Page 52 of Spark Transform

“See for yourself.”

Another holo appeared, this one a recording tagged with a time code from several hours ago. A nondescript, mixed-ethno man in a pub, leaning against the wall, partially hidden in shadow. Shoulders hunched, head down.

A woman’s voice came from somewhere out of view. “Steal a custom, high-tech explosives package or two from your last construction gig, did ya’?” The tone was heavy with skepticism.

The man looked up with just his eyes, making him look like a turtle. “I know more about demolition than any construction company on the planet.” The man’s noticeable Nordic accent clipped the English syllables. “Tell me your target, I’ll tell you how to bring it down.” His smile turned sly, his eyes bright. “Everyone has enemies. Want to see them burn?”

A shock of recognition pulsed through Josh. The man in the holo was a Kameleon. A top-secret, reconfigurable spy for the CPS, as he’d once been.

The man’s personality overlay was one often used on Josh. He’d named it the bomber, but he only had remnants and echoes. The man in the holo had the full-blown persona. It was like looking in a distorted mirror.

From what he gathered in reading Davidro’s journals, the overlay was popular among Kameleon handlers. Very paranoid, very lethal, weirdly loyal, and zero compunction regarding targets or methods.

Josh muted the recording’s audio. “If he’s active, he’s got an onboard processor that records everything he sees and hears.”

“Yeah, we know.” The pub holo faded. “Ayasha sent him after one of our decoys.” Josh had used the bomber overlay remnants to help design the meandering trails and dead ends that deflected would-be intruders. He hadn’t anticipated an active Kameleon with the bomber overlay. The universe liked irony.

Tuzan shook his head. “Eerie seeing your mannerisms and attitude magnified like that.”

“Agreed.” Josh pulled up his robe’s hood against the sudden chill. “How did he find our trail?”

“From what Ayasha could pick out of his fractured mind, he’s tracking leads from a finder. The CPS always thinks the priority threat is a minder uprising. He dangled the wrong bait.”

“Maybe. The bomber knows conspiracies, and he’s got an eye for people with secrets. He might have been confirming what our operation isn’t doing.”

“You have a point.” Tuzan frowned. “It means we’re in the CPS’s nets, even if they can’t pick us out of a data stream yet.” His frown deepened as the silence lengthened. “We should talk about spindown on our terms.”

“Yes.” Relief washed over Josh. He’d been afraid he’d have to force the issue at the cost of their friendship. “Contingencies, too.”

Tears welled in Tuzan’s eyes. “My sister wanted to save them all.”

Josh regretted not being there in person to hug him. Tuzan’s scary minder talents meant people shied away from him, and the man thrived on touch. “I’m selfish. I just want to save the people I love, and the people they love.”

“Maybe we can’t stop the bloody Legacy from killing millions.” Tuzan’s shoulders squared. “But we can try.”

“I have some ideas,” said Josh cautiously. He didn’t want to push too hard.

“Ideas?” Tuzan laughed. “You already have plans within plans and backups of the backups. Let’s hear them.”

Chapter 19

Planet: Mabingion • GDAT 3242.226

Arco stood next to Brenner beneath a roof overhang, out of the icy drizzle. Ten meters in front of them, the walkway and street dead-ended at a three-story-tall, dark road-glass wall with no discernible purpose, at least not from this side of it. Based on the clouding and pockmarks visible under the night-time street lights, it had been there for decades.

She blew out a loud breath that fogged in the cold. “I bet Ridderth hasn’t updated its pedestrian maps since before the fall of the Central League.”

It had been a long, busy day. Her joints ached again, as if she had a fever, except she didn’t. She’d decided it was blowback from overusing her minder talent. More specifically, her new shields. The pain appeared to be a side-effect of keeping the shields up at all times. She hoped it would get better with time.

Brenner shrugged. “No profit.”

“Of course.” They turned and walked back toward the intersection.

She was grateful for her warm, hooded coat. The flexin armor tunic wasn’t as warm as she’d expected.

At close to midnight, air traffic was light. The street level was nearly deserted except for automated security bots and roving camera eyes.

For reasons she couldn’t guess, this neighborhood’s streets and buildings were as brightly lit as any entertainment district. But with no restaurants or pubs to draw people in, it felt like walking through a ghost town or after-hours in a poorly designed immersive-experience park. Even the quiescent construction sites had all-hours lighting. Yet another Ridderth mystery.