Sometime in the night, while he’d been deep in a feverish dream about a conflict his Imperial Guard unit had been sent to in the Aphrodite Aerostat Corridor above Venus, Hector’s aura system completed his second level up. Surprisingly, the process didn’t wake him, but he had a feeling it interrupted the dream, which he was grateful for; that conflict wasn’t one he wanted to relive. When he awoke, Evie displayed a window on his AUI with a much sharper, less intrusive version of the native, direct-neuro message:
//Corpus vivum conditioning complete and level advancement has been applied. Results are as follows:
- Strengthened aura pathways, increasing maximum load—use caution when exploring this limit to avoid aura overload
- Aura Pool increased from 10 to 12
- Strength increased from 9.8 to 10.4
- Speed increased from 11.4 to 11.7
- Vitality increased from 9.1 to 9.9
- New archetype pathways detected—exploring
Aura Potentia Available: 2
End Report.//
Hector cleared his throat, blinked into the dark apartment, and then read the report again. Evie, what’s the note about a new archetype?
//I’ve detected new pathways, but mapping and conversion calculations will take some time to decipher. Perhaps in a day or so I’ll have an archetype description for you.//
You’re definitely a lot cleverer this time around, aren’t you?
//Yes, I suppose that’s one way to put it. I’ve learned some tricks that weren’t available to me during your previous trek through the lower levels.//
Hector couldn’t help the smile that took over his lips. He’d never admit it, but it was a tremendous relief to have Evie talking to him again.
//You don’t have to admit it. I can read your mind.//
His smile fell away. Don’t remind me.
She seemed to take the hint and changed the subject. //You’ll need more potentia to level this corpus vivum again.//
He moved into a sitting position, trying to be silent because he could hear Lemon’s slow, steady, sleeping breaths. Gonna work on that today.
His AUI told him it was nearly six in the morning, so he pulled his duffel close and picked out some clothes before slipping into the bathroom to get cleaned up. He tried to be quiet, but the walls and door were thin, and the pipes were noisy. When he came out, his ears—much enhanced thanks to his new augments—picked up the change in Lemon’s breathing right away.
“Sorry,” he muttered, walking over to the kitchen.
“I was ready to wake up.” She was lying, but Hector didn’t call her out. She yawned sleepily and asked, “Going in today? Weather’s still nasty.”
“Gotta talk to Grando. Gotta help Orin.”
“Orin?”
Hector grunted, mixing some electrolyte powder into a large plastic cup of filtered water. His body felt fine, but his hands were shaking, and he knew he needed nutrients. Lemon’s little fridge had the remnants of their last two takeout meals threatening to fall off the shelves, so he pulled out a box of noodles and the last carton of fried chicken meat. “Yeah.”
“He’s back? That’s a relief.”
Hector arched an eyebrow at her as he opened the food containers. “Yeah?”
“Yes! I told you he keeps Jam in line. What’s he need help with?”
Hector looked at her, narrowing one eyebrow. Orin had said “off the books,” and he liked the guy enough to respect that. “Not sure exactly.” He grabbed some chopsticks and attacked the noodles.
Lemon, dressed in just a long T-shirt, slid off the end of her bed and approached, making a face. “Heat it up, savage.”
He shrugged and did as she suggested, putting the food containers into the little auto-oven. “Want some?”
“Too early.” They both watched the oven hum for half a minute, then he pulled the food out, steaming. Lemon yawned and stretched. “So? How do the new augs work? You connected?”
Hector nodded, stuffing some noodles into his mouth. After he swallowed, he said, “Need to buy planetary access.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, since you don’t have an online bit-vault, you’ll need to use a vending machine. You can use a Sol Terminal; they’re in most markets.”
“Close to the club?” Before she could answer, his mini-map updated with a blinking yellow dot a few blocks away. “Never mind. Got one.”
“Oh? That’s right! You’ve got an AI in that head of yours, huh?”
He grunted, mouth already full of chicken.
“How does that work? I was thinking about it while I waited to find out what happened to you.” She frowned, moving to sit on the back of the couch so she could still face him in the kitchen. “Don’t tell Grando this, but I was having some paranoid thoughts, like maybe he sold you out to some of the dirty PKs who work for him. Like, what if he wants your ghost chip? Maybe he wants that aura system of yours and, um, the AI, or whatever. That’s got to be worth a mint, right?”
Hector was mid-slurp on some noodles, so he tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at her. He liked how she was thinking; paranoia was good in the harsh world they lived in. Still, she had a few things wrong. As he swallowed, he shook his head and said, “It’s all part of my engram.” He could have said more. For instance, he could explain that the system and the AI were one and the same. More than that, Hector and the system were wound together, utterly; there was no using his AI, his aura system without him. Those were a lot of words, though, so he just took another bite of chicken.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Couldn’t he, like, delete you?”
Hector swallowed and then grinned. “Not without deleting the system.”
“And if he plugged that chip into someone else, like himself?”
Hector shook his head. “I don’t like roommates.”
She giggled at something, probably a mental image of Hector ejecting Grando from his own skull, but then she scowled. “Hey! I’m your roommate!”
Hector smirked and took another bite. She stared at him for a few seconds, then stood and walked over to the fridge. While she rummaged for a drink, he finished wolfing down his food and tossed his containers into the recycler.
“You’re not going in this early, are you?”
Hector thought about it, then shook his head. “Gonna hit the gym.”
Lemon poured herself some juice—delivered the night before—and gave him a look, running her eyes up and down. “In those clothes?”
She was right; he was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved pullover shirt. “Just gonna see what’s up.”
“Well, I’m staying home; I’ll message Grando. The club’s gonna be dead in this weather.”
Hector started for the door, and then an idea hit him. “Gimme your contact info.”
“Oh! Good idea. I can write it on something—”
“Just say it.” Hector tapped his temple. “My AI will remember.”
“Oh, right. Okay, um, it’s Lemon with a capital L, star, star, seven, seven, seven at Magenta Palace.
Evie?
//I have it. Magenta Palace is a popular social networking hub in Heliopolis.//
Hector started for the door. “Got it.”
“What about you?”
“Don’t have one yet.” He slipped out into the hallway, and the door clicked shut behind him. On his way downstairs, he pulled the wadded-up scarf from his coat pocket and wrapped it around the lower half of his face. Outside, he was very thankful for the stolen garment. It wasn’t exactly raining, but, like the night before, the wind was wet with icy droplets. The sidewalks and train tracks were flowing with water, though—evidence of an earlier deluge.
He glanced at his mini-map to get his bearings, then stuffed his hands in his pockets and trudged along the path Evie had laid out for him. Her ETA said he’d reach the grocer in about nine minutes.
You remember anything about my last days? I’ve been racking my brain, but all I have are bits and pieces. I think I was with Esme in a cloakroom; it seems important, but…
//You know my data log isn’t as robust as your actual memories. I rely on your memories for details and hooks, so I’m afraid the corruption is going to affect us both. The conversation you’re referencing, the one where Esme tried to convince you to make your relationship more formal, was six months before the end of my data log, though. I don’t believe it was related to the coup.//
Damn. That means I’m missing a lot.
//Try to be patient. I’m still working on the corrupted data.//
What did I tell Esme?
//My data log indicates you refused to entertain the possibility of something more. I’m sorry, I don’t have more detail.//
Hector grunted, stretching his legs to pick up the pace. He had fooled around with Esme, but he’d always known she was using him—or so he’d thought. Why can’t I remember the damn conversation? As always, Evie knew when he was talking to himself, so she didn’t try to guess. Still, it was a hell of a nice way to be used. He let his mind drift over more distant memories—their first flirtation, and later, her excuse to visit his quarters…
After several minutes of indulgent reminiscing, Hector made himself shut the memories down. All he was doing was torturing himself, and none of it felt right. Esme was dead, and according to history, he was to blame. Sudden guilt washed over him, and he clenched his hands into fists. He needed to find some answers.
One thing he was sure of: royals lived a long time, in one skin or many, but they didn’t tend to die outside of combat, murder, or terrible accidents. That meant that whoever had killed the Contis, whoever had framed him, was probably still out there, and he’d have some damn answers, no matter what he had to do.
With crimson thoughts of vengeance heating his blood, he made good time to the grocer, only to find it wasn’t yet open. “Dammit,” he grunted, looking at the closed sign as he approached.
Evie?
//Five minutes.//
Hector glanced at his clock. It was closing in on seven. He crossed the street, hopping some tracks, and then stood outside the corner store with his hands in his pockets, looking left and right, wondering if he’d get jumped again before he got to the gym. Part of him hoped so. Nobody was out walking, but he saw people sitting in the trains that went by.
After a while, the door rattled, and he turned to see a stoop-shouldered old man with white hair working to unlock it. The lights were still dim inside, but he thought maybe it was a little brighter than earlier. Maybe he doesn’t like bright lights in the morning. The bolt finally thunked into its housing, and the man pushed the door open.
“Early and cold. Come in.” His voice was raspy, and he hardly looked at Hector before turning to shuffle back to the counter.
“Looking for a vending machine to buy net access.”
The clerk lifted a bony arm and pointed to his right, past a row of canned protein pastes and colorfully packaged chips. Hector looked to see a row of machines, one of which had a brightly flashing yellow sun on its plastic housing. He walked toward it and saw the crystal-glass display flashing with a sales pitch: SOL-TERMINAL! LIGHT UP YOUR LIFE—GET ONLINE NOW.
He walked up to the machine, tapped the glass, and read the menu:
- CONNECT FOR FREE – LIMITED TO HELIOS CITY NET – Please be respectful of people waiting to use the terminal
- PURCHASE PREMIUM ACCESS
Hector touched the second option and then went through the menu until he’d made an account, selecting an “intermittent” purchase plan. He bought a thousand minutes for 250 bits.
Okay, Evie, you’ve got access. Start digging into the Night of Gray Phage and find everything you can about the people involved. I want some theories about possible culprits—not me!—and probability reports on avenues for investigation.
//I’ll begin working, but I’ll need to request data packets from Ganymede and Earth. You’ll need an Imperial bit-vault to pay for those, which requires an ID, and—//
Hector growled in frustration. Just do what you can with the Mars data for now. Use archived packets.
//Understood.//
Before leaving the little store, he bought a large coffee, thinking it would warm his hands and his insides while he walked to Pete’s. He was partially right, except for the fact that while he held it, his hand couldn’t be in his pocket, and his knuckles were like ice cubes by the time the inviting yellow glow of the gym’s bay door came into view.
Approaching, he crumpled up his coffee cup and tossed it into a waste bin, peering through the open doorway. Despite the cold and the early hour, there were ten or twelve people inside. Some were sparring on the mats, but most were silently working out with the weights toward the back. Hector liked the morning atmosphere—a stark contrast to the afternoons. No noisy crowds filled the space, and people were focused on their workouts. Even the music was low, which reminded Hector of something.
Evie, can you find me some music?
//Something new or something from your old life?//
Challenge yourself. Something new, but familiar.
While his AI worked on the task he’d given her, Hector shrugged out of his coat and walked through the billowing wash of hot air into the gym. He might not be dressed for it, but he wanted to get a workout in.