its
way along the tube toward his veins. He tasted the faint tang of metal on his
tongue, just as he had then. It had been a terrifying choice, but it had been
his. In some ways, he’d have preferred the cancer he’d beaten to the disease
that replaced it. At forty-five, the Alzheimer’s was early onset, no cure.
Faced with the specter of allowing it to slowly steal away his mind – his very
self – he’d chosen stasis.
Stuart was watching him, and
Jason realized he’d been silent too long.
“Hey, well I guess you’re busy,”
Stuart said. “I gotta get to my next class anyway. See you later?”
Jason nodded. “Later.”
Forcing himself to relax, he took
a moment to collect himself, reminded why he was here. Now that it was safe to
look again, he touched a couple of controls to pull up the matching script. The
message he saw displayed was familiar:
Matching Records
Found: 0
I’ve still got
time, he
told himself. I just hope it’s enough.
Chapter
7 ∞ Rain
A digital keening stabbed at
Jason’s ears, repetitive and insistent. He fumbled for the snooze on his AP
before scraping together enough consciousness to realize he’d already hit it
three times. Or was it four? Checking the time, he let his head fall back
against the pillow with a sigh, then shuffled across the chill floor to his
desk.
He’d stayed late at the lab,
feeding neuromaps into Arkive’s AI until he’d exhausted the entire data block,
and this morning he had an early meeting with Alex at Java 101. A week had
passed since their last meeting, and the hacker had messaged him with news of more
SLIDe data. But first, he needed to check the script still churning through the
bioprints from last week. Part of him wondered if the effort was wasted now.
His access to the Arkive data in the lab would be a more likely route to
Michelle. If he could find her biorecord, Chrysalis could just continue her. But
he couldn’t discount the possibility this mysterious second group – this
Viceroy – might have already done that. So he’d kept his older search scripts
running against Alex’s SLIDe data to cover the bases.
He waved a hand, and the desk’s
photoscreen came to life, the display hovering in the air above the clutter of
photonics, and empty soda containers. He flopped down in a swivel chair, still
rubbing sleep from his eyes.
Then he bolted to his feet,
instantly awake.
The chair toppled to the floor
behind him with a crash, but he scarcely noticed. He leaned close to make sure
he hadn’t imagined the output.
Matching Records
Found: 1
Target Match
Probability: 71%
Source SLIDe ID:
3420-238477
The photonics and soda containers
flew onto the floor as he swept them aside to make space. A hit? Goosebumps
rolled across his skin in waves, and his hands trembled as he clicked into the
details. A hit! The scan with the matching sample was recent – just over
a week old. He didn’t recognize SLIDe prefix, so it must have come from one of Alex’s
newer feeds.
The SLIDe! Jason cursed as
he realized he’d been so focused on searching through the data that he’d
neglected to give any thought to what he’d do if he actually found something. He
had the SLIDe number, but Alex was the only one with the physical location for
each ID – the only one who could tell Jason where this one was.
Jason pounded a fist on the desk.
He picked up his AP to message Alex, hoping to catch him in time. Before he
could, the door opened behind him.
“I wondered what all the racket
was about,” Stuart said, leaning against the door frame. He was shirtless, and
from his disheveled hair, he’d just gotten out of bed too. From the annoyed
look on his face, the noise might have had something to do with it. “Are you in
here measuring yourself again?”
“What?”
Stuart eyed the overturned chair
and the mess on the floor. “Well, you seem a little frustrated, so I thought
maybe you were measuring…”
“No.” Jason gave him a
way along the tube toward his veins. He tasted the faint tang of metal on his
tongue, just as he had then. It had been a terrifying choice, but it had been
his. In some ways, he’d have preferred the cancer he’d beaten to the disease
that replaced it. At forty-five, the Alzheimer’s was early onset, no cure.
Faced with the specter of allowing it to slowly steal away his mind – his very
self – he’d chosen stasis.
Stuart was watching him, and
Jason realized he’d been silent too long.
“Hey, well I guess you’re busy,”
Stuart said. “I gotta get to my next class anyway. See you later?”
Jason nodded. “Later.”
Forcing himself to relax, he took
a moment to collect himself, reminded why he was here. Now that it was safe to
look again, he touched a couple of controls to pull up the matching script. The
message he saw displayed was familiar:
Matching Records
Found: 0
I’ve still got
time, he
told himself. I just hope it’s enough.
Chapter
7 ∞ Rain
A digital keening stabbed at
Jason’s ears, repetitive and insistent. He fumbled for the snooze on his AP
before scraping together enough consciousness to realize he’d already hit it
three times. Or was it four? Checking the time, he let his head fall back
against the pillow with a sigh, then shuffled across the chill floor to his
desk.
He’d stayed late at the lab,
feeding neuromaps into Arkive’s AI until he’d exhausted the entire data block,
and this morning he had an early meeting with Alex at Java 101. A week had
passed since their last meeting, and the hacker had messaged him with news of more
SLIDe data. But first, he needed to check the script still churning through the
bioprints from last week. Part of him wondered if the effort was wasted now.
His access to the Arkive data in the lab would be a more likely route to
Michelle. If he could find her biorecord, Chrysalis could just continue her. But
he couldn’t discount the possibility this mysterious second group – this
Viceroy – might have already done that. So he’d kept his older search scripts
running against Alex’s SLIDe data to cover the bases.
He waved a hand, and the desk’s
photoscreen came to life, the display hovering in the air above the clutter of
photonics, and empty soda containers. He flopped down in a swivel chair, still
rubbing sleep from his eyes.
Then he bolted to his feet,
instantly awake.
The chair toppled to the floor
behind him with a crash, but he scarcely noticed. He leaned close to make sure
he hadn’t imagined the output.
Matching Records
Found: 1
Target Match
Probability: 71%
Source SLIDe ID:
3420-238477
The photonics and soda containers
flew onto the floor as he swept them aside to make space. A hit? Goosebumps
rolled across his skin in waves, and his hands trembled as he clicked into the
details. A hit! The scan with the matching sample was recent – just over
a week old. He didn’t recognize SLIDe prefix, so it must have come from one of Alex’s
newer feeds.
The SLIDe! Jason cursed as
he realized he’d been so focused on searching through the data that he’d
neglected to give any thought to what he’d do if he actually found something. He
had the SLIDe number, but Alex was the only one with the physical location for
each ID – the only one who could tell Jason where this one was.
Jason pounded a fist on the desk.
He picked up his AP to message Alex, hoping to catch him in time. Before he
could, the door opened behind him.
“I wondered what all the racket
was about,” Stuart said, leaning against the door frame. He was shirtless, and
from his disheveled hair, he’d just gotten out of bed too. From the annoyed
look on his face, the noise might have had something to do with it. “Are you in
here measuring yourself again?”
“What?”
Stuart eyed the overturned chair
and the mess on the floor. “Well, you seem a little frustrated, so I thought
maybe you were measuring…”
“No.” Jason gave him a
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