Chapter 9
The only thing Blake knew about this meeting was that it came from a department he knew about only in whispers and rumours. Osiris was a covert operation that occasionally contacted the department for information. They never said what they wanted it for, and there never seemed to be any links to the information. Blake should know, he made the last six months of his life a second job to piece together what they were up to. It was obviously tied to the meeting he had a week earlier with the UTF guys.
It appeared as though someone was paying attention. He was called for an aptitude and fitness test by Osiris, directed by his chief who knew little more than to send him to Camp Trinity for three days. The testing seemed mediocre at best, but Blake figured that was part of it, to make the other eleven men feel as relaxed as he was. Regardless, he blitzed every test put to him, and had a feeling he may have missed the point.
Apparently not, he got a letter this morning advising to go to 468 Locksley Drive immediately, and not discuss it with his co-workers or management. Arriving at 468, he wasn’t sure he was at the right place. “Universal Shipping & Cartage” was hardly the placard he expected to see on the entry. He walked in, passed the letter he received to the receptionist, who politely asked him to take a seat.
Soon after, a young, rather striking woman came through and took him to the lift. Once they got in, she stood facing a blank wall opposite the lift controls. Three faint red glows appeared from the wall, and scanned her eyes and her open palm, all without her touching a thing. The lift began moving, and the floor-indicator turned off.
As the detective entered the squad room, he felt like a rookie all over again. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what he was doing, far from it. It was more the surreal sense of awe at the high-tech facilities around him. He recognised almost half of the equipment placed around the room in a seemingly random fashion, but much of the equipment was so alien to him, it appeared as though it may have actually come from another planet.
Walking out of the elevator, the expansive room in front of him had a natural look, courtesy of the bio-lights on the ceiling, giving the place an ‘open’ feel. There were scatterings of desks amongst the plants, and holo-tanks with all kinds of exotic fish.
There seemed to be two types of people in the office, those in clean-cut suits that were more-or-less standing around chatting, and those in more casual street clothing that were usually at workstations using Wave screens or old-school computers. Blake later found out that although the Waves left conventional computers for dead in pure power, some networks were encrypted to not allow access to Waves by identification, which suited underworld activity.
As Blake looked around, he sensed a feeling of calmness about the place. This was obviously an illusion, as it was the highest performing policing unit in the country, and possibly the world. This was, of course, courtesy of the rumours spreading with furious intensity about Osiris. Nonetheless, it seemed as though things were running themselves.
“Welcome to Osiris, Blake. I’m Jules Oricks, but the team just call me Ox.”
As Blake turned to the voice he saw a tall, solid Caucasian man, built like the Ox in his nickname, no coincidence. Jules Oricks was the leader of the team, and Blake knew him from the photo that was in the very brief and cryptic profile in his acknowledgement letter.
“Admiring the scenery I see. Believe me, sometimes I’m not sure if all of this tech is real, or just props for a movie shoot.”
Jules was being modest, he had developed much of the technology, and single-handedly took down more runners than any other agent, and a few Alphas to go with it.
“A lot of the tech we have is beyond the military,” he said, with a proud grin. “We give them the crap we don’t need.” He followed his quip with a hearty laugh.
“It does look nice and shiny. Can’t wait to get up to speed, sir”
“There will be time for that. First, come to my office so I can give you the ten minute intro, and then we’ll meet the rest of the team”
“Tell me, it seems as though everyone is rather chilled-out, but that’s not what I came to expect arriving this morning.”
“Two things, first we’re ending an operation and I expect the team will wind-back for an hour or two. Second, our resident psych spent almost two of my first-year budget designing and building this place into the most effective working environment on the planet. The last thing any of my operatives think about when they arrive in the morning is if the lights will give them a headache today.”
As they neared the end of the main space, they moved into a short corridor. Jules raised his hand slightly and Blake stopped. A smooth generic female voice asked them to remain still for ten seconds.
At the end of the time, the voice said, “Good morning Jules, you have Blake Corten with you, he presently is armed with a 9mm Colt Special fully loaded but uncocked with safety on, and a small blade on his right calf.”
“Thank you I.P,” said Jules as he started to move toward the end wall.
“I.P.?”
“Investigation and Protection. When I’m out for any length of time she kicks in. If I said anything but that phrase, without any change in my heart-rate, blood pressure, or brain signal activity, you’d have been toasted with gamma rays before you took another step.”
“Thanks for the heads up boss.” Blake looked wearily around the walls that seemed to harbour nothing but paint and tiles.
Ox stepped up to the end wall and stopped again. Blake heard a clicking sound which Ox explained was the same unit now scanning his retina and hand prints (even though he didn’t touch anything), in case he was forced through the first screening then disabled. Nothing like a bit of personal security to feel easy at work, Blake thought to himself.
The interior of the office was smaller than Blake expected. The walls were white but scattered with holo-tanks, the floor having plush beige carpet, and the ceiling again awash with bio-lights. Nothing looked over the top, but at the same time, didn’t look like the interior of the average Commander’s office. Well, none he had seen anyway.
As they sat, Ox handed Blake a drink that Blake later found out to contain an organic tracking system that tagged itself to his liver. The substance had zero effect on the human body, and dissolved after around a week.
“Osiris is the ancient god of the underworld and death. So it is a fitting name for our group. We operate in the areas of society that many people don’t know about, and most of those that do, wish they didn’t. Our only objective is to stop Autohacking, by any means necessary. We are not vigilantes, but not all of the usual law-enforcement rules apply to us, as you will learn.” He paused to take a small drink.
“You see, the activity of Autohacking has been allowed to thrive for two main reasons. First, those that sponsor the activity did a good job of keeping their actions under the radar for a long time. It’s only recently that we’ve began working out how to separate the crimes associated with Autohacking from the other general crime. Second, those that sponsor Autohacking are also the most well-connected, wealthiest people on this side of the country.”
Ox paused to let the information soak in, and hopefully for Blake to be interested to know more, and not fall asleep. Ox was hardly a great orator, he usually preferred to let action speak for him. Unfortunately those days were behind him, and he had a decade or so behind the desk before he left the UTF altogether.
“Time to bring you up to speed with why I really got you here, Blake.”
Blake interrupted sounding upset at the suggestion he had been duped, “Sir, I got in because I scored highest on all of the tests.”
“Rubbish, Blake. You got in because I looked into your history, and you’re the only applicant that doesn’t somehow tie back to those twat Alphas. Cold, hard truth right there!”
Blake got up, his face fuming red, and turned to leave the office. This may have been the top level of promotion for him, but he’
d be blown if he would get sucked into being their bitch, which was one of the most fierce rumours going around about recruitment.
“Hold it right there soldier. Turn your arse around and sit down now. Let me finish, then if you’re still intent on your little pissy-fit, you can go!”
Blake stopped, looked at Jules’s face, and saw the slightest smile at the corners of his mouth. “Two minutes, and it better be good.”
“So, where was I? Ahh, yes, your selection. You see Blake, whether you are aware or not, the Alphas make up about half of one percent of the population in the area, but have some influence over ninety-eight percent of the rest. Now I’m not saying everyone is a crook, but, everyone does have a soft-point somewhere, and these people know how to exploit it. Whether it’s money, drugs, politics, fame, or any other temptation you can think of, they can make it happen.
“You’re an ex-Marine, I’ve read your file, and you were a damned good one. You never required disciplinary action, and considering the group you were with, that’s a minor miracle in itself. You are not from this area, so there is little chance you or anyone you are related to will have a history with the Alphas.
“And last, but not least, out of all of the tests you have done over the last week, the one that counted the most for me, was that my psychologist says you have just the right mix of courage, compassion and arrogance to bring you to the top of this assignment.”
At that moment there was a knock on the door behind Blake. “It’s Sophie,” followed a soft yet assertive voice.
“Come in,” replied Jules.
As the door opened, Blake looked around to see two very long legs come through the door, followed by the body of Sophie Alexander, the team psychologist.
“Ahh Sophie, speak of the Devil. Perfect timing.” Jules offered his hand to the empty chair adjacent to Blake.
“Jules, I’ve told you many times, I’m not the Devil, contrary to what your team may say.” A subtle smile came to her face, and a raised eyebrow suggesting there may be something hidden in what she said.
“Well my friend, you do shrink heads better than any South American tribe ever did, so you can’t blame them for thinking there is some voodoo in that giant noggin of yours.”
“You’re saying I have a big head Jules?”
“Aw crap Sophie, you know what —” his sentence broken by an almost girlish giggle from Sophie. “Dammit Soph!”
The two of them looked at each other for a moment. Blake could see there was a genuine admiration for each other, and he wasn’t so sure it was all professional. Jules glanced towards Blake. “Anyway, unfortunately Mr Corten will not be joining our team. It seems he feels hard done by and would prefer to pursue other avenues of employment”
Blake interrupted, “Hang on Jules, perhaps I was a little rash in my decision earlier. If I leave here, where am I going to go, this is the peak of high-tech law enforcement in the country. As you reminded me.”
Jules looked over to Sophie and gave her a nod. She began. “Blake, what you need to understand about Jules’s little speech before, is that it was all nonsense. Professionally speaking of course. We need people on this team that can leave their ego at the door. Anyone who works in this building, as far as their wives, friends and local store owners know, has an administration job with the cold-case division of a local PD. We’re not about egos and bragging, we’re about removing Autohacking, and any criminal organisation related to it.”
“You’ve heard Jules’s story, the culture is deeply embedded in this society, and is responsible for a great majority of all crime committed, one way or another. These are bad buggers, as Jules would put it. Anyone on this team is for the team, first and foremost. You will get no credit outside of this agency, and you should not expect any.”
Sophie sat back and said nothing. Although it had only been a few minutes, Blake had the feeling he was already in far deeper than most others would dare, the rabbit hole was indeed causing the tumbling nerves swelling in his gut.
“If you’re in, one of our techs will give you a few tests and jabs. Get you on board and through screening.”
There was a moment of silence, and Blake looked at Sophie, then Ox. “Yeah, I’m in.”
Ox called up the tech on the comm, and a few seconds later a tall woman in a lab coat came into the room. With Ox nodding Blake in her direction, he got up, smiled at Ox and Sophie, and left with the tech.
There were a number of basic tests that were carried out. Nothing psychological, but he felt pretty naked by the time they finished pulling apart the last few years of his social and private life, all the while making notes and jabbing him with various needles. Blake was itching his arm where they gave him a radiation tracer to check his vital organs.
“Don’t worry, Blake,” said Jules, “the itching will go away. It’s just your bio-locator getting settled into your nervous system.”
“What the hell is a bio-locator, and what did you put it in my arm for?”
“Standard issue tech for all operatives. It sends reports of your location, heart rate, core temp etcetera. Just so we know you’re ok, of course.”
“Sounds like something from a cheesy sci-fi ’80s movie.”
“Hey, you’d be surprised what good ideas those Hollywood guys come up with. Some of them aren’t too hard to make.”
“Well, I guess I should be happy your bunch of crack-pots don’t watch Looney Tunes.”
“Tried that, could never get the Acme Rocket Shoes to work properly.”
“Now that you’re finished taking the piss, is there anything else you’re going to stick in me?” Blake said with a scowl. “I didn’t bring my KY.”
“Now, now, son, don’t let it get to you. We all go through it. You have to understand, now that you’re part of the team, you belong to us. But also remember, we’re one team, one people. You may have been in the Marines, where honour is everything.”
“Semper Phi.”
“Well here, it goes deeper than that. The people behind you really are your blood. They will do everything in their considerable power to help you do your job. Part of that is to know exactly what is happening with your body.”
“And in my spare time?”
“Everyone clocks out at the end of the day, or mission. We tracked members 24/7 at first, I’ll admit that to you now. All it did was give us a whole heap of extra admin time, and our ops a whole lot of extra stress.”
Jules leaned over his desk, looking Blake in the eye with a sincerity that seemed to burn his words into Blake's mind. “I don’t care what you do out of hours, as long as you ain’t breaking the law. Get drunk, meet hookers, play poker, whatever. But, do any of that junk on shift, and it’s your ass. We clear?”
“Yes sir.”
“Right then. Ms. Alexander is waiting for you in her office. Go and get yourself signed-in, and I’ll see you at oh-six-hundred tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, sir. But, you and Ms. Alexander?”
“Respect each other as professionals and people. Good day, Blake”
That night Blake didn’t have Holly over. He explained that he had a major case underway and he needed to focus. She sounded concerned and wanted to know if their last conversation had made him nervous, but he quickly dismissed that and told her his feelings for her were growing ever stronger, but he had to deal with this case.
The next morning he arrived at his new office at 5:55 am exactly. Ox was standing at the front door waiting for him. “Morning Blake, you’re only five minutes early, that hooker of yours keep you up all night?”
“Dammit, does anyone not know about this?”
“Ha ha, don’t worry about it Blake, just winding you up. I’ve had my fair share of ‘unconventional’ relationships, don’t sweat it.”
“Well, I think it’s going further than just a business arrangement now.”
“That’s up to you to sort, son. Just remember, this assignment is your mist
ress, you are now part of a family that needs you, so don’t lose focus.”
“Not a chance,” Blake responded without hesitation.
“Good. Now, before we go in and our day goes on record, I need to tell you that I think we have a mole. It’s part of why you’re here. We need to look around, find out what’s happening and where the information is leaking.”
“How do you know this?”
“I don’t, but we’ve had a few missions go sideways lately, and we’re usually a ten out of ten team, know what I mean?”
“Yeah I do. What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing yet. Just be aware. We’ll talk more later.”
“Anyone else in on this?”
“Sophie. She was the one who has put this all together. She’s started screening the team, but we don’t get a lot from them either way, they’re trained to be spooks, so they’re hard nuts to crack. We’re hoping you might have a fresh angle.”
The two of them walked into the lift. As they opened on to the main floor, there were a few people buzzing around but not a lot of activity. Everyone seemed to be getting started for the day. He still wasn’t sure how the ‘office’ functioned. There wasn’t any clear division between the techies and operatives, back-of-house and on-line, it was all a mash. Ox was running through a few of the standard procedures, but Blake was only half there, wondering for the first time how Holly was. Something Ox said caught his attention.
“Back up boss, what was that you just said?”
“This unit over here is where we track individuals. Anyone with current bio-locators, comms devices or other registered techs will be able to be located.”
“So why can’t you just use that to find all of the bad guys.”
“Because most of them use hacked gear and have low-jacked any transponders or other devices applied during incarceration. There is also some other emerging tech that will make a lot of what we use redundant.”
“Biotronics?”
“Exactly. This really is the panacea of technology, Blake, hence our concern about groups like the Wing’Tan being in on the action. We need to find out how they are operating and who’s backing them. Fast.”
“Why the sudden urgency? Wing’Tan has been around for years.”
“Yes, but they’ve always relied on ties to higher groups and supporters. At first it was passive, Autohacking being more of a one-way street in favour of Alphas predominantly. But now they’ve formed more solid alliances with a few, and we can’t let that go to the next level.”
“You mean them surpassing the Alphas? How could they do that?”
“Biotronics is a tech that if developed to its potential, could become a bartering tool for entire governments. Think about the nuclear arms race. First America bombed Japan, and everyone laid down their guns, but soon after other countries developed the weapons too. Now there are three major super-powers left if you count anyone who has verified nuclear weapons. They have been used a few times but always stopped before all-out war. Thankfully it’s only the odd Despot that is stupid enough to use them.”
“But in reality because of them, everyone is reminded they can be used, so people are more weary of messing with countries that have them.”
“That’s right. So fast forward to a few years from now, Biotronics are fully developed, and whoever has it first does a few test runs. Say they fit the tech to artificial organs, then remotely shut them all off at once, killing thousands. Or develop an interface to merge them with electronic systems and take over an entire energy grid causing it to black out.”
“You’re talking about terrorism.”
“No, I’m talking about marketing. If someone can do that to another country, what price would be paid to level the playing field? After the first nuke went off, it was only ten years before the US and Russia had enough arsenal to destroy every human on the planet. Who know how fast Biotronics will evolve?”
Blake pondered the idea for a moment. “Daaaaamn, it could go supernova for all we know and take over the planet.” Blake gave a laugh that quickly stopped as he saw Ox staring at him with a straight face.
“Correct.”
“Jesus, I was only joking.”
“But what if you’re right? Our government isn’t perfect, far from it. But, I trust the government more than I trust a bunch of trigger-happy street thugs.”
“Amen to that.”
Blake looked around, there were now quite a few people around the place. Ox introduced him to them as they walked around. Most of them were introduced by their nick-name, and they were wide and varied. Lucky Blake had a photographic memory (a welcome side effect of his enhancement). When they got to the end of the room, Ox took him to a briefing room, shortly after, a half dozen other people came into the room.
Ox took the head at the table, which was donut shaped with a holo-imager in the centre. One seat at the other end remained empty, but when the lights dimmed, a holo appeared there. It was a woman who was rather striking, shame she wasn’t there; Blake couldn’t see her legs.
For the benefit of Blake, Ox went around the table introducing everyone by name, title and position in the team. There were two techies, Wrench and Sunday, both responsible for writing most of the code that grew into the universal link that superseded the internet.
Alex the Kid was a glorified hustler, as he described himself. The truth was, he was a procurement and resource facilitator, basically getting the street team the weapons, tech and ID they would need for any given op. He looked about twelve years old, which is obviously where he got his nickname.
Whip was to be Blake’s partner on the street. Whip was about six foot tall by the look of him. He was well dressed, and although not ‘staunch’ in his posture, certainly projected a confidence in his stance that suggested he could handle himself. Blake was beginning to think that would come in very handy soon.
Trina, the holo at the end of the room, was a ‘community liaison’, worked at a local half-way house, and had her finger on the pulse when it came to what was happening on the street. Ox had advised Blake that she was fairly new to the fold, and wouldn’t get all of the intel, but she was proving her worth with a few excellent tips that led to taking out a bunch of runners, including a Wing’Tan member. Unfortunately he wouldn’t talk, then committed suicide in custody before they could interrogate harder.
Ox handed the show to Alex who had a pair of Tappers on which started the holo-imager, bringing up a grid of the city. He explained the coloured areas represented heightened activity divided by Wing’Tan, other clans, or Fed activity. At first there seemed little correlation, but when he overlaid the areas with known bid-running routes and reported criminal activity, it was clear that the Feds were in the wrong part of town.
“The problem is, people,” said Ox, “is that we’ve been led down the garden path. The Wing’Tan especially have made a series of high-profile attacks and robberies away from the running routes. We’ve been so focussed on the parts of town where they threw these decoys, that the movement of key runners has almost been ignored.”
“We had no reason to worry about street runners, Ox.”
“That’s true Whip, but now we know Wing’Tan especially are starting to move high-tech items, and a few that have taken our attention at HQ. Whatever they’re doing, they don’t want too many of their runners picked up. In the past it was a numbers game and no matter how many illegals we took, there were more around the corner. Now they don’t want them caught, and they’re taking extreme measures to protect certain groups.”
“There has been more talk around the street of runners getting aggressively competitive for Wing’Tan work,” said Trina, adding her two cents worth. “Nothing too concrete yet, but there was even a bit of chatter that some runners were being brought directly on to the Wing’Tan payroll.”
“That’s concerning. Runners generally have fairly little means, and therefore not a lot of tech. It mak
es us easier to grab them if we need to. If Wing’Tan are sponsoring them directly now, it will make it harder for us to catch them. Thank you Trina, you can leave now.”
“OK Ox, good luck.” Trina’s upper body flickered for a minute, then disappeared.
Ox turned to the rest of the team, took his seat and leaned back.
“Now, we have some more details to go over. There are some things that may involve Trina.” Everybody looked up at Jules; he had their attention. “I don’t think she is quite the person she says she is.”