow your fucking brains out by now, stuck listening to us babble…
I heard my name? Sorry - I've been reading. But there's a duck here who would very much like my attention I think, and probably a bit of leftover apple too. What did you need?
We're good, Sophie - cuttin' ya loose. Say hi to the duck. Wait, can you actually talk to ducks? Never-mind. But thanks again for jumping into the mosh this morning. Couldn't have done it without you.
Well, you could have, but I'm always glad to help. It was a good outcome. Call again if you need me. :D
They disconnected from the link as Chloe's elevator arrived with a soft 'ding'. A few clouds showed hints of pink and peach. The lights of the Vegas skyline faded with the competition from above. Calm.
Max made room next to her, pulled the blanket gently back.
Footsteps, the clomp and bounce of boots falling to the tile behind her. A zipper, and the sound of…wet clothes slapping to the ground?
Chloe, naked, climbed under the blanket, body-hugged Max like a squid.
Max twitched violently. "CHLOE! Oh my god! You're so freakin' wet and COLD! Cold like a big wet dog! Gah! Get off me! Turn on your heater!"
"Heh heh. Cuddle with meeeeee! Love meeeee!" Chloe wrapped tighter, shaking her head to scatter droplets.
Max laughed, struggling to get free. "You suck! You just ruin everything!"
"Oh my god, that's so not true. I am a precious ray of sunshine, and you adore me and you know it."
"I know. I do. With all my heart."
"See? I'm already warmer. Better?"
Max ceased her attempts at freedom. "Yes. You're such a goddamn jerkface sometimes though. I was so relaxed."
Chloe reached out from under the blanket. Took a sip of cocoa. "Thanks for the hot chocolate, Max."
"Welcome… Next time it'll be cold cocoa if you're not careful. Brat. Now quiet. Watch the sunrise with me."
"You know, I've heard there are actual people out there who try to make hot chocolate with water?"
"No way. Savages. …now shush."
Clouds showed definite signs of color. The skies above the mountains took on an early bright blue.
"Yes ma'am. This is me. …quietly watching the sunrise."
"…Chloe."
"…did I mention I'm naked?"
"Chloe."
"Alright, alright. Giant ball of hydrogen diffracting through nitrogen gets priority. I see how it is."
"…"
Rays of peach scattered out from a common spot just below the horizon.
Max kissed Chloe on her cheek. Snuggled.
Chloe snuggled back, arm and leg over Max.
After a minute of quiet, Chloe whispered loudly, "You're pretty."
"CHLOE!"
"Well. You are."
Max rolled her eyes, sighed.
The first of the new sun cracked over the distant peaks, casting the world in reds.
"…and you smell nice."
Max snorted. "One more peep, love of my life, and imma bubble you and drop you right in the pool."
Chloe snuggled down. "…fiiine." Leaned up, kissed under her jaw, rested her head on Max's shoulder.
The lower edge of the sun broke free of the mountaintop.
They held each other through the symphony of color, the first golden hour of the day.
Calm, sharing the rise and fall of each breath...
After, as the sun climbed higher, Max whispered, "Wanna go sleep in now?"
Chloe nodded. "Yeah. In a minute. This is nice too."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Max sniffed at Chloe's hair. "And I do adore you, love."
"I know. And to me, you've become unique in all the worlds…"
Max folded them to bed downstairs. They flopped into the lush pillows. "You remember it. Heh. Well…you tamed me too you know." She wrapped herself around Chloe like a happy sleepy starfish.
"That makes us responsible for each other."
"yeah…forever…"
They faded into sleep.
Half-awakened as someone fuzzy leapt onto them on his way to somewhere else. Circled back.
Fell back to sleep as little paws tread lightly, curling to a rest between them.
Ball of fluff, purring softly.