REHO: A Science Fiction Thriller (The Hegemon Wars) (16 page)

Something human-like entered the back room, moving through the rows of books. Its shadowy fingers danced on the walls as light flickered somewhere in the room. It reminded Reho of something from his nightmares.
Jimmy.

Coder jerked on his arm and pointed to a door across the room. Without hesitation, she ran for the door, pulling Gibson and Kawasaki behind her. As he looked over his shoulder, Reho saw a massive shadow stretch across the room. Its two arms multiplied into eight before disappearing behind him.

The streets were empty as they ran. Whatever it was, it hadn’t followed them out onto the street.
Why?

They stopped several miles away from the tattoo shop and took cover in an alley off the main street. Reho saw no signs that it had followed them.

They agreed that everyone would return to Neopan and meet at the Yaman Overpass just before Shibuya. Gibson had mentioned the area while on the voyage from Usona. Arcade was self-sustaining and provided opportunities to anyone registered and willing to cooperate with Log’s law. For those wanting to deviate, Shibuya was the place where one could hide, its name taken from a once popular commercial sector of OldWorld Tokyo. Now, the ancient railway and underground subways were both the physical and virtual homes for these outcasts. Gibson hadn’t grown up there but spent much of his youth with friends who had, his parents having fought hard to keep him from throwing away his life to live with criminals.

Gibson and Kawasaki were the only ones registered and could disconnect from Arcade using their trinity buttons. Gibson would wake Reho and Rainne and gather the rest of the crew. Kawasaki agreed to meet them at the overpass. Coder would return to Kawasaki’s shop and use an ejection serum to wake her body from inside Arcade.

Gibson faded first. Reho hadn’t seen it before and thought it amazing. Everything about Arcade felt real: the cold air, the fear, and the sweat on his back. Gibson dissolved before him, pixelating until nothing was left. Kawasaki and Coder remained with Reho until Gibson had made it through and was able to wake them.

Kawasaki sat against the wall, fidgeting with a device Reho had noticed before. It was attached with a strap to the underside of his arm above his AIM

“What’s the device for?”

“It’s a tracker,” Kawasaki replied.

“What’s it linked with?”

“It’s connected to the Phoenix.”

Coder looked up. “Phoenix? But that’s just a myth.”

“Does Gibson know it’s real?” Reho asked.

“He suspects,” Kawasaki replied.

Coder glanced at Reho, her face sullen.

“But you know.” Reho paused. “You found the signal?”

“Kind of,” Kawasaki replied. His head remained down, eyes fixed on the device. “It is truer to say that the signal found me.”

“How long does it take that idiot to wake up two people?” Coder asked nervously. “You’re staying in the same hotel, correct?”

“Yes, the Shining Moon.”

“What is it tracking?” Reho asked again.

“Ends . . . Thursday . . . Sola . . . ” Kawasaki replied. “Everyone.” He unsnapped a fist-size electrical device from his upper arm. Two blue bursts struck near Reho, a third hit his side. Kawasaki turned the gun on Coder and released a series of blasts. They found their target. Reho reached for Kawasaki, but it was too late. He felt weightless as his body pixelated.

Gibson stared down from above the scene. Rainne was still in bed, the sheets tucked beneath her chin. Reho felt the notebook fall from his chest; it hit the floor as he stood. He hadn’t thought of his nudity, but it didn’t matter.

“Coder’s in trouble!” He blasted the words as though it could stop what he knew was happening.

“What are you talking about?” Gibson asked. “And what the heck happened to your side?”

Reho felt Rainne’s hands on his back as he sat on the edge of the bed. His skin had been singed from the blast. It was black and tender to the touch, reminding him of the hot shells that the Fighter had launched at him.

“It’s Kawasaki,” Reho said, ignoring Gibson’s other question. “I think he’s killed her. I also think he’s the one that killed her brother.”

Gibson bit his lip. “I’m going wake the others. We’ll meet in here and decide what to do next.”

“Wait. There’s more. Kawasaki mentioned the Phoenix satellite and that he had some device that was tracking us here in Neopan.”

Gibson threw his hands in the air and paced the room. “Dammit! The thing is real, and now it’s being used to hunt us down!”

***

Gibson left to alert the others, while Reho and Rainne threw on some clothes. She was quiet, shocked by the turn of events. She stayed pressed against Reho, weak and afraid of what she had been thrown into. Reho sensed that it was all too much for her. But she was safest here with them, with him.

Everyone met in Reho and Rainne’s hotel room. Ends had placed the equipment on the bed, including his tracking monitor in its briefcase, a bag filled with gadgets that Sola had said came from their employer, and two packs, one filled with medical supplies and the other with provisions. They hadn’t expected what they now faced. Things were complicated, but at least now they knew their mission. There was never really any choice but to move forward and meet with the Black Hats. No other options were given. Rainne had fled from her homeland, having lost everything to the Hegemon. The crew had always been working toward this goal. That left Reho, who felt transformed for the first time, from a wanderer—a man whose home had been taken away due to choices he’d made and now had to live with—to a real member of Ends’ crew. His own tragic life had always been tied to the aliens, from his mother’s abduction while pregnant with him to her insanity as a result. Even his dreams hadn’t been immune. And now this: the Hegemon threat.
And there was Jimmy, too. It had to all be connected somehow.

It was Rainne who asked the difficult question they’d all been avoiding.

“How are we going to leave the city?”

“Slow down, sweetie. We’re figuring it out,” Thursday said, a touch of sarcasm in his voice.

“The issue is Log’s Vectors,” Gibson said.

“Log’s what?” Thursday asked with a scowl on his face.

“You don’t know about the Vectors?” Gibson looked around the room. No one responded. “Oh wow! You grew up here and never heard about the Vectors? I hate knowing all this.”

“Tell us, Gibson,” Ends said.

“Log is an AI system. It can’t physically enforce anything unless it’s wired to it. Out here it’s just watching with cameras and reading whatever information gets fed to it. That’s why communities like Shibuya exist. And they exist because there aren’t enough Vectors to force them to comply.” Gibson waited for questions, but none came. “Vectors are androids, Log’s security protocols. I don’t know how many actually exist, but they’re rarely used. Log uses them only when it feels threatened.”

“Jesus!” Ends said. “How certain are you that Log will use them?”

“Considering what we learned about Kawasaki and the fact that at least one person has been murdered tonight, I’d say it’s not only probable but inevitable,” Gibson replied.

“Then we need to move quickly,” Sola said.

Ends formulated the plan. He would go out to the street and secure a city taxi. No one asked what he meant by that, but they knew they’d have to move quickly to reach Shibuya without any issues with Vectors. The crew would wait five minutes, then head into the lobby with the gear. Ends would be waiting with their ride.

Rainne was in the bathroom; he could hear the water running. Their relationship, first ignited on the yacht, had been suspended since arriving in Neopan. Everything had changed at an unexpected pace. She hadn’t mentioned her sister since arriving, but her faraway gaze told Reho how often she drifted back to that dreadful night, to her sister, bloodied and weeping, incapacitated by her massive girth, forced to witness the demise of her father’s kingdom and the death of his people from a wheelchair. Rainne would have to live with the memories. It would g
et easier, but that took time.

And then there was Jimmy. Somehow he was tied to everything. Reho felt his dreams’ connectedness with his childhood, his mother’s screams.
What had tormented her all those nights until her death?

Sola looked up from the watch she’d been eyeing since Ends left. “It’s time.”

Everyone grabbed a bag and made their way to the elevator. They saw no one as they left the ninth floor.

Reho glanced at his Casio: 3:14. Sunrise was still three hours away. They had the greatest chance of reaching the fringed sector of Neopan if they were at the overpass before sunrise. From there, Reho hoped that, somehow, Coder might arrive, though given the direct hits her torso had taken, he knew it was unlikely. Then there was the issue of Kawasaki. He knew where they were going, and that jeopardized their plan.

They entered the lobby and scurried past the front desk. There was no one around except the night clerk, who was preoccupied and didn’t bother to ask if they’d enjoyed their stay.

A silver cab was pulled close to the curb. The driver was gone. The trunk was popped as Ends and Thursday rushed their equipment into its compact space.

“Let’s go,” Ends said as he jumped into the driver’s seat. Everyone piled in—four crammed in the back, Sola riding shotgun.

“Which way?” Ends asked.

“Take West Byt then North on Cardt,” Gibson replied.

Other silver taxis passed them as they made their way onto Cardt. Neopan lit up at night, reminding Reho of pictures of OldWorld Tokyo. There was beauty in the city despite its threat. The alien infrastructure was meant to contain them and offer what the outside world couldn’t: security. They’d traded a certain level of freedom for the safety Log offered. But not everyone saw it that way. The Hegemon had never left. And apparently Log was not an independent entity. It was tied to Omega in ways that maybe only Kawasaki understood. And he wasn’t on their side.

Blue and green lights flashed ahead.

“What is this?” Ends asked, knowing the answer before Gibson could respond.

“Turn right!”
Gibson said.

They turned off the main road and headed north. The taxi lurched forward as Ends pushed the accelerator to the floor. Behind them, black and grey cars approached, flashing lights obscuring the faces of their drivers.

“Left!” Gibson said. The crew in the backseat leaned in unison. The city taxi swerved as one of the pursuit vehicles nudged its bumper.

“We’re not going to outrun them,” Thursday said.

Ends jerked the wheel left and right, but the car remained on his bumper.

“They’re Vectors,” Gibson said.

“How strong are they?” Sola asked. “Can they be shut down or killed or whatever?”

“Yeah. I mean, they’re replicated after humans,” Gibson replied.

“So if I rip its head off, it’ll stop moving?” Thursday said.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Get us on the side of the car. I’ll take out the Vectors and meet you at the overpass before sunrise,” Thursday said. Ends didn’t reply. The car jerked as a second car slammed against them.

“We’re not going to last if we don’t take out the cars,” Thursday said.

“Do it,” Ends said, tapping the brake, sending one of the cars along side Thursday’s window. Thursday lowered the window and slipped one leg outside the car. He looked back at Reho.

“You up for this?” he asked, a smile wide across his face.

Thursday rocketed his body out the window and onto the hood of the car next to them just as it slammed against the side of their taxi. He disappeared behind them as the other car swerved back into the lane behind them. Reho twisted his body and kicked out the back window. The car them rammed again before Reho could jump. It sent their taxi through a shop window. Their tires smoked as Ends kept the accelerator to the floor, jerking them out of the shop’s window frame back onto the road. Their pursuer stopped ahead.

“Stop! Let me out!”
Reho said but didn’t wait for a reply. He climbed out the back window. “We’ll meet at the overpass.”

Unsure what the Vectors would do, Reho raced ahead empty-handed to the pursu
ing car that had stopped ahead.

Both doors opened, and two blue androids stepped out into the night, their eyes and mouths lit red from within. Their thin bodies and stony faces resembled OldWorld mannequins dressed in black business suits. The driver came around to the front and stood next to the passenger. Neither seemed to be armed.

“You are Reho, Identification 8798324. You are in violation of Neopan Article 498C and Arcade Article 58B, 90E, and 108A,” the passenger android said. Its mouth didn’t move; a mechanical voice projected from a speaker behind its artificial lips.

Tires squealed behind him, but Reho didn’t need to turn around to know what was happening.

“Log has targeted everyone with you for questioning in regards to illegal activities surrounding the death of Bradford 9850321. Resistance will result in physical measures,” the driver said.

“Your companions must not leave,” the other replied as it walked away from the car and approached the space ahead of the crew’s taxi.