Re-Coil - J.T. Nicholas Page 0,75

and synced with the backup servers.” I winced a little bit at that. Partly because it meant if we did have to use the insurance policy, the memories, the experiences, of what we’d managed to find out on Mars would be lost. We could—and certainly would—include something with the physical cores to tell the proto-us what had gone down, but being told a thing and living a thing were not the same. But mostly, I winced because the fact that Genetechnic had enough access to our backup files to copy them at all was a violation of privacy, trust, and law on a level that hadn’t been seen since the twenty-first century. It wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to be able to happen. And yet, the woman spoke of it so casually that I started to wonder if their attempts to erase us were even their first forays into that shadowy territory.

From the sour look on Shay’s face, she saw it, too. Hell, she probably understood the ramifications far better than I did. But all she did was reach out and take the briefcase from the woman. “You have two hours,” the suit said. “We need you back here at that time to prepare for departure.”

Shay ignored her, instead reaching into a pocket. Korben, the suit, and the security that I could see on the periphery all tensed at that, but all she withdrew was a small network of wires. “We need a minute,” she said. “And the case.”

The suit nodded, passing the case over to Shay. Then she and Korben walked a few strides away. Shay turned the case flat and popped it open, revealing the pair of seemingly innocuous metal cubes, no more than a centimeter or so on a side, that somehow held everything that we were.

Shay didn’t waste time marveling at the technology. Instead, she thrust the case into my arms with a muttered, “Hold this, and be still.” I complied as best I could, acting as a makeshift table while Shay laid her network of wires and electrodes in place around the first cube. I couldn’t hear her and Bit, but I could tell from the glazed look in her eyes that she was in deep conversation with her agent. “Good,” she muttered, then repeated the process with the second cube. After a few minutes she nodded, folding her sensor array back into a neat bundle and slipping it into her pocket. “Everything seems to be in order,” she said.

I nodded and caught Korben’s eye. He and the suit strolled back to us. “Is everything satisfactory?” the woman asked with a knowing smile.

Shay just grunted.

“You have two hours,” the suit repeated. “At which point you need to be back here to prepare for departure.” The smile she offered had nothing to do with friendliness. “Our security specialists aren’t too fond of tardiness, so I suggest being on time.”

With that, she turned on one three-inch heel and walked away. “Well,” Korben said. “I suppose I’ll be off as well. Try not to get lost. I doubt we’ll leave without you, but you know how corporations are with their schedules.” With a parting wave that was little more than the undulation of his fingers, he, too, whirled on a foot and vanished deeper into the bowels of the building.

“What now?” I asked Shay. She was the one with the plan, after all.

“Follow me.” She put action to her words, heading toward the exit. We had drawn more than a few looks from the personnel in the lobby—and more than a little scrutiny from the security guards. Everyone seemed to relax a little as we moved outside. Did they know who we were? Were they complicit in the murder and worse that Genetechnic had been involved in? Or did we just look that dangerous to those leading a more pampered life? I couldn’t help a mental snort at that. Some things never changed. Even now, after all the years of progress, humans were still wired to make snap judgments and assessments based on looks alone. Because of the ability to switch coils, the more prosaic forms of bias—perceived race, ethnicity, and gender—had faded. On the other hand, the good old battles of class warfare were still being fought, and if you looked poor in a rich area, you were bound to draw additional scrutiny. To be fair, if you looked like one of the suits walking in and out of the Genetechnic corporate headquarters when you