
DIE,

MARTIAN

FATHER!
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

DIE, MARTIAN FATHER!

**First edition. March 23, 2020.**

Copyright (C) 2020 Jack Teng.

Written by Jack Teng.

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# Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Part 1 | Murder and aftermath

Chapter 1: A Martian Father

Chapter 2: The Suspect

Chapter 3: The Pious One

Chapter 4: The Blasphemous One

Chapter 5: On the run

Chapter 6: Hope in the darkest places

Chapter 7: Useless

Chapter 8: Scrambling for solutions

Chapter 9: Calm words

Chapter 10: An unexpected gathering

Part 2 | A week's "respite"

Chapter 11: Surprising visitors

Chapter 12: The betrothed

Chapter 13: The Party

Chapter 14: Memories and remembrances

Chapter 15: Like old times

Chapter 16: What just happened?

Chapter 17: A threatening proposal

Chapter 18: Are you prepared, Dimi?

Chapter 19: Are you prepared, Aly?

Chapter 20: Are you prepared, Ivan?

PART 3 | Denouement

NEWS UPDATE | DECANTED TERRORISTS DEFEATED! VAULT OF MINDS UNHARMED!

Chapter 21: Fraying edges

Chapter 22: Out of the action

Chapter 23: Inklings

Chapter 24: The Academic

Chapter 25: Participation is mandatory

Chapter 26: The Announcement

Chapter 27: An unpleasant conversation

Chapter 28: Into the Catacombs

Chapter 29: The fable

Chapter 30: The temptation

Chapter 31: The Enemy has returned

Epilogue

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_As always, for my lovely partner who always supports my wacky endeavors in spite of everything._

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# Part 1

# Murder and aftermath

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# Chapter 1: A Martian Father

On the night of his murder, Frank Mazer is sunken deep within his sensory recliner. He's reviewing his accounts. He does this at the end of every day, no matter how late the hour and no matter what debauchery he's emerged from. He's in his "den" - actually, it's the panic room he dug out from within his cavern-habitat and lined with titanium-steel. It's perhaps because of this he doesn't notice when the murderer slips into the room.

In his typical careless way, he's slung his input visor around his head. Sparkly flashes dance across the tops of his cheeks. His arms stick out like swollen antennae, waving and swaying, as his hands flick, grasp, and fondle the air. A distracted smile curls his lips. There's something inexplicably obscene about what he's doing - even though the data he's streaming is only numbers, names, and asset value projections. But defiling the mundane is what Frank does. It's only one of the many reasons his fellow Martians despise him.

To be clear, Frank really is reviewing his accounts and ledgers. In fact, if anyone asked, he'd leap from his recliner, grinning a mouthful of stained teeth, and welcome anyone - absolutely anyone, he'd declare with his bulbous chin jutting forward - to look at his simple, honest spreadsheets and graphs. He's an entrepreneur, he'd exclaim. A business man! The very embodiment of the celebrated Martian spirit to scratch and fight against the bone-gnaw of dust storms and the gene-burn of cosmic rays to not only survive, but to thrive!

This, of course, being Frank, is a grotesque version of the truth.

Certainly, none would deny he's been enterprising. The records of the Martian Unified Government show that he operates one of the largest networks of cavern-habitats. Certainly too - as Frank well knows - no one would deny there is nothing more important than ensuring humans will maintain their presence on the planet, waiting for the terraforming process to complete. Habitats are the backbone of Martian society, should it be within the sprawling city-domes on the plains of Hellas or in the networks of cavern-habitats deep within the Marineris Valley.

So on the face of it, Frank does appear to be the decent, even noble entrepreneur he claims to be. But only if he omits one significant detail: his tenants. His habitats exclusively house the Decanted, the clone population of Mars.

"Yeah? What do you know? I've been running habitats for ten years! What's your deal, huh? Don't you think those poor Decanted deserve homes too?" Frank mutters heatedly, sparring with his opponent with well-practiced outrage.

His opponent and his argument are fictitious. Oh, if he could, he would love to shock people in person and watch their horrified expressions in the flesh. But these days, notorious as he's become, he rarely gets the opportunity. Instead, he must content himself with imagining his public indecencies.

"Are you gene-prejudiced? That's it, isn't it! You are! Ha!" Frank growls. "Doesn't the Church of the Singularity say that Decanted consciousnesses are no different from ours? That their brainscans will be uploaded into the Great Infinity just the same?"

Oddly, he's right. Officially, all Decanted have full citizenship and the same rights and opportunities as any other genenorm citizen - but you'd never know it considering the menial jobs and systematic exclusion they endure. Indeed, Frank is among the few genenorms willing to openly interact with the Decanted, let alone house them.

"You hypocrites! Bet you call them 'deeks' to their faces, huh? Bet you do! Yeah! That's right! Run away! ...heh, heh..." Frank chuckles, thrumming his stubby fingers over his belly. "That was good. I should remember that one..."

As Frank shifts his mass and scratches his crotch, the murderer moves along the wall, carefully bypassing and deactivating the alarms. The temptation to strike must be hard to resist. The murderer is encased in a mecha-suit. Its streamlined design, covered in brownish-red hexagonal graphite plating, marks it as a military-grade model, almost certainly one with stealth insertion capabilities. It's capable of crushing Frank's windpipe in one gauntleted hand. But the murderer wisely does nothing. All precautions must be taken to avoid having the recliner's security clamshell deploy around Frank. Once that happens, nothing short of an antimatter shapecharge would be able to break him out.

A strident beeping fills the room.

The murderer, only three meters away, freezes and retreats into the shadows.

The house-com flickers on, rendering a scratchy holo-image as Frank tears off his visor.

"What! What do you want?" Frank yells in his guttural, mucous-choked voice. "Damn it! Don't you know I'm busy?"

"There's someone in the cavern entrance requesting to speak to you. They've come in person," the caller says in a surly voice.

The caller is a young woman in her late teens. She's pale and gaunt. Only her head appears in the image, and it's distinct in the typical Decanted way. Two symmetric skin discolorations, pale unpigmented white against a dark olive background, stretch across both sides of her face. They form a jagged arc from her forehead to just below her nose. By design, all Decanted share the same vitiligo skin condition.

"What the hell do I pay you for, Smiley? Chase them away! Tell them I'm not here!" Frank bellows to Smiley, his 'manservant.'

It amuses Frank to have his needs met by a human, even though it would be far more efficient to let M4ry, his household drone do it. It's the "sticky personal touch of flesh" that makes all the difference, he claims. But there may be another other reason why Frank keeps Smiley around.

The rumor is she's Frank's illegitimate child with a Decanted woman. Naturalistically, no less, without the aid of the fertility clinic. The very thought of it is outrageous and shocking. Frank has done little to quell the rumor. In any case, any attempt to disprove his paternity would be futile, as Frank's germline is so warped by radiation it would be impossible test.

"It's Captain Sam Niner," Smiley says.

"Captain! Ha! She's no captain."

"Former Captain Niner would like..."

"I'm telling you she's no Captain! She was a stupid cook during the war. That's all she was."

"Military support staff also have ranks."

"Pfffff! Whatever! So she's got the title. Big deal. But she didn't see combat. She's no real captain."

"Her unit was under fire in the battle of..."

"Shut your trap!"

Silence as Frank and Smiley glare at each other.

"What the hell does she want?"

"She wants to talk about being compensated for the work she did for you."

"I already paid!"

"She says you didn't pay what you agreed."

"Bullshit. She did shitty work. She didn't find what I asked her to. I paid her fairly."

"She doesn't agree. She said what you sent her to find doesn't exist."

"Who the fuck cares?"

"She says if you don't pay her for the work she's done, she's going to get her vatmates together and lodge a formal complaint. She says she'll take you to War Restoration Court and complain as a former service member."

This quiets Frank. The War Restoration Court was set up as an independent party to ensure peace in the Martian post-war era. It's been thirty years since the last battles of the Earth-Mars Planetary War of 2218, but the trauma and pain of it are never far away. The war was brutal. Many battlegrounds are still shrouded under radioactive haze and littered with fallen Martian titanomechs and the remains of terrifying Earther warmachines.

Frank scowls. "So the deek wants to threaten me, huh? She's trying to gang up on me and claim that her and vatmates will rise up in a deek uprising unless the court rules in their favor, eh?" He barks a short, wet laugh. "Let her. Tell her to go ahead and try. I know her vatmates. They're all Niners and Seveners, aren't they? Dumb-ass labor deeks. I have them on my list. They all owe me. If they don't, I can buy their Life Debt. Their families all live in my caves. You think they'll back her up when I hold their debts in my hands? Never. She's nothing. Tell her to fuck off."

"Yes, but..."

"What's wrong with you?!? Are you taking that deek's side now?" Frank screams hysterically. "You want to be with them? Fine! You go be with them. See what I care. See if they want a half-breed like you! You'll see. You'll come crawling back after they beat you to shit. Go on! You can get out of here!"

Smiley's expression is impossible to read.

"I'll tell her to leave."

"Yeah! You do that!" Frank yells again. "Do what I pay you for and don't bother me again! You're useless! I really should get rid of you! Get out of here and... WAIT! DON'T GO! WAIT!"

Smiley hadn't moved.

In a soft, pleading voice, Frank asks, "You called Greta, right? You told her everything? She got my message?"

Smiley nods. "I called her. I told her everything you told me to. She said she got your message so there was no need for me to call her."

"Idiot! That's not the point of calling her!" Frank thrusts an arm into Smiley's image. It would have been a slap had she been there in person. "I want you to tell me her reaction! Did it seem like she understood how many credits I have? How much cash I've stashed away? We'd be set for life and I have even more money coming my way! Was she thinking about that? Was she?"

"I couldn't tell," Smiley shrugs, and before Frank can say anything, she says, "She was asking about Dimi."

Frank's eyes bulge. He goes so far as to lift himself up on his elbows as he roars, "Dimi! That bitch! I'm not going to let her win. She's not going to get Greta! She's mine! Fuck Dimi! Why doesn't she just stay with her fucking fiance? That bitch Katy LeoAng is certified geneperfect! Why doesn't she stick with her instead of trying to steal what's mine?"

Properly riled, he sits up, his arms flailing. "Greta won't go for Dimi! She's got nothing! I know she doesn't! I've got it all! Everything!" He laughs. "The Church, the government, they know I got them! I've got those fucking bastards by their stinking balls! They'll pay up! I'll be the richest bastard on Mars! If Greta's with me, then she'll be set too!"

Smiley shrugs again. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes! You imbecile! Yes, there is!" Frank's head is practically within Smiley's image, causing it to flicker and blur as his spittle explodes into it. "Did you tell Greta that she can come here any time?"

"Yes."

"Did you tell her that she doesn't need to go through security?"

"Yes."

"That she's coded into the system already?"

"Yes."

"That she's even allowed to come into my den?"

"Yes."

"She doesn't need to ping me! Just show up!"

"Yes. I told her all this."

"I'm a successful entrepreneur! I'm not like that useless broke bitch, Dimi!" Frank pounds his fists against the recliner. "I'm the most logical choice! Not Dimi! Not her! I'm the successful one! Why would she want Dimi over me?"

Smiley frowns. "You didn't tell me to ask her that. Did you want me to call her again and ask?"

"Moron! Fuck off!" Frank curses, and with a wave, closes the connection. The murderer takes the opportunity to step closer to Frank, returning to a mere three meters away.

Frank continues grumbling to himself. It's a variation of his oft repeated refrain that no one respects him, that no one sees the skills he really has, that he'll show them, he'll show everyone how brilliant and rich and clever he is, and then they'll regret making fun of him and talking behind his back, and he'll make each of them pay, and he could too, because he's been keeping lists of everyone. They'll see.

It's unfortunately impossible to deny Frank has been impressively successful in his enterprises. Over the last two decades, he's accumulated a respectable wealth. Only part of it comes from the income from the run-down cavern complexes he fills with unfortunate Decanted. The other part, the main part, comes from his "genius" in becoming one of the Decanted's premier loan sharks. Those simple, honest spreadsheets? They were his long lists of debtors, the amount they owe, and the exorbitant interest rates he's charging them.

After the war, despite the Decanted's crucial role in fighting the Earthers, few banks were willing to extend them any loans. They'd been granted their freedom and full Martian citizenship for their service, but because they still had their Life Debt to pay off - that is, the amount they owed for the base materials and energy used in their creation - lenders knew it would be unlikely their money would be repaid.

But Frank saw an opportunity. He realized that the Decanted's true value came not from their money, but from their ability to work. Once they owed him enough or, more preferably, once they offered up their Life Debts as collateral, he owned them. Feeding off their desperation, he soon gathered a heavily indebted workforce that he could force to do anything, from working the fluorine mines or to mecha assembly lines or, of course, to the orgies Frank liked to organize.

"Ah, Greta, my darling, my love. I know you'll see reason. You'll come to me eventually," Frank says, reaching over to an alcove to fondle a light-sculpted display of a smiling woman.

The woman is in her early twenties and wearing the type of standard dark grey leotard that's worn within utility-mechas. Her complexion is brownish-auburn, and beneath both eyes are twin patches of unpigmented skin that meet over her nose. A Decanted. At first glance, she seems lanky and thin, but a closer look reveals well-developed and well-toned muscles.

Frank hoists himself off the recliner. He's horribly naked. He's also only one step away from being out of the security clamshell's protection. The murderer waits.

As with everything that comes out of his mouth, it's hard to tell if Frank means what he says. Greta may be his "darling love" today, but tomorrow or in a month, he could easily move on to some fresh obsession. Even harder to believe is his promise to share his money with her. Frank is known by all to be stingy. For a long time, he pretended to be poor, walking around in battered clothing and faulty pressure suits. It's an act that fooled even his children who succumbed to his whining and for many years grudgingly gave him a portion of their salaries.

Oh, yes. It may be hard to believe, but Frank does have children. Three of them. Legally recognized ones and produced by the fertility clinic. He had them with a spouse who willingly married him. Incredible, but true. Sadly, no one can ask her why she did it, as she fled and disappeared shortly after giving birth to their children, one after the other over the span of three years. One girl and two boys. No one is sure who she is since her records were wiped - by herself or Frank, no one is sure of that either. But people say she must have been from a decent family, as the children that the fertility clinic gene-mixed for them turned out to be intelligent and attractive.

Now in their late twenties, the children have endeavored to live as separately as they can from their father. The youngest is a novitiate in the Church of the Singularity, and has been serving for the last two years. His name is Aly. The middle child was once a promising academic at the University of Olympus Mons. He quit a few months ago for unknown reasons, and has joined the officially sanctioned, barely tolerated Non-Singularist movement. His name is Ivan. And the eldest, known as the wildest and most unpredictable one, is a former lieutenant in the Martian Mecha Assault forces, discharged over year ago. Her name is Dimi.

This Dimi, Frank's daughter, is the same Dimi that Frank was decrying when he was asking Smiley about Greta. That's right, father and daughter are competing for the affections of the same woman. No surprise this rivalry has scandalized all Martian society. But Dimi has done something shocking of her own in pursuing Greta. Because Dimi is betrothed to Katy LeoAng, a member of one of the most celebrated families on Mars. For reasons unknown, Dimi has chosen to forsake this great honor.

"What the fuck?!?"

Frank cries out with his back against the wall. He'd been rummaging around for his clothes when he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He'd spun around. He may have briefly deluded himself it was Greta who had snuck in. Instead, he was faced by the murderer in the mecha-suit.

He presses his back as far back against the wall as he can. Any further and he'd be in his alcove. The thought crossed his mind. But even if he would try, he would find no room. There's scant free space amidst the piles of precious metals, stacks of burner-chips, and illegal Earther artifacts that he's collected and stuffed in there for safe keeping.

His eyes are wild as he sees he is no longer in range of his security clamshell. His only salvation is to set off the house alarm, but...

"Fuck! Why isn't it working?" Frank screams.

...the house alarm has been disabled.

Frank's eyes widen. Still the murderer makes no movement, seemingly content to watch Frank stew in his terror. He makes for a pathetic sight. His body, already grotesquely distended by slap-dash body-mods and cheap skin grafts, is glistening with sweat. His normally dark olive skin is splotchy with reddish patches spreading over face and his heaving chest. The murderer should be thankful the mecha-suit is completely sealed, as the reek of Frank's fear fills the room.

To his credit, Frank doesn't plead for his life. Instead, in an act of defiance that likely surprises himself, he reaches over to the alcove, grabs the first things that land in his hand, and starts throwing them.

"Help! Somebody help! Smiley! Goddamn it! Where are you!" Frank screams, hurling a handful of platinum ingots. When that has no effect, he throws a series of dusty knick-knacks and weirdly shaped objects. They're Earther artifacts, and they too plunk harmlessly against the murderer's mecha-suit.

The murderer takes a step forward, but pauses when Frank cries out,

"Wait! Why are you doing this? We had a deal! Stop!"

But the murderer resumes reaching out, causing him to cry again,

"Fuck! Who are you then?"

He narrows his eyes.

"You! Dimi!"

The murderer freezes.

"Bitch! You fucking asswipe useless mother fucker!" Franks screams. "This changes nothing, Dimi! You'll never have Greta! She'll never love you because you have nothing! Greta is mine! You'll never... arggl!"

Frank's throat is clamped within the mecha-suit's gauntleted hand. He continues to struggle, but all he can do is wriggle his limbs like a short-circuiting drone. In one violent motion, he's thrust against the wall. His eyes loll to the back of his head. When they return, the murderer has raised a hand to show Frank a hypodermic syringe. It's filled with a lividly orange fluid. There's no doubt what it is: it's a neural-disruptor, probably military-grade. The solution of specially tailored neurophagous plasmids will melt his synapses and scramble his final thoughts. It will make a final brainscan impossible, and therefore prevent him from being uploaded into the Great Infinity. It is the ultimate insult for any Martian.

But instead of struggling even more or gurgling in horror, Frank smiles. A wet choking sound rumbles out of his chest. He's laughing. It is not an expected or wanted reaction.

Furious, the murderer stabs the syringe into Frank's neck, causing him to instantly twist spasmodically, his face contorting in pain. He crumples to the ground as he's released from the mecha-suit's grip. Slowly, the spasms stop as the neural-disruptor courses through his body and shrivels his nerve connections. He's now no more than dead meat with no hope of salvation. Even so, the murderer raises their foot and stomps Frank's head in, spraying his brains over the wall.

With this murder, the story begins.

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# Chapter 2: The Suspect

Dimi wakes with a groan. She rubs her throbbing temples. She's about to close her eyes again, but an electric jolt tears through her nerves and lights her mind on fire. She doesn't know where she is! She leaps from the bed, hollering a hoarse cry as she fights off the sheets entangling her legs. Her heartrate explodes. She crouches into a defensive stance, her battlereflexes twitching as she casts her eyes around the room for her clothes, her weapons, anything. They've taken everything! What's going on! Why is she...

"Damn," she whispers, forcing herself to calm down.

The blood is still deafening in her ears, but she straightens and takes a step back. She inhales a deep breath and exhales it slowly through her nose. She rubs her temples again and shakes her head. The years of piloting her assault-mecha has taken a toll on her mind and memory.

She's in the same tiny room she's been renting for two weeks. It's four meters long, four meters high, and two and half meters wide - the exact width of a mecha-digger's scooping pail. The walls are bare rock. There's no furniture in the room besides the sweat-soaked mattress she just left. It's the kind of room transient Decanted workers rent for a day or two before moving on to their next gig. It's very far from any of the conveniences of the main cavern-complexes or even any subsidiary cavern-habitats. It's the cheapest she could find. She's already late on her payments.

Something woke her up though. Dimi scans the room. She tentatively calls out,

"Hello? Anyone here?"

It wouldn't be the first time someone is hiding under the covers. But no one is there, and Dimi doesn't need to pretend knowing them or remembering what happened last night. It's also possible someone had been here, and had woken her up after slamming the vault door to her room. But after checking, she finds that the door hasn't been touched.

A muffled voice snaps Dimi to attention. It's coming from beside the bed.

"...we have great hopes today. Great hopes for the People of Mars and our future. Today may very well harken a new path for us and answer our dreams..."

It's coming from the vidscreen. Dimi shakes her head as she passes a hand through her greasy hair. She must have knocked the thing over. She retrieves it from the ground and props it back onto the shelf on the wall.

"...the promised Great Infinity and the Singularity! That's what we could witness today! We've been told that this new upload procedure is revolutionary and corrects the errors of past attempts, which previous teams had unwittingly included."

The speaker is a well-groomed, smartly dressed man of indeterminate age. He's benignly good-looking with symmetrical features and healthy, uniformly dark brown skin.

"The head planner of this upload attempt is to here to describe how it will proceed." The speaker turns and the shot widens to include a thin, pale person with androgynous features. "Dr. Lae Kino, thank you for taking the time to explain the process. Can you describe the approach your team has taken?"

"Certainly." Dr. Kino inclines their head. "Previous attempts involved an upload process that used a stabilizing protocol that was static. This of course was done to risk of personality disconcordance within the donor's brainscan." The doctor waves their hand. The shot switches over to someone stretched out in a gurney. Their head is obscured by a conical metallic mechanism three times their size. "But we believe the risk of discordance is low, so we are using a revolutionary new dynamic stabilizing protocol that will ensure a successful upload..."

Dimi responds to this portentous announcement by emptying her bowels in the pulldown toilet. If she could, she'd shut the vidscreen off or at least mute it, but the controls have been overridden by the Martian Unified Government. Every viewing surface on the planet is displaying the exact same thing.

It's meant to demonstrate that the government is working assiduously for the future of Mars. More importantly, it's supposed to keep alive the hope that no matter how destitute someone is - specifically, a malcontent Decanted - their place in the Great Infinity is still guaranteed. Whatever difficulty they're enduring, whatever injustice they may encounter, it will soon pass away into meaninglessness. As long as they deposit their final brainscans into the Vault of Minds, they too shall find immortality when the Singularity finally arrives.

Dimi gives the mucous in her nose a vigorous snort as she ties her hair behind her head. Like many Martians, she doubts a successful upload will ever happen. Not that she doubts the sincerity of the Martian Unified Government. Banish the thought. It's because for the last ten years, after regular twice-yearly attempts, none have succeeded. Because of this, like many Martians, the only time she follows the attempts is when she's betting on the outcome. A successful bet on whether the upload will be a "blanker" or a "shrieker" could pay for a week's living expenses. Betting is illegal, but that's never stopped anyone, certainly not Dimi. It would take just a quick call to her bookie to make a simple, modest bet...

But Dimi sighs and scratches her nethers before pulling on her jumper suit. She needs every last one of the remaining credits in her pitiful account. She curses Frank again for holding out on her money. Her father, the lying piece of shit, owes her. He claims they're settled up, but Dimi knows they're not. She knows he's got some kind of scheme going, and for the work she's done for him, she deserves a piece of it. She presses her fists to the sides of her head. She swears she's going to get the money out of him one way or the other, and then she'll find Greta and...

"Argh! Greta!" Dimi howls into her hands. "Damn you! Damn you to hell!"

Of course, she doesn't mean it. A dreamy smile spreads over her face, as she tightens the buckles and straps of her suit and thinks of the lovely Decanted woman. As much as it has been torture chasing Greta, she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the exquisite pain it's brought her. She smiles as her thoughts drift to that impossible woman. She'll have her soon. There are only a few small details to resolve, namely getting her money from Frank. Soon though, they'll start their lives away from all this nonsense. She's told her this many times, and Greta had smiled as she stroked her hair in her soft, gentle way that never failed to arouse her.

It'll all go perfectly so long as Katy doesn't... Dimi frowns at the thought of her fiance, Katy LeoAng. That's another of the details that are still outstanding before she and Greta can be free. Katy, that uptight, haughty bitch. That highborn geneperfect woman is as intolerable and as her body is astonishingly beautiful and lusciously desirable in every way. Dimi reminds herself she owes Katy nothing and their business is done. But despite those facts, Katy inexplicably refuses to annul their engagement, always citing some excuse or another. Dimi has been putting her nonsense off for too long. She resolves to call Katy today and get her to end things once and for all.

But before she can do something,

BEEP!

Dimi whirls, her fists raised and her foot stance wide and stable. It's her door. She forces herself to calm down again. It isn't even open.

BEEP!

Dimi scowls. She guesses it's the complex manager asking for her rent again. She's been ignoring the multiple messages and invoices sent through the network. At least, she assumes they've been sent to her through the network. Her com-drone broke down a week ago and she's left it intentionally in disrepair to avoid situations like this. Dimi sneers. The manager is a nervous, wide-eyed man, whose spine largely consists of bluster and meaningless threats. Just like her father. Call his bluff and show him what a real threat of violence looks like and he'll melt away like a stack of frozen piss. Scaring him off would be an excellent start to her day.

When her door swings open, Dimi heaves a breath to bark out,

"What is it now, you shi..."

Her words die in her mouth, as a completely different sight greets her. It's the Martian police. Two of them.

"Dimi Mazer? Can you confirm your ID tag identity?" one of the two Martian officers says. He's wearing a pale blue uniform, while the other is enclosed within a mecha-suit tinted the standard police blueish-grey.

The officer who spoke is tall and handsome, with pleasing features that Dimi wouldn't mind exploring more closely. He's a Decanted. Decanted lovers are the best. She can see herself tracing the pretty spot of pale skin arcing below his mouth that he's managed to partially hide with his clipped beard. She bets it wouldn't take much for him to have a go at it either. Like her father, she may be unusually short being just under six feet, but she knows her rippling muscles, her charming, roguish smile, and her playful, twinkling eyes more than make up for it. Of course, the only look he's giving in response to her predatory stare is one of stoic professionalism - but with a tiny bit of effort, she could see herself sweating and panting, her olive-brown limbs draped over his ruddy-red torso as she...

Her horniness is instantly sapped when she locks her gaze with the other officer. He's also tall and handsome, but in a way that's clearly benefitted from cosmetic body-mods. His complexion glows dusty gold, an effect that's accentuated by silver-white lips, eyes, and hair. It's a popular affectation among dome-dwellers, always so eager to flaunt their status. With his conspicuous wealth, he's clearly no Decanted. And it's likely why he's the one wearing the mecha-suit. As the genenorm, he's considered more "trustworthy."

"Domie ass-grit," Dimi spits a thick yellowish wad that lands between officer's feet. As a life-long cavern-dweller, Dimi has always hated the dome-dwellers for their privilege and their arrogance.

"Cave-slick worm," the golden officer snarls, his nose wrinkling.

"Now everyone stay calm..." the Decanted officer says, raising his hands.

Dimi and the golden officer give each other a measuring once-over. She sees the contemptuous look the dome-dweller gives her, and she guesses he thinks he has the upper hand. But one look at his police-issue mecha-suit tells her she can take him. The suit may look threatening with its large shoulder plates and thick leg bolsters, but she knows it's for show. One solid punch to its lumbar region would jostle its powerpack and cause it to fritz out for a full thirty seconds.

A peal of applause breaks the tension.

"...Fellow Martians, let us reflect on the generous contribution of the individual undergoing the upload attempt." The vidscreen flashes as it pans over a large crowd. "Sadly they will not survive the upload, but we can rest assured that no matter what happens their brainscan will be safely stored in the Vault of Minds..."

"Hey! Did you hear me?"

Dimi blinks.

"Are you Dimi Mazer or not?" the Decanted officer asks again.

Dimi scowls but nods, confirming what their scanners have already picked up from the bonechips implanted into her forearm - courtesy of her time in the service. "What's going on? Is the Martian police collecting rent now?"

"Rent?" the Decanted officer says in surprise. "You think this has to do with your rent?"

The golden officer laughs. "Now look at what you've done. You've confused my deek partner. No, this isn't about rent. This is something much better. Let me introduce us. I am Officer Michael Aurin. This here is Officer Stan Twelver. Since you have confirmed you are Dimi Mazer, we've got something good for you." He beams, pausing for effect. "Dimi Mazer, you are under arrest for the murder of your father, Franklyn Mazer."

A full ten second passes in silence.

"Frank is dead..." Dimi says quietly to herself.

She bursts into uncontrollable laughter. Both officers frown. The golden one positively glowers.

"Hahaha... Wh-what? You... you... Hahaha... How dumb can you be? Me?... murder?" Dimi gasps between her laughing. "So Frank's dead, is he? Don't get me wrong, fellas, I'm happy the fucker is dead. But you... you think... Hahaha... I did it? I haven't seen the fucker in weeks! Did you... did you..." Dimi doubles over, as she coughs even more laughter. "...did you even check my ID tag? You'll see I've been in this cave complex in the middle of nowhere all of last night!"

Officer Aurin, whose face has turned a gold-flecked purple, growls, "ID tags can be falsified. Why the hell do you think we asked you to confirm? You've been in the service. You have contacts who can do deactivate them or send out false readings."

"Maybe." Dimi shrugs. "But I don't have the credits to pay them. And what about his defenses? He's got sentinel drones tagged to me lurking in the hallways. I can't get past those things. I'd get blown up before I got within two hundred meters of his house!"

"We know you can use a mecha-suit, ex-lieutenant," Officer Aurin snarls. He points at the tactical jumper suit that Dimi is wearing. "You're dressed for it. You'd think you'd be smart enough to get rid of the evidence."

Dimi looks down at her suit. True, it is the necessary base-layer to use a mecha-suit, but then again: "They're the only clothes I own, asshole. Doesn't mean anything. I haven't used a mecha anything for months."

"Yeah? Show him," Officer Aurin waves to Officer Twelver.

The Decanted officer steps forward and launches a com-drone into the air. As the hand-sized spherical device unfolds and initiates its vid-replay, he says,

"This video was taken within Franklyn Mazer's panic room. It's the only recording we have, as all the other ones were disabled. Apparently this was a secret recorder he hid from everyone. It captured his last moments."

Dimi is about to wave away whatever "proof" she's about to see, but she shuts up as the image resolves and shows the murderer stalking her father. The angle of the recording isn't perfect but it shows the murderer stepping forward, carefully avoiding the security systems.

She almost roots as the murderer finally leaps on Frank and shoves him in to a wall. She stops herself when she notices something odd about the mecha-suit the murderer is operating. It's very familiar. It should be. It's her old mecha-suit.

"Well, fuck me."

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# Chapter 3: The Pious One

Aly blinks, signaling his implants to deny the call request. He doesn't bother opening the message notice flashing in the corner of his eye. He'll deal with it later. He has much more important things to focus on.

"Fellow Martians, let us reflect on the generous contribution of the individual undergoing the upload attempt. Sadly they will not survive the upload process, but we can rest assured that no matter what happens, their brainscan will be safely stored in the Vault of Minds." The solemn speaker says. "With their sacrifice we will all join the Great Infinity!"

Like the other novitiates sitting around him, Aly is watching the upload attempt with bated breath. They almost weren't able to be here. Thankfully, and not without considerable difficulty, they managed to time their return from the Noctis Labyrinth to coincide with the attempt.

"As Dr. Kino told us before leaving to their work, the upload will happen in approximately ten minutes. Ah! There! You can see the uploader is warming up now!" The image dutifully zooms in on the conical upload mechanism. Its sides have lit up with blinking lights. Three circular sections around its top have begun to spin with increasing speed. "Fellow Martians! This will be extraordinary! As you can see some modifications were made..."

But Aly's attention is broken again when his vision goes dark and flashes white three times.

Another call request. Again, he blinks to deny it, and a moment later, a second message flashes in his vision. He shakes his head, reminding himself it can't possibly be as important as the event he's watching now.

"...these are the changes that are bound to make the difference we're hoping for!" the speaker says. "This may harken the start of the Singularity!"

The speaker's words are very fine indeed. But as much as Aly would like to share his enthusiasm... Aly blows out his cheeks. He knows it's unlikely the upload attempt will be successful. Despite what the speaker claims, there have been no great breakthroughs in the upload technology since the last attempt - and one would be needed for any true uploading to happen. Already, the triangular exhaust panels lining the sides of the mechanism are glowing a faint pink, showing the first signs of overheating.

On the other hand, Aly reminds himself there is a legitimate chance the uploading would be successful. The "experts" said that for the upload to work they needed such things like exponentially magnified personality matrices and improved data-capacitors that could withstand the massive amount of data that would course through them... but who knew really what was needed? Who truly knew what would make the miracle of the Singularity happen? Maybe dynamic stabilizing really is what's needed for success!

Emotion wells in his chest as Aly allows himself to dream of the possibilities. This could be it! This could be the one that starts the Singularity! They may all soon be queuing at the Vault of Minds ready to join the Great Infinity and...

His vision goes dark and flashes white three times.

"Damn it!" Aly curses, blinking the call away.

This time, instead of ignoring the message, he signals his implants to open it. He's not planning on replying. He just wants to identify the sender so he can order his implants to permanently block them.

It's his brother Ivan.

Aly's brows raise in surprise. What could he possibly want? The only thing in his message is a terse request he contact him immediately. Of course, as a Non-Singularist, Ivan wouldn't be bothered about calling during this time; he may even have done so intentionally to defy convention. Aly pushes him out of his mind, having no intention to call him back until after the upload attempt. He further instructs his implants to pause notifications on not only Ivan's call requests, but everyone's as well, to ensure that he may concentrate on what really matters.

Much to his dismay though, his thoughts drift from the screen to his brother. It's been ages since Aly has spoken to Ivan. Not since a few months ago when he was stripped of his status as an academic. A deep pang of deep sadness strikes Aly as he thinks of the opportunities Ive lost. Not Ive, Aly reminds himself; his name went back to being Ivan since he stopped being a respected member of the University of Olympos Mons. Oh, Ivan, Aly thinks ruefully. What could have caused him to leave the University? There were rumors of some kind of controversy involving another academic, but no matter how much Aly asked around, he could find no information about what happened.

"So Aly, you think it's going to be a shrieker this time?" the person beside Aly asks. "I've got money on them being a shrieker with persistence between 2-4 minutes. The bet pays ten to one."

Aly turns to the pale, lavender-haired woman beside him. Her name is Rae, and they started as novitiates in the same month. In spite of her incorrigible ways, Aly is fond of her. She's also not the only one who bets on the upload outcomes. The other novitiates do as well. Aly is the only one who doesn't.

"I'm not sure, Rae. The last one was a blanker, weren't they?" Aly says, creasing his soft, features into a tolerant smile.

"Yep," Rae agrees. "But everyone knows the previous outcome has no bearing on the current results. The stats have proved it every time."

"Right. Sorry."

"Don't apologize!" Rae grumbles, playfully nudging Aly in the ribs. "I'm just trying to explain this to you."

"Ok. Thanks, I suppose?"

"You're welcome. I'm just saying the odds are ideal for a good payoff. If I'm right, then the numbers I've been running..."

Rae has no need of money. Her family is one of the richest bankers on the plains of Hellas. They're so wealthy they live in their own private dome - no need to share their air with any of the lower classes stuck in the cavern-habitats. She became a novitiate shortly after her family deposited a very large donation to the Church ensure her acceptance. She was sent in the hope of changing her ways.

"Come on, come on! Let it be a shrieker!" Rae yells out.

"No! It's got to be a blanker this time!" someone else answers.

"It's going to be a shrieker with two-four persistence!"

"Ha! The last time that happened was two years ago."

"Yeah? Let's see who's right! Don't forget you owe me money!"

But Rae is not some clueless dilettante. Wasteful, maybe, and prone to minor sacrilege, but not clueless. Just recently, Rae proved herself to be savvy, worldly, and far tougher than her slight body would suggest. These qualities were invaluable during their last mission among the unregistered colonies.

As part of their regular duties, novitiates are sent out to spread the word of the Church of the Singularity and convince people to commit to working towards the Great Infinity. One very well-known location for unregistered colonies is in the Noctis Labyrinth, only a hundred or so kilometers away from the Marineris cavern-habitats. While not very distant, the trek there is difficult, involving unstable terrain broken by deep chasms and three-foot sand-dunes that can collapse at any moment and engulf the most rugged octopede vehicle.

Once within the labyrinth, travelers have to wade through a thick fog of unbreathable chloroflurocarbon gases. Nothing is visible past a few meters. There's also the booby-traps. And the risk of getting sniped. Or of being captured, ransomed, and sent back in small pieces. The more frequent outcome is to be robbed of every single piece of equipment and left with one rebreather mask and one oxygen ampoule to make one's way back to safety. The Decanted in the unregistered colonies do not want to be found, as many of them are fleeing their Life Debt.

"Look! It's starting! Oh, my fellow Martians! This could be our future!" the speaker says, as a loud whining sound rises in the background. The top of the upload mechanism is a blur of spinning machinery.

"It doesn't look good! Maybe the upload won't even get past the first step!" someone remarks. Indeed, the exhaust panels have not only turned red, but tendrils of gray smoke are snaking out of them.

"Ah, come on! You know it'll at least do that!" Rae says. "They have to get at least something."

"It's happened before!"

"Not for three years! And that was because of a freak power failure."

"It's only going to be a couple of minutes now! Let's all hope that the Great Infinity is upon us!"

Aly listens to the banter with amusement. The other novitiates respect Rae as much he does. They should, as they owe their lives to her.

When Aly and his fellow novitiates found the Decanted in the Noctis Labyrinth, they weren't in any way friendly. The dozen or so Decanted standing in front of them were loosely outfitted in a mishmash of plasma weapons and half-complete sets of mecha-suits - all charged and pointed at them. They'd received ample warning to turn back. Indeed, seconds before the Decanted appeared, one of the novitiates had walked over a newly placed landmine and was instantly consumed within a cloud of nanodigesters.

Total disaster was only avoided when Rae stepped forward, flashing her ever-present, ever-confident smile, and started haggling with them. She claimed to know their oxygen recyclers were failing and one of the novitiates would be able to fix it. She also claimed the last leader of the colony left them with contaminated nutrient media, so they wouldn't be able to grow cultivate their crops of algae and yeast-films. They would starve in a month. She didn't know any of this, but they were good guesses. It also helped that Teo was an accomplished technician and the mission had brought a supply of nutrient media as a gift.

"Thirty seconds to the upload! My friends, my fellow Martians! Brace yourself!"

"Come on... shrieker!"

"No! Blanker!"

"You wish!"

Aly leans in, looking closely and fervently hoping for an outcome that will change their lives. His fellow novitiates don't share his hopes, but Aly has enough faith to share among all them. He's been teased and praised for it in equal measure.

Indeed, while it was Rae who saved their lives, it was thanks to Aly that the unregistered colony was brought into the fold of the Church of the Singularity. Before he had joined as a novitiate, Aly had long been a devotee of the Great Infinity. Throughout his teens, he devoured all the texts and lectures he could find, reading and watching them over and over again until he had them memorized. He could often act out the lectures perfectly including the questions from the audience. His guileless sincerity was such that people were often caught by his words, drawn into conversation, and won over by his conviction.

It was with this same earnestness that Aly spoke to the Decanted, and one by one, the entire colony became eager to register their place in the Vault of Minds. It was an enormous success. Shortly after they returned, his assembly leader pulled him aside and told him he'd been given a special commendation in his record, one that would bring him attention. Aly's heart soared. He dared to dream. Lacking a wealthy sponsor, this was the only way for his name be put forward to become a full member of the Church - an honor he always thought would be denied him.

"Fifteen seconds! All signs point to an optimal upload attempt!"

"Whatever! It looks like it's going to blow!"

"You want to bet on it, Jim? Ten credits!"

"Fine! You're on, Rae!"

Aly clasps his hands together. In a promising sign, the upload donor is stiff and rigid, but not flailing or twitching. The attempt should at least yield something, as Rae said. It would be a terrible blow to Martian morale if it didn't.

"Five seconds! Five!... four!... three!... two!... one!"

The speaker steps back and splays out his arms, as if embracing the Singularity itself. The whirring whine dies down as the machine is brought to a halt. Surprisingly, none of the exhaust panels have blown out, though they're crimson red and emitting dark-grey plumes of smoke. Dr. Kino is standing in front of a console terminal, staring at a dense cloud of data. Her assistants are making themselves busy, taking notes and measurements, but they too are keeping an eye on the results.

At this point, the uploaded brainscan should be filtering through its personality matrix. If the upload is successful, the brainscan should be coming into awareness and discovering the manifold possibilities opening up to it. It's been described as watching the blooming of an infinitely-faceted flower, with every petal luminescent with unending streams of data. At its fullest opening, the very heart of the flower would peel apart and reveal a whorl of pulsing quantum bits through which the awakened brainscan would plunge and emerge bearing the Great Infinity.

But if the upload isn't successful,

"EEEEEEEEEE!!!!! EEEEEEEE!!!!! OOOOOOIIIIIEEEEEE!!!!!"

"A shrieker! Yes!" Rae calls out triumphantly. "You owe me ten credits for the upload, Jim! Now let's see how long it lasts! Come on! Two to four minutes! Come on!"

On screen, Dr. Kino is yelling at her assistants, trying to get them to stabilize the upload. The projection over the console is a mess of flashing warnings, compiling number streams, and fractal logic linkages. The image stays over them for a few seconds longer, but then returns to the somber-faced speaker, who shakes his head and says,

"Sadly it seems that we have longer to wait for the Singularity. It is possible the upload may be stabilized, and we will still be watching for this. However, we do not expect it to succeed."

Aly agrees. He may as well reply to Ivan's call now.

He discreetly steps out of the room, and finds his way into the meditation hall. He knows it will be quiet there. Perfect for when he turns on his implants. He hopes this time it won't leave him with an awful migraine. It only happens occasionally, but it's the price he's more than willing to pay to be on the cutting-edge of brain interface technology, not to mention part of the scientific progress that can only improve their chances at starting the Singularity.

Like all novitiates, he was offered the opportunity to adopt the latest implant technology. It's a privilege they share with the academics at the University. The brain-interface gear allows him to not only connect to the network with a thought, but he's also able to make complex calculations and simulations of the future. Aly is embarrassed to admit he hasn't been daring enough to use his implants beyond basic communication and search functions.

Settling down on a cushion, Aly flicks his index to initiate the call. After a few seconds, Ivan's image overlays onto the foreground of his vision.

"Aly! Where have you been? Why didn't you answer my calls?" Ivan demands. His cold intense eyes glare from his long and lean face. He's looking as stern and passionless as usual.

"I was watching the upload attempt..." Aly starts to explain, but he stumbles as he sees Ivan is calling from outside their father's cavern-habitat. There appears to be a great deal of commotion going on. "Are you outside father's home, Ivan? What's going on back there? Is that the Martian police? Why are they there?"

Ivan grimaces. "So you don't know. I thought you would have gotten the news somehow through the network. I should have known you don't use your implants to keep tabs on critical information as I used to." He points his thumb at what's behind him. "That's right. That is the police. Frank is dead. He's been murdered."

Aly reels.

"Father is dead? Murdered?" But his surprise is replaced by his prime concern: "Has he had his brainscan? We have to find his brainscan and take it to the Vault..."

"That's not going to happen, Aly."

"What? But he has to..."

"He was injected with a neural-disruptor before he was killed, and for good measure the murderer crushed his head to mush." Ivan shakes his head. "So no, a brainscan will not be possible."

"But the Great Infinity... Father needs to..." Aly struggles to contain his growing shock.

"I'm sorry, Aly, but we've got bigger problems than that," Ivan says. His lips are bloodless and pale. "They think Dimi is the murderer. I've been told that they found her and they're about to arrest her."

"...what? Dimi? I..."

"And it gets worse," Ivan grinds his teeth. "It's not just the police. A Church Inquisitor is here."

"An Inquisitor? Ivan how can that be? That's not..."

"Fuck! Why is a Church Inquisitor interested in Frank of all people?!"

"Are you sure? I..."

"Aly! Yes, I'm sure!" Ivan snaps. "You need to come to Frank's house right now. I need your help to deal with this."

Aly jerks his head to attention. "Yes. Yes, of course. I'll come over."

"Good. One more thing." Ivan's gaze burns intensely. "Has Katy contacted you? Have you spoken to her?"

"Katy? Dimi's fiance?" Aly furrows his brows. "No, I haven't heard from her. Did you want me to contact her?"

"No!" Ivan bursts with force. "Don't talk to her. Don't accept her calls, you hear? Just get over here as soon as you can."

The connection is abruptly shut. Mechanically, Aly stands up, trying to bring order to his mind, but his thoughts are again jostled when,

"Aly! There you are! You missed the end! Figured you would though." Rae gives Aly a good shake. "The upload lasted a full five minutes before winking out! Fucker! Lost my damned bet. At least I got ten credits from Jim. Hey, you want to go grab a drink, Aly? Hey Aly? You okay? What's going on?"

A flood of emotions rushes over Aly as Ivan's horrendous news finally lands. His father will be denied the Great Infinity. He collapses into Rae's arms and sobs.

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# Chapter 4: The Blasphemous One

Ivan angrily flicks a finger at his com-drone, ordering it to collapse back to its dormant state. But when nothing happens, he's given yet another humiliating reminder he no longer has his implants. He's a mere human now. He clenches his teeth. Pain spreads in his jaw.

Slowly and deliberately, he extends his hand, palm facing upwards and his fingers lifted to a ninety-degree angle. He holds it for three seconds before the device acknowledges the command and returns to him. Another lethargic five seconds later, it powers down and clumsily folds back upon itself. It's only then Ivan can return the com-drone back into his pocket.

Everything about the last few hours has been ridiculous nonsense. Earlier this morning, he was roused from sleep when M4ry, Frank's household drone, contacted him. M4ry explained Frank was unresponsive within his panic room. None of his lifesigns were registering. The police had already arrived, but they needed authorization from a household member in good standing to override the security protocols to the panic room. M4ry had tried to contact Aly but since he was out on his mission that left Ivan.

Blearily, Ivan gave his authorization. He wasn't concerned. Neither were the police. They'd only sent an officer who was at the end of his shift. Every few weeks, Frank had a habit of indulging in massive amounts of mind-altering substances, many of which were tailor-made for him, since the usual highs no longer held any surprises for him. When he inevitably overdosed and flatlined, his sensory recliner placed him in stasis, waiting for M4ry to initiate contact, request assistance, and have Frank sent to the body-modders to have his liver and heart reconstructed. But this time did not turn out to be usual routine.

Ivan curses his father. Damn that fool for getting himself killed. If the bastard had any decency he'd die in a way that would permanently remove his stain from the planet. But, as every Martian seemed to know, Frank had no such decency, and Ivan was dragged into his festering mess.

"So I guess the dynamic stabilizer wasn't the key to the upload," someone says from within a group of officers. They had gathered around one of their consoles to display the event. They're standing so close the plates of their mecha-suits scrape against each other. "What do you think was the issue this time?"

"Maybe the upload speed? They say they can't ever get that right," one of the officers muses.

They're conspicuously not talking about any bets they may or may not have made. As officers and representatives of the government, it would be unseemly. There's also the fact that a Church Inquisitor is only a few meters away from them. The Inquisitor is flanked by an attendant encased within a hulking mecha-suit that dwarfs the officers'. Both the Inquisitor and his attendant are clad in the rusty-red of their order.

"Didn't they resolve the speed issue in the last attempt? It's got to be the personality matrix, right?" another officers offers.

"No, no. It can't be the personality matrix. They have that nailed down," the first officer says. "It's the brainscan encoding protocol. I hear that's the main debate now in the university."

Ivan resists sharing his thoughts on the matter. He watched the upload from the corner of his eye, and he could guess what approach they used. It was a variation on the respected Musio-Paolo upload method, but with some additions from the school of Ong'Tale. It wasn't anything innovative despite what the announcer claimed. He also knows Dr. Kino well. If Ivan were generous, he'd describe Dr. Kino as a half-baked hack with barely the base skills to distinguish a personality matrix from the flatulence that burst from their mouth. When he was at the University, they'd had many arguments over the years, most of them bitter and tinged with contempt.

Ivan shakes his head, banishing the memories away. He clears his throat.

"Officer Mala, if you wouldn't mind? I'd like to close this affair."

The officer he addressed slowly turns to face him. Her shoulder-epaulets have gold edges, making her the superior in charge of the investigation.

"We don't answer to you, blasphemer!" The officer sneers.

Ivan somehow doesn't to roll his eyes. Her reaction is a common one when people see his black armband denoting him as a Non-Singularist. Most people are civil, and not half as dramatic as Officer Mala and her subordinates. Ivan guesses it's another performance for the Inquisitor's benefit. He hardens his expression. Very well. He can play this game too.

"Technically, you do. You answer to the executor of the estate, which is me." Ivan raises his hand to forestall the officer's retort.

Calmly, neutrally, and using the placid 'lecturer' voice he employs to intellectually pummel his adversaries, he says,

"You'll agree that since Frank is dead, his estate has now been passed over to an executor. Given that he has no spouse, this would be his children in order of seniority. And, since my older sister Dimi has been rendered ineligible by your murder accusation - made in error, I should add for the record - that means the next senior child is the executor of the estate. Me."

Ivan crosses his arms.

"As the executor of the Mazer estate, I am requesting that you continue with your investigation or get off this property. Failure to do so would put me within rights to lodge a formal complaint regarding your incompetence and your inability to recognize my Martian rights."

Before Officer Mala can reply, an amused voice interjects,

"Oh, we wouldn't want that would we? Banish the thought that anyone would infringe on your precious rights as a Martian citizen."

Ivan and the officers turn to face the Inquisitor. He's sauntering over, arms akimbo and grinning widely. His hair, what's left of it, is wispy and white. His face is so gaunt his eyes rattle in their sockets. His smock hangs loosely over his skeletal frame. He looks like an old, frail man. But Ivan knows better.

Since the Singularity means the body is irrelevant, Church devotees demonstrate their faith by allowing their bodies to shrivel away, eagerly replacing their failing organs and limbs with artificial ones. Some renounce their bodies entirely, becoming disembodied heads kept alive by a mess of tubes and electrical jolts. Their disdain for their bodies also means they're more than willing to adopt experimental body enhancements that are both dangerous and have the tendency to make their users go mad. This old "frail" man could conceivably have had his bone structure entirely replaced with that of a military powerframe, potentially making him as strong and dangerous as his mecha-suited attendant.

"Surely we wouldn't want anyone to point out the flaws of our courageous Martian Police? Who else could we trust to protect us from the dreadful horrors of traffic violations?" the Inquisitor laughs, as he claps the backs of the officers. None of them smile. Another common trait of Church devotees is that they couldn't care less about offending people - because again, social relationships are supposed to mean nothing in the Singularity. "I do wonder though why our dear Non-Singularist friend Ivan is so eager to close this case. Of course, it could be because he wishes attention to shift away from the degeneracy of his family. Or could he be hiding something? Could he be happy that his sister is the prime suspect since all the attention is on her and not him?"

Ivan pales. He says nothing. He refuses to give satisfaction to the Inquisitor. He also knows that with a blink the Inquisitor could send off the authorization to put him under investigation.

"But perhaps our little Non-Singularlist has a point," the Inquisitor taps his chin. He whirls to the officers who flinch under his gaze. "Why is it we haven't had a report on Frank Mazer's death? Wasn't his body discovered four hours and twenty-two minutes ago? The police drones take an average seventy-four minutes to record the crime site and collect evidence, so that should have been taken care of. The suspect has been identified and is in the process of being arrested. So where is the summarizing report? Why has it not been sent off to your superiors, and therefore... why have I not been sent it by them? If not incompetence, what pray tell accounts for this delay?"

"...I...ah... we are nearly done the investigation, Inquisitor Zos," Officer Mala stutters. "We have encountered an accounting challenge that we are finding difficult to resolve."

"Oh? Accounting! Numbers then! We like numbers! How is accounting responsible?"

"The... er... the murder happened within the victim's panic room at 02:34. We know this because of the vid recording we recovered from the room."

"Yes?"

"Well, we wouldn't have known the time of death otherwise, because all the recordings within the house were erased from 01:13 to 03:13. This includes the recordings from their household drone, which experienced a shutdown during that period," the officer says, speaking more confidently as Inquisitor Zos leaned in to listen more carefully. It's apparently new information to him. It's new information to Ivan as well.

"Wait. Why didn't M4ry send out an alarm about its shutdown after it became functional again?" Ivan asks.

"According to the drone it was a minor memory abnormality, something that has been happening to it due to its age, so it flagged the incident for maintenance," Officer Mala replies. "So it continued functioning as usual following its established protocols. At 04:00, it attempted contact Frank, and when it couldn't, it precipitated the actions that lead to Frank's discovery."

"So the missing recordings are what you're trying to account for?" Ivan asks again. "And don't tell me the existing recording is the basis that you're using to accuse Dimi of murder."

"The missing recordings are some of the things we're trying to account for," Officer Mala gives Ivan a death glare. "And yes, the existing recording is part of why we've identified Dimi as..."

"You must be kidding me. I've seen that recording," Ivan snorts. "There's nothing in it that can be solidly linked to Dimi. Yes, it was her mecha-suit, but I know for a fact she pawned the thing after she left the service. Anyone could have bought it and used it. Sure, Frank says 'Dimi,' but there's no way that he could have known who was in that mecha-suit. The murderer didn't reply, and didn't do anything to reveal who they were. And I bet you didn't find any corroborating genetic traces of Dimi, did you? Those mecha-suits are hermetic so it wouldn't have left anything."

"We did not find any genetic trace of Dimi in the crime scene," Officer Mala admits reluctantly. "But, as a former service member, not only does Dimi have all the skills to use the mecha-suit, she also has the skills required to erase the recordings within the house and deactivate the housedrone. There's also..."

"Oh, come on!" Ivan says. "Any number of people have those skills..."

"There's also the fact that there was an item stolen from the victim's panic room!" Officer Mala very nearly yells. "That is what we are trying to account for. We have established through numerous public and private recordings that Dimi felt that the victim owed her money. We believe she killed the victim and stole something she believed was owed to her. Unfortunately, the victim did not keep a record of the items he owned in the panic room. To try to get some sense of what might have been in there, we have been interviewing the victim's servant, a certain Smiley Halver. We have good reason to believe the servant could be the murder's accomplice since she was on the premises during the crime for her weekly overnight workshift. We are trying to determine whether that is true as well. This has been proving difficult because the individual has been non-cooperative in providing us with information."

There's a moment of silence after the officer finishes speaking. Her chin is raised with a smug smile playing over her lips. If she's expecting to be congratulated though,

"Tell me, officer. What exactly are your 'good reasons' to believe Smiley was an accomplice to the murder?" Ivan says icily. "Or did you take one look at her and assume that the 'deek' had to be involved?"

The Inquisitor interjects with a laugh before Officer Mala can retort.

"Now, now, now. Before we get into that messiness, how about you show us to this Smiley? Perhaps we might be able to get some information out of her."

Officer Mala makes the wise choice not to say anything further. She bows her head to the Inquisitor and waves for them to follow her.

As they pass the deactivated drone sentinels and walk into the house, Ivan's features harden into an expressionless mask, his thoughts twisting and knotting with concern. Though not concern for Dimi. He doesn't care what happens to his sister. Whatever befalls her will be that fool's own doing.

The only thing that Ivan cares about, as Inquisitor Zos somehow guessed, is the attention Frank's death has brought onto his family. He needs the police gone. He needs their constantly recording and cataloguing drones gone. For, much like Dimi, their father owes him, and he needs privacy to search the house. He also needs time to properly speak to Smiley and ask his own questions. So when Officer Mala said they were questioning her, Ivan had a stab of fear that Smiley may have already revealed too much.

But Ivan's concerns vanish when they walk into the room where Smiley is being questioned. She's seated on a plastic drum filled with oil of some kind. Two officers are standing over her. Smiley's head hangs over her manacled hands. A bruise is purpling her right cheek, and her bottom lip is split and bleeding. No wonder they haven't been able to get anything from her.

"Release her." Ivan pitches his voice to project cold outrage. The officers look to Officer Mala. "Unless you have charged Smiley with anything then handcuffing her is against regulations. It's also illegal to use physical violence to question any suspect, so I suggest you do as I say immediately before you and your superior make yourselves even more likely to be demoted."

Officer Mala grits, "Do as he says."

When they undo Smiley's binds, Ivan says,

"Now get out of here. You have everything you need. You know I would be right to lodge a formal complaint regarding police brutality, so don't tempt me."

Again, the officers look to their superior, whose face has turned a remarkable shade of crimson. She doesn't break eye contact with Ivan as she signals her officers to leave.

But Inquisitor Zos puts a halt to any movement.

"Now hold on! We're not done yet, are we? Did we get everything we needed from this person? Has she given us a list of Frank's belongings? Has she told us what the murderer has stolen?"

Ivan stays carefully silent. It would be disastrous if Smiley is made to talk. And there's nothing he can do to stop an interrogation with the full powers of the Church behind it. But there is someone who can stop all of this, even though Ivan is reluctant to reach out to her.

"No? Nothing? You've been in here for how long, and you didn't get anything from her?" the Inquisitor says, as the officers squirm in front of his implacable intensity. He signals his attendant. "Fine. Let's see what she'll tell me then. Marvin, you can help me with this. Did you bring the cranial attachments? The two-way ones? Good. We may need them. Set up a sterile area for us, and bring her there."

Damn.

Ivan plunges his hand into his pocket and pulls out his com-drone. His palms are slick with sweat. With everyone's attention on the Inquisitor, no one notices as he orders the drone to link to the network and open a contact request. There's a chance she won't accept the call given her perpetual busyness, but relief washes away his panic, as the com-drone unfolds, launches itself into the air, and initiates its projection.

A stunningly beautiful woman resolves above the com-drone. Though only her head is visible, it's more than enough to tell how highborn and geneperfect she is. Her complexion is a rich, dark maroon. Her features are difficult to place, yet somehow familiar and irresistible. It's as if she were the culmination and the combination of all the most beautiful people who ever lived. It isn't far from the truth.

She's Katy LeoAng. Her family, the LeoAngs, have been certified by the Martian Unified Government to be geneperfect specimens whose line must preserved to protect the Martian genepool from radiation-induced degradation. She's also Dimi's fiance.

"Ivan! I've been waiting for you to call. You've no doubt heard about this latest stupidity Dimi has gotten involved in. Do you know what's..." Katy narrows her eyes as she looks around. Ivan had set the com-drone to transmit a wide-frame. "What's going on? What is going on in Frank Mazer's house? Why does it appear that Smiley has been a victim of police brutality?"

Ivan can't resist a thin smile. Katy is not only beautiful, but sharply intelligent. Little surprise that everyone on the planet is in love with her to varying degrees. Perhaps even himself, though he would never be fool enough to admit it in public.

"They were interrogating Smiley under the belief she is an accomplice to Frank's murder," Ivan says. "They have no proof."

"You! You're the commanding officer here, aren't you? Are you interrogating that Decanted individual without proof?" Katy demands of Officer Mala. "If so, perhaps you should know that I am the lead lawyer for LeoAng Associates, and we specialize in cases of Decanted injustice."

"I... ah... no... we weren't doing... not exactly," Officer Mala replies, her confidence wilting. "We were just leaving, but this... this... ah is a Church affair now, so you should direct your questions to Inquisitor Zos."

Katy shifts her gaze accordingly. "Inquisitor? A Church affair, really?"

Inquisitor Zos flashes a smile. He takes his time answering. "Do you question the wisdom of the Church? Is it blasphemy then? I remind you, young lady, not even the LeoAng family is immune to a gene cleansing."

Katy laughs. Even her laugh is perfect and devastatingly dismissive.

"Do threaten me, Inquisitor. Please do. If you are so sure of yourself, go ahead. Do it one more time so I can confirm it to my aunt, the Chancellor of the Martian Unified Government." She cocks her head invitingly. "No? Then perhaps you are aware even the Church must be able to justify its acts. It's something the Church has fallen out of habit of these days. Thus far, the agents of the Church have been well behaved, but one example of poor judgement is all my aunt the Chancellor needs to curtail the Church's authority."

Inquisitor Zos' smile disappears.

"Nothing to say, Inquisitor?" Katy taunts.

"I..." The Inquisitor starts, but suddenly he looks off into the distance as he gets a message. A moment later Officer Mala follows suit as she too is contacted. While Officer Mala turns away to whisper orders under her breath, the Inquisitor's mouth twists into a triumphant smile, as he says,

"Dimi has just escaped from the police."

Katy's expression turns to stone. "And how, pray tell, does that change anything?"

"What! She's all but admitted her guilt! She..."

"Oh? In what way, did she do that? Did she reveal new evidence?"

"The very fact that she escaped..."

"Inconsequential," Katy dismisses. "But maybe the message you received has sudden insight into what we were discussing previously. Has proof of Smiley's involvement miraculously appeared too? Has anything at all changed to justify your illegal and unacceptable practices? No? In that case, I fully expect that you, your goon, and those silly officers will vacate the premises as Ivan has requested. Ivan, when they're gone, call me immediately. We have to talk."

Katy's image winks away. The com-drone whirs back to Ivan's palm and shuts down.

After a full minute of tense silence, Inquisitor Zos spins around in a blur movement. With impossible speed, his face is suddenly seven inches away from Ivan's. He hisses in low voice:

"You fucking Mazers. You're all the same. Worthless genetrash not worth to be thrown to the digesters. You think you and your family are protected now, don't you? Just you wait. We'll catch Dimi. She won't get far. The Inquisition is watching, Ivan Mazer. We know the highest form of heresy is going on. We will destroy you. You, your family, and everything you've touched will be cleansed from the planet."

With that, the Inquisitor stomps out the house, his attendant at his heels. The officers leave as well after a moment of startled incomprehension. They have no idea what just happened. But Ivan has a pretty good idea.

"Nonsense. It's all ridiculous nonsense," Ivan mutters.

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# Chapter 5: On the run

It really is ridiculous nonsense, Dimi thinks, as she dodges another passerby. Swears follow her down her barreling path through the crowd. She can't slow down or else the Martian police will get a lock on her ID tags and track her. A manic grin splits her face. She only regrets she can't take the time to flip everyone off and share the outrageous insults bubbling up in her overheated mind.

She broke free from Officer Aurin and Officer Twelver. It wasn't hard. Just as she thought, she could easily take Officer Aurin in his crappy police mecha-suit. It was his own fault. Typical over-confident sloppiness from a cocky domie-wanker. The proper procedure, especially with potentially dangerous offenders like her, was to have one person secure the legs using titanium webbing while the other person levelled a taser baton at the head. Only then would the hands be bound, and even so with two people, with one of them holding both arms behind the back.

But Officer Aurin figured he could handle Dimi himself with his mecha-suit - even though she's ex-military with anti-insurgency training and deeply imprinted battlereflexes. He probably thought being washed-up and hungover would make her easy pickings. That was all kinds of wrong. Well, not the part about being washed-up and hungover. Dimi can't deny that. A massive headache is still pounding her head, adding stars to her already blurry vision.

His first mistake was waving off Officer Twelver when he offered to help, saying he didn't need backup to take in cave-trash like her. The poor Decanted officer protested, but was yelled off and told to get the transport ready. After that, it was easy to make Officer Aurin even more reckless. Dimi pretended to struggle a bit, forcing him to push her up against the wall. As he grumbled and spat on her, she slumped listlessly as if she was cowed by his strength. As if.

Dimi made her move when he was twisting her around and about to throw manacles over her wrists. But as he yanked on her arms, she shifted her stance just enough to check her distance... and she spun around and nailed him straight in the temple with a beautiful kick. Officer Aurin and his mecha-suit toppled over, crashing to the ground like a stack of scrap metal. Officer Twelver hearing the noise, rushed back, but a quick punch to his solar plexus and the crown of his nose, caused him to crumple to the ground too. Dimi feels bad about having to do that.

She takes a sharp left turn down a service corridor. She leaps through a vent, slides down, and runs across a few old waste-cycling pipes. It's been a while since she's been here, but she's relieved when her route ends in front of a circular blast door. The massive thing is made of concrete sandwiched between plates of steel, lead, and volcanic-tempered ceramic. There are no markings. It looks like the door might have been painted forest green at some point. Whatever's left of that coloring has flaked off into a few small hand-sized patches. One of the green patches, however, isn't paint. Upon closer inspection, it's actually slightly indented into the door. Dimi slams her hand hard onto it, screaming,

"This is Dimi Mazer! Confirm!" Nothing happens. She gnashes her teeth. She was afraid of this. "Goddamn it! Let me in! I need my ID tags deactivated! Janus! I know you're in there! I've got the whole goddamn Martian police force coming down on me, and unless you want them to wonder why I came down to this corner of nowhere, you better let me in!"

That seems to be the winning argument. A chunky thunk sounds from within, followed by a squealing wheel being spun open. Two long seconds later, the door plunks open with a whoosh of pressurized air. It's only a half-meter gap, but it's enough for Dimi to squeeze through. It slams shut immediately after.

"Damn. Damn this fucking shit," Dimi mutters as she catches her breath. She can rest now. Nothing can track her here.

She's just entered an abandoned cave system that was supposed to have been flooded with radioactive gas during the war with the Earthers - hence the blast doors. The air is perfectly breathable. Someone was bribed to mislabel the cave system during the chaos following the war, and ever since it's been the residence for criminals, blackmarketers, and generally anyone wanting to do anything away from the Martian Unified Government and the Church of the Singularity.

Dimi stiffens as the warm muzzle of a plasma rifle is placed against her head.

"You still owe me credits, Dimi," a low, scratchy machine-voice says. The speaker is talking through a set of replacement vocal chords - a common body-mod for former miners. "You know you can't come through without settling your accounts. Does this mean you can pay?"

"Sure, Janus. Sure," Dimi says, as she slowly straightens. "I've got your credits right... here!"

She had it in her head that she would fling herself to the side, simultaneously whipping out an arm to catch the rifle in one hand and sweeping out a leg that would toss Janus on to the floor. But instead, Dimi finds herself with her back on the ground, her head ringing from the impact.

"Slowing down, huh?" Janus chuckles above her with his rifle now pointed at her face. "I remember when you did the exact same move when we first...Oof!"

With a burst of energy Dimi wasn't sure she had, she kicks out Janus' feet from beneath him, and ends up straddling his wide chest with a knee wedged under his chin.

"How... how's that for slow?" she pants, but she relaxes her grip and eases off.

Janus is a big man. His frame is at least twice that of Dimi's and rippling with pleasantly firm muscles. He let her take him down. The man has fast reflexes. Faster even than her battlereflexes, and that's saying something.

For a moment, they enjoy the pleasant warmth that physical contact brings. Dimi caresses his face and traces the pale unpigmented patches around his ears. She's tempted to grind down against him to see if he'd be up for some fun. But the full weight of her phenomenally screwed situation, one that even casual sex can't improve, crashes down on her.

"Sorry I don't have the credits, Janus," Dimi says, offering a hand to help him get up. "I know I owe you, but I'm in a shitty situation right now. I've been accused of murdering Frank."

"They think you killed Frank?" Janus raises a bushy brow. "Shouldn't they give you an award or something?"

"You'd think so, right?" Dimi shakes her head. "Will you let me through? I need my ID tags deactivated to sort it out. I'll pay you back, I promise."

Janus snorts. "No, you're not, Dimi. Any credits you get will disappear as fast as you get them." But he grunts and waves her through before she needs to consider anything drastic. "But killing Frank is worth something I guess, so I'll give you a pass today."

In thanks, Dimi grabs him by the chest and plants a rough kiss, before running off, yelling,

"I'll pay you, Janus! You'll see! I will!"

It's unlikely she will, but calculating the probability of that is that last thing she's thinking of as she hurries through the cave system. The only thing on her mind - now that she can reflect on what was going on - was what the fucking hell was fucking going on. Seriously. What the fucking hell?

The biggest question running through Dimi's mind isn't about who or why Frank was killed. Someone was bound to eventually - if not her. What's bugging her is how she's going to get her money back from Frank now that the cheating son-of-a-bitch is dead. He owes her. He does! At least eight thousand credits! The last time they spoke - or rather, had a screaming match - he said that he'd already paid her for something she tracked down for him, backing up his stupid claim with detailed notes on when and how she received the money. If she were honest, she can't quite remember the details. The more she tried the more they eluded her and left her with a headache.

Dimi pauses as she reaches the opening to a high-ceilinged grotto that's lit by a constellation of scatterlights hanging precariously above. It's the main area where people come to do business. It's a disorganized, haphazard place, with tents and instafab buildings clumped together like bacterial colonies. It's a refreshing change from the rigid, perfectly planned, safety-regulated dwellings and shops that the Martian Unified Government imposes on every habitat for bogus reasons like "efficiency," "limited resources," and "hygiene." Dimi loves it. Though granted, the place may have periodic outbreaks of Martian Pox and C. difficile extremis.

She walks around a congregation of food stalls, past a brothel, and into a narrow alley that ends with the rough, unfinished wall of the grotto. Thumping music blares from the open doors of a dingy club to the left. It's very dirty, even by Martian standards. The ever-present dirt and grime is not only present, but caked into every visible surface. The front walkway is sticky with a concoction of blood, booze, and mystery bodily fluids. As Dimi knows from experience, they're all signs that the place not only throws the best parties, but is also where everyone comes to hire specialists in illicit activities, such as tech-modders.

It takes a minute for Dimi's eyes to adjust to the low lighting in the club. Looking around, she sees the usual crowd of tired hookers, gamblers, and thugs. They're mostly Decanted, naturally. She scans the room for the less glitzy corners, settling on a group of people wearing work-mecha jumper suits and hunched over glasses of watery beer. They're off-duty factory workers, and it's likely they're here to do some tech-modding jobs on the side. They'll do.

But Dimi's plans are instantly forgotten, when a familiar voice whispers into her ear,

"Care to join me for a drink, Dimi?"

Her eyes go wide.

"Greta?" She turns and sweeps the woman into her arms. Before she knows it, she's locked in a wet, tongue-filled embrace, her hands travelling up and down Greta's body. It's as strong and firm as she remembered it. She has half a mind to tear off both their clothes to be sure.

"Hold it, hold it. We're not alone here." Greta says pushing Dimi back with a laugh. Grabbing her hand, she walks them both into an isolated booth. Silence locks in around them as Greta activates the booth's privacy-mode.

"Fancy seeing you here," Dimi grins. "We can be alone, you know. They've got rooms upstairs we can rent."

Greta peers at her. "Yeah? With what credits?"

"I have credits! I have them! I mean... I'll get them," Dimi's smile falters. "The credits are coming to me..."

"From who? Are you going to get them from your fabulously wealthy fiance Katy?" Greta asks cruelly.

Dimi face darkens. "No, not that from that bitch! I want nothing to do with her! It's Frank! Frank owes me..."

"Frank? Your father? The dead one? The one people think you killed? Or are you talking about another Frank?"

Dimi gnashes her teeth.

"I didn't do it."

"That's not what it looks like, Dimi." Greta raises a hand to stop Dimi's protests. "I want to believe you, but you have to admit there aren't a lot of suspects. The evidence so far is pretty damning."

"I was in my room all night!" Dimi all but yells. "My ID tags will prove it! And I haven't seen my mecha-suit in ages. It can't have been me. Someone's setting me up!"

Greta gives her a hard stare. "Are you sure you were in your room all night? Are you sure you didn't set up a decoy signal?"

"Not this again! You know I can't do that on my own! I'd have to hire someone to do it and..."

"Dimi. You know that's not true." Greta says sharply. "You could do it if you wanted to, especially if you had access to your mecha-suit. It may be an old model, but it's perfectly capable of setting up a decoy signal."

"Yeah, sure but..."

"Or you could have skipped that step, and had the mecha-suit kill Frank remotely. Since your mecha-suit is coded to you, you could have sent it a signal and ordered it to do the insertion for you."

"That's ridiculous! I told you that I haven't seen my mecha-suit in..."

"That you remember, right?"

"That I remember, yes, so that..."

"Dimi, how is your memory these days?"

Dimi is unable to answer. Not unable. Unwilling. Her memory these days is pretty awful. Just the thought of trying to remember things causes her temples to throb.

Unlike regular work-mechas, piloting military mecha-suits involve interfacing directly with the mecha's operations node. It's the only way for the connection to be seamless, and for the response time to be quick enough for the mechas to be useful in battle. The interface uses a direct-stimuli skullcap that forms a two-way electrical bond between machine and human. Long term exposure to the added stimuli strains the user's synaptic connections, and inevitably overloads the human brain. In some cases, it causes users to be mentally unstable, and occasionally burns them out into vegetables.

"My memory is fine. I pass all the tests," Dimi grunts. She rubs her temples and shuts her eyes. "Fine. I'm marginal, but the tests show that I'm legally functional. Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that nothing you said is possible because it would involve me..."

"Going onto the network? Sending out a ping to your mecha-suit to let it know that you're about to send it orders?" Greta says, as Dimi stares at her transfixed. "Then you'll tell it to retrieve the orders from a datacache with instructions on how to evade Frank's security system and disable his housedrone. To cover your tracks, you put a mnemonic lockdown on your memories so you can legitimately say you don't remember anything. That's easy enough. All that sound possible to you?"

It takes a bit for the gears in Dimi's mind to work out what Greta said. What she suggests is entirely possible. She'd never fully considered all those steps for some reason. Could it be that she actually did and had wiped it out of her own mind with a mnemonic lock? That isn't possible, she tells herself again. Wouldn't there be some signs of that or a clue she'd leave herself to say she's missing some memories? But isn't that exactly what she would do to wipe the evidence of her killing Frank?

Her thoughts spin, suddenly unsure of everything, but then she realizes,

"Hey, wait a minute. How could you even know all this?" Dimi asks. "It's not common knowledge that we have the capabilities to control our thoughts or our mechas that way. How could you know this in such detail, unless..." She claps her hands exultantly. "You're special forces aren't you! You are! I knew it! Only someone in the service would know! I knew there was a reason why I found you so hot!"

Greta's expression is blank, but this doesn't stop Dimi.

"Let me guess... you're part of the Hunter Corps, right? No, wait. That can't be right. They don't accept Decanted, the fuckers. Wait wait wait. I have it! You gotta be part of the Primer Corp then. I know those guys! Even served with them for a bit! Right? Right? Am I right?" Dimi winks and lowers her voice into a loud whisper. "But don't worry! I won't tell anyone! Your secret is safe with me! Ha! I bet you're undercover or something, trying to figure out who really killed Frank. That's it isn't it? But why Frank? What's he done that's bringing this kind of attention? Is that why you were hanging out with that piece of shit when I found you? Who the hell cares about that fartbag?"

Dimi waves the air angrily, as if Frank himself had just passed gas. She suddenly brightens as her mind switches direction again.

"This is great! It means we can get out of here faster! See, I was going to use part of the money Frank owes me to pay off your Life Debt, but since you're part of the service, you can just cut your ties and disappear! It's not easy, and we'd be on the run the whole time, but it'll be fun!"

She hooks Greta by the waist and reels her in.

"You and me. We can get out of here. Get away from this bullshit. We can be free. We can party it up just like we did that time when we went up to that fancy-pants spa in the Chryse Plains. I guess we'll have to go to another one since they banned us... but whatever! It'll be fun! We can start a new life! Whaddayasay?"

Greta's cold facade cracks a tiny smile. But she pushes herself away, shaking her head sadly.

"Oh, Dimi..."

"What? Don't you think that we can? I..."

"Dimi. Shut up for a second, ok?" Greta is back to being serious. "You are accused of murder. There's nothing that can happen until that's fixed. You need to lie low and stay out of sight. Here. Take this. It's enough to get your ID tags deactivated."

Dimi looks down. Greta is handing her a burner-chip. The slim datachip is used to exchange encrypted credits. Its octagonal shape suggest it holds five hundred credits. Dimi grins widely.

"Does this mean you..."

Greta silences Dimi with a fierce kiss that engulfs her senses. When she opens her eyes to ask for more, Greta is walking briskly out of the club.

Dimi clutches the burner-chip in her hand. This solves only part of her problems. Greta is right that the murder charges against have to be resolved. But that doesn't concern Dimi one bit. She's certain she'll be vindicated sooner or later. What she really needs is the credits to start her new life with Greta.

And, in a sudden flash of brilliance, she knows where to find her money. An Earther artifact! That's the solution! She has to talk to talk to her artifact dealer and get a marker!

It's been almost a year now since she's hunted an artifact down - coincidentally about the same time that she last spoke to that fucker Frank. Her tracking skills may be rusty, but she'll figure it out. But one way or the other that Earther artifact is good as hers!

Yes! Not only will she soon get a big ol'payout, but she'll also get away with Greta!

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# Chapter 6: Hope in the darkest places

"Arrival to station 44C, sublevel 21," a disembodied voice announces.

The tube pod doors swish open, a few dozen passengers unstrap and disembark, and an equal number trundle in to take their places.

Aly is on the low-fare tube transport system. It's largely used by Decanted workers commuting to and from their factory jobs. Instead of going straight from the bottom levels to the top like the rapid-transit system, its routes meander through the slum districts and skirt along the outer edges of the cavern-habitats.

The fare, of course, is cheaper. But money isn't the reason Aly decided to take it. It's so he could witness snipets of conversation things like,

"She gave birth yesterday! A beautiful girl!" a woman beams. She's talking to a mixed group of adults, all returning the woman's smiles. Unlike the others, her clothes are clean, suggesting she's on the way to her job.

"How is Linda doing?"

"Oh, perfect! The birth was easy!" the woman bats a hand. "I bet she'll want to go to work tomorrow."

The group chuckles.

"That sounds like Linda," someone says. "Your wife is tough."

"Toughest between the two of us for sure!"

"Show us some pictures!"

"Sure! Just a sec..."

As the woman rummages for her com-drone, Aly notices a young couple a few seats over is also listening intently. They're holding hands and sitting as close as their shoulder-straps allow. When the vid of a healthy baby cradled in a proud-looking woman's arms resolves over the com-drone, the couple look to each other and smile. Aly guesses they're going to the fertility clinic soon, where they'll be mixing their germline cells, correcting any radiation-caused mutation errors, and producing an embryo to be implanted in a womb. As they share a tender kiss, Aly grins and turns away to give them some privacy.

These are the moments that Aly came for. He knows he should have taken a rapid-transit tube transport and gotten to his father's place in half the time. But he just couldn't, no matter how urgent Ivan says it is for him to be there. He desperately needs to lift his spirits before moving forward. That isn't too much to ask is it? It's moments like these that the Church promises will uplifted forevermore when the Singularity comes. Surely, he can't faulted to this tiny bit of positivity so he could process the horror of his father being permanently denied the Great Infinity?

But then the conversation turns:

"Hey! Did you hear? That fucker Frank Mazer is dead!" the woman says, slapping her leg with glee. "Fuck yeah!"

"What? Are you kidding? Why didn't I hear of this?" one of the men says, his eyes wide. "When did it happen?"

"This morning," another woman says. "How couldn't you have heard? It's on all the newsfeeds."

"How do you think? I was working my third job," the man scowls, but with a bemused snort, his face cracks into a grin as he adds: "A job that Frank forced me take to service my interest rates. This is phenomenal! Do they know who did it? I should buy them a drink."

"They say his daughter did it."

"What?!? Are you kidding?"

"Yeah, word is she stabbed him with a neuro-disruptor and crushed his skull. No brainscan for the old bastard."

"Ha! Serves him right. Hey, Mina, doesn't he hold your debt too?"

"Me and my whole family's. Fucker. Tried to get me join his brothels twice now. I tell you, we're breaking out the fancy yeast cakes tonight."

"No shit, I bet you half the lower levels are celebrating!"

Aly should have anticipated that he would encounter his father's debtors here. Of course, he doesn't think their hatred of Frank is misplaced or unfair. Of all people, Aly knows the terrible injustices that his father subjected his debtors to. He's seen much of it in person. His father had subjected him to many of his "estate visits" as a child to "toughen him up." But the visceral hate is still difficult to bear.

"Arrival to station 20C, sublevel 5."

Aly unstraps and exits the pod, following his co-travelers into a large, circular transfer area. The crowd is dense with over a three hundred people walking a few inches from each other. It's humid and hot, but very orderly. A dozen surveillance drones are latched on the ceiling, ready to drop down and electrocute any troublemakers into submission before the police arrive.

Lost in thought, he nearly collides into a small crowd standing stock-still. They're watching a grainy vid being projected by a hovering com-drone.

"Are you tired of your Life Debt? Does it look like it will never end no matter how hard you work? Will we Decanted never break our shackles and be free?" the image of a Decanted woman demands, fiercely gesticulating with her hands.

There's nothing particularly unusual about her. Like many Decanted, she's slightly emaciated and under-nourished, but this doesn't appear to have affected her vigor. Aly imagines she's part of an advertisement for some kind of debt-restructuring plan or an income opportunity. He's about to walk away when,

"It's time to reject their lies and their false promises!" the woman cries. "They say they can upload our minds and that their precious Singularity is coming. But when? How long will it take? The answer is never!" Aly freezes. Some of the listeners grumble in agreement. "Consider how much it costs for us to get our brainscans deposited in their silly Vault of Minds. It's just putting us into more debt! It's another scheme to enslave us! It's time for us to make our own fates and build our own futures on the surface of Mars!"

Ah. Like Ivan, she's a Non-Singularist. Unlike Ivan though, she doesn't have a black arm band, meaning she isn't officially sanctioned. Soon the com-drone will be deactivated, but not before she's identified and heavily fined.

Aly shakes his head.

Officially, the Non-Singularists represent less than one percent of the population. But he knows better. He's been encountering more and more people promoting Non-Singularist propaganda in the hallways. Their message is typically smuggled in on com-drones, but he's come across a few people bold enough to proselytize in person. It's a drastic change from just a decade ago when mere mention of anything against the Church of the Singularity would have led to widespread outrage and breathless coverage on the media decrying the blasphemy.

Suddenly, Aly's vision goes dark and flashes three times. It's a call request. But where his requests usually flash white, this one flashed red. It's a priority call. Aly frowns. The only people who can flag a call as a priority are either be the police or the Church of the Singularity. Stepping into a secluded corner, he accepts the call.

The face of a very old, very gaunt man resolves in Aly's vision. His small, beady eyes are glaring with such angry intensity that Aly immediately looks away. But in vain. The old man is locked into his vision.

"So. You're supposed to be one of us, eh?" the old man growls. "I'm supposed to trust some doe-eyed novitiate?"

"Excuse me? Do I..."

"You are Novitate Aly Mazer, aren't you? Or are you a useless stuttering fool?"

"I... Who are you..."

"I am Inquisitor Zos." His image zooms out to show the rust-red garment of his office. "Ah, got your attention now, didn't I? Well? I asked you a question! Do you have an answer?"

Aly shakes himself. "Yes! I am Novitiate Aly Mazer. My serial number is 90285-34..."

"Shut up."

Aly shuts up. The inquisitor wrinkles his nose and sneers, and seems about to dismiss him, but after a visible internal struggle, he concedes,

"I suppose you'll have to do."

"Inquisitor? I..."

"Aly Mazer, I am requesting that you help me in my investigation," Inquisitor Zos places a hand on his chest and performs a mock-bow.  "I'd like to order you to do so, but since you're a novitiate and not yet inducted as a Church official, I can't do that. Yet. I've long petitioned the Church to extend our powers for situations like these, but as you can see nothing has happened and I, a goddamned Inquisitor, must ask a novitiate to help me. Well? Are you going to help or not?"

Aly hesitates only a fraction of a second before eagerly replying, "Yes! Inquisitor! Yes! Of course I will help you! I am devoted servant of the Church! I only wish to..."

"Enough." The inquisitor says, arching a brow as he seems to re-appraise him. Aly stands straighter. "Good. It seems what your supervisor said about you was correct. Excellent. If you help me, you must do so without question. Do you understand?"

Aly nods. He most definitely is willing to do as the Inquisitor says.

"Alright then, I'll accept your services. Don't disappoint me," Inquisitor Zos says pointing his bony finger at Aly.

"Inquisitor! I assure you! I will only be the most reliable helper! I can do anything you ask! I..."

"Aly," the Inquisitor rolls his eyes. "This will go a lot smoother if you don't punctuate everything I say with bullshit about your devotion, ok? We have work to do."

"Yes, of course. I apologize, Inquisitor." Aly forces himself to be calm. "What is it that you wish me to do?"

Instead of answering, Inquisitor Zos asks, "How well do you know your sister?"

"My sister? Dimi?" Aly thinks hard. "Not very well, I'm afraid. We haven't talked much these last few years."

The Inquisitor's face sours. "Then you don't know where she may hide, do you? Or what she's been doing since she left the service."

"I... ah... No, Inquisitor," Aly says sadly, desperately adding, "Dimi isn't guilty though! She's a good person! She would never murder our father!"

The Inquisitor snorts, "That's why she ran then, right?"

"She ran? What do you mean? How could..."

"Oh, you didn't hear? She broke free from the police while she was being arrested. What do you think of that?"

Aly has no response.

"I thought so," the Inquisitor sneers. "Fine. I suppose that's not much of a surprise. What about your brother? Do you know him well?"

"Ivan?" Aly wracks his brain for anything. "I'm afraid we aren't very close either. Our family was never very close. After we left our father's home..."

"I'm aware of your father," the Inquisitor growls and falls silent.

With a sinking fear that he's completely useless and the Inquisitor will end up rescinding his request to help, Aly blurts out,

"Sir, would it be possible to know more about you are looking for? Perhaps then I might be able to tell you something that could be helpful." Aly's mind desperately tries to pull threads together. "This is about my father's murder, isn't it? There was something about his death that's related to the Church, isn't there? It must have or else the Church wouldn't be getting the Inquisition involved. However, I can't imagine that it has to do with father's death itself. He's had death threats before, but that was over his loan sharking. If that's the case then the police could have handled it. So if it's not about his death... It's more likely about something he's done leading up to it... Maybe something that he's purchased or something he's learned? Father was always interested in the Earthers. He'd always paid far more attention to them than was healthy. And he often bought Earther artifacts too. Did he get something dangerous? Is that it? Something that threatens the Singularity?"

After a moment, the Inquisitor gives Aly a grudging nod.

"Not bad. Maybe you can be useful. It seems you're not a complete imbecile." Inquisitor Zos rubs his chin. "You don't have the clearance for me to confirm or deny anything you've suggested. However, you are correct that I am investigating Frank Mazer's death because the very success of Singularity is under threat. I am here to resolve it and preserve our path to the Great Infinity. Do you understand?" Aly nods vigorously. "Here is what you can do for me: I need Dimi. Alive. I need to talk to her. That is vital. Whatever you can do that will lead me to her will be helpful. Understand?"

"Yes, of course, Inquisitor. I..."

"If you can lead me to her, I promise that you will be rewarded." The Inquisitor continues, raising his chin. "I will speak for you to be admitted as a full member in the Church of the Singularity. I will also personally ensure that you and your family's place the Vault of Minds is guaranteed and that you will be placed amongst the first to be uploaded once the Singularity comes. Understood? Then I expect to hear from you soon with good news, novitiate Aly."

As soon as the inquisitor ends the connection, Aly's heart soars.

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# Chapter 7: Useless

"This is everything?" Ivan waves his hand over the neatly stacked piles on the tables.

"Yes," Smiley replies. Her brow raises as if to say, "And?"

But Ivan returns to the line of questioning that he's explored twice already,

"Nothing else from the panic room?"

"No."

"No hidden compartments?"

"None that I know of."

"Frank never mentioned anything to you?"

"Why would he?"

"I suppose the police would have found anything else with their scanners."

"I suppose they would."

"So everything that was in the panic room is out here, and it's all been catalogued and recorded."

Smiley adds nothing, continuing to stare at him with her one eye that isn't bruised and swollen shut. The corner of her bloodied mouth twitches into something insolently close to a smirk.

Something in Ivan wants to slap her and continue the pummeling the police had started in their interrogation. Although she hasn't said anything, the way she's been acting and the things she's been saying have the irritating suggestion that she knows something he doesn't - or worse, she knows something that Ivan should know too. Both of which is at all possible.

"Since no one else has been allowed into Frank's panic room, and since he's never kept records of his belongings in there, there's no way to know if there's anything missing." Ivan feels perfectly idiotic making such an obvious statement, but he has an irrepressible urge to state it aloud. "There's no way of knowing what the killer could have stolen. Therefore, we're denied more information that could tell us about the motives of Frank's murder."

Smiley shrugs. "Dimi did it for the money, didn't she?"

"Money? You think this is for money? You still believe what those incompetent police are saying about Dimi? I thought you were better than that." Ivan allows himself a bit of satisfaction as Smiley flushes.

"But why else would Dimi run?" she says sullenly. "Why would she break out if she's innocent?"

"Many reasons. She probably thought that she wouldn't be treated fairly," Ivan replies. "Or, more likely, she's an idiot who ran for some stupid reason and is now trying to figure out what she'll be doing next."

"Fine... so if not for more money, then why did Dimi..." Smiley corrects herself. "...why else would... they kill Frank?"

Ivan nods approvingly. "Good. I see you're getting it, Smiley. 'They' is exactly right. There is a high likelihood that whoever killed Frank must have acted with someone else. This level of planning and inside knowledge couldn't have been just one person acting alone." He waves his hand again. "And why not money? Look at what's here. There's too much that's valuable and easily untraceable. It doesn't make sense that they would leave so much. With all that mind, it doesn't make sense that Dimi is the killer. Desperate loser that she is, there's no way she could have stopped herself from ransacking the place."

He raises a finger to stop Smiley's reply. "You're thinking that maybe the killer was limited in terms of what they could carry. But if the killer came with the intent to steal, wouldn't they have come with a transit container to carry as much as possible? The surveillance vid showed nothing of the sort. It showed them killing Frank, grabbing something from out frame, and then leaving shortly after. Whatever they took, it was something small."

"Or," Smiley says, "the killer left this amount of valuables to make it appear as if they weren't interested in money to throw us off and make us assume there was some other motive."

"Perhaps," Ivan concedes very much unwillingly. It's an unwelcome possibility. It's even more unwelcome that Smiley used the term 'us.'

To keep himself from doing anything that would be beneath him, he steps forward and inspects the tables. It's covered in Frank's riches from the alcove. The old man was richer than anyone had suspected. Stacks of burner-chips are everywhere, in both the typical octagonal five hundred-credit denomination and hexagonal thousand-credit denomination. Loosely arrayed and stacked on the table is a hoard of precious metals and gems. They're all in convenient, transportable formats, from hand-sized gold ingots, to diamond wafers, to silver half-rods. All the easier to do shady business deals. There's probably two million credits worth of riches here, all of it untraceable.

But that's mere window-dressing compared to the mess of Earther artifacts stacked on the adjacent table. Most of it looks like junk to Ivan's untrained eye. As far as he can tell they're random pieces of plastic and metal. Some of it is vaguely human-shaped and covered by threadbare fabric. Others are long and cylindrical and covered with a kind of mate gloss. None of it has any discernible function let alone use. And yet, people are willing to pay huge sums to own these things. Then again, even Ivan is suitably awed when he reaches out to touch a brownish sculpture. It's smooth and yet oddly textured with subtle, repeating ridges within it. It's in the shape of a beast he knows to call a 'horse.' It's the first time that he's touched a sculpture made of real, botanical wood.

Like many among the wealthier Martian classes, Frank accumulated a respectable collection of Earther artifacts. Though illegal and considered blasphemy by the Church of the Singularity, a thriving underground market does its best to satisfy rich people's urge to own the forbidden. It's relatively simple to get an artifact. An item can be selected from a semi-secret catalogue, and a dealer then delivers it if they have it in stock, and if not, they commission an artifact-hunter to find it. Cultural artifacts are the most common, like toys or re-compiled music files, but the most sought out items are authentic war relics of Earth-Mars War scavenged from the battlefields.

A knobby, pock-marked sphere catches Ivan's eye. It's about the size of his fist, and bluish-chrome with a brushed-steel finish. There are no markings or visible attachments. There's no reason to think it's anything other than an old, chewed-up ball-bearing. But Ivan's breath catches. Could it be it? If he still had his implants, he would know in an instant, but now he needed to...

"What's going to happen now?" Smiley asks.

Ivan jerks his hand away.

"Happen? About what? About this stuff? About the investigation? What? Be more specific."

Smiley purses her lips. She seems about to say something, but instead attempts a nonchalant shrug.

"All of it, I guess. Don't you own it all now?"

Ivan eye twitches as his usually plentiful selection of retorts come up with nothing. Because Smiley is right. Everything that Frank once owned is his, as he'd pointed out to great effect to the police. But what exactly he should do with it all is unclear to even him, as he'd not have time to consider all the ramifications.

"I have my plans," Ivan says.

That should have been sufficient, but Smiley continues to look at him as if expecting him to say more. It's infuriating.

"Listen, Smiley..." And then it hits him. He realizes what she wants. "You're wondering about your Life Debt, aren't you? You're wondering if I'm going to cancel it for you, since I hold it now." He strikes a thoughtful pose. "But how can I? And with what money? I'm not even sure what it is that I own, let alone if there's enough to pay off your debt."

"No money?" Smiley blinks, looking at the riches around them.

"You're not thinking of using that illegal form of credits, are you?" Ivan sniffs. "Surely you know that the police has tagged it all. If we make any attempt to use it, it'll be flagged. Then none of us will have anything. For all intents and purposes, everything here is worthless. No, the only form of credits that's accessible are in Frank's accounts... and they're so messy that it's impossible to tell if he has money coming to him, or if he's in debt, or where his money is being held. I hate to say it, but for us to make any progress on it, Aly will need to use his implants... and that's assuming he isn't as useless with them as I think he is."

Ivan taps his chin. "But for the sake of argument, let us assume that Frank's accounts are sorted and there is an excess of credits that can be used. What then? The first thing that comes to mind is that your Life Debt isn't the only one I own now. You're probably one of thousands that Frank bought up over the years. If I cancelled yours, I'd have to cancel the other Decanted Life Debts too, wouldn't I? Otherwise, it wouldn't be fair. That's a huge amount of credits I would be forgiving. It's no small commitment. I'd have to look carefully into that before doing anything rash."

Smiley scowls, but Ivan is pleased to see that her insolence has lowered a few notches.

"But that's a false equivalency, isn't it? I should be able to consider your case separate from everyone else's, shouldn't I? Alight, Smiley, I'll forgive your Life Debt as soon as I can." Ivan says, casually flipping a hand in the air. If saying so is enough to chase the woman away, he's glad to say the words. He may even do it. Assuming he's in a good mood after examining the sphere.

But Smiley throws another comment out of the blue at him.

"What about the Non-Singularist movement?"

Ivan frowns.

"What about it?"

"Aren't you going to use the money to fund a colony on the surface?" Smiley's one eye studies him far too intently.

Once again, Ivan's retorts fail him. It's then that he realizes why it is that he's feeling such animosity towards her.

It might not seem like it, but it was only a couple of months ago that Ivan had met Smiley in person for the first time. Of course, he'd heard about her. Who hadn't? She was Frank's alleged bastard child with a Decanted woman. His classmates in preparatory school had mocked him endlessly about it. It was one more reason to avoid going home, so he never did and never ended up meeting this Decanted hybrid creature.

But many things changed after he left the university. For one thing, he'd donned the black armband of the Non-Singularists. For another, he had significantly more time on his hands with him being banned from all the research networks and having his implants wrenched from him. But worse - so very much worse - he suddenly found himself surrounded by people with barely the education to have a decent conversation. What little minds he encountered were pathetic. Their words, their thoughts, their beliefs were embarrassingly childish and primitive. He longed for the endless debates and intellectual rigor that he could expect from his former colleagues.

This was how he found himself in the seediest dive bars he could find on the lowest level of the cavern-habitats. Sitting himself down in the bar, Ivan started chatting with the patrons around him. But he wasn't having idle conversations about the price of yeast patties. He was preaching. He was convincing everyone he talked to become a Non-Singularist. In any other context doing so would be too dangerous, but there, among the most worthless of society, no one cared what they thought. Eventually, Ivan nurtured enough people to be able to regularly engage in the kinds of conversations he'd been missing. It might not be at the same caliber as before, but it was something.

It was among his "followers" that he met Smiley. When she'd reluctantly admitted who she was one day after his lectures, she dared him to refuse teaching her. Ivan was very amused. He pointed out that he couldn't possibly refuse her, since she represented the future of the Non-Singularist movement in a very literal sense. If colonies were going to survive on the surface of a properly terraformed planet, then it would be inevitable that Decanted and genenorms would have to breed. The silly ugliness gene-prejudice would be a thing of the past. It was a particularly good rhetorical flourish that even Ivan found convincing. Smiley lapped it up, and became one of his most regular listeners and ardent believers.

To Ivan, the things he said was little more than many piles of gilded feces that were quickly forgotten. But he supposes Smiley didn't know that. She probably took him seriously. And now she thought he was stupid enough to use Frank's wealth for the Non-Singularist cause.

But he's spared having to deal with Smiley's expectant gaze and fantastical hopes any further when the sounds of metallic steps and squeaky pistonning enter the room, causing both of them to turn. It's M4ry, the household drone. Despite all these years, it's still walking on its factory-issue quadripede chassis. It's bulky, loud, with all the gangly awkwardness of a giant retrovirus.

"What is it?" Ivan says. "Didn't I say we weren't to be disturbed?"

M4ry swivels the top half of its pill-shaped body so its main optical receptors face him. "Apologies for the intrusion, Ivan Mazer. Your brother, Aly Mazer is requesting entry."

"Requesting? Why doesn't he just come in?"

"He does not have the permissions," M4ry explains. "Since ownership of the house has passed to you, the entry permissions have been reset. Would you like me to add Aly to the approved visitors list and allow him entry?"

"Yes, fine. Do it."

Ivan closes his eyes. He realizes he hasn't answered Smiley's question. He doesn't know what to say. Ivan scowls and gnashes his teeth. None of this is relevant. He has no time for any of this. Not for Smiley, for the Non-Singularity, and even less for Dimi and his murdered father. He must get Smiley away, and he must have time to inspect that sphere.

So he's surprisingly thankful when Aly enters the room and pulls Smiley in for a hug:

"Hi Smiley! It's been so long! It's so great to see you!" Aly says. But, noticing the bruising on her face, he says, "Oh, dear! Your face! What happened! It's the police isn't it? It's so shocking what they do to Decanted. It never stops. I just don't understand how they can ignore the Church's teaching that we will be one in the Great Infinity. It's so disappointing." He turns to Ivan, who quickly steps back to avoid any physical contact. "I'm so sorry it took so long for me to get here, Ivan. I... don't have a good excuse. But I'm here now! What can I do to help? Oh, before I forget, did you notice how shaky M4ry is? We should be sending to get tuned up, don't you think? I know father always skimped on her maintenance schedule and..." He blinks when sees the riches arrayed on the table. "What... what is all this? Is this Frank's?"

Ivan rolls his eyes. "Yes, Aly. This is all Frank's."

"But... these are Earther artifacts aren't they?" Aly's eyes are wide with horror. "They're banned by the government and they're considered to be sins by the Church!"

Ivan rolls his eyes again. He's reminded why he limits his interactions with Aly. The silly fool has always been a pathetic sentimental sop. Not only did he treat Smiley like an actual relative - without any proof - he insists on genderzing their household drone, going so far as to use "she" and "her" pronouns. Because weren't they all brothers and sisters in the Great Infinity and weren't all consciousnesses going to be recognized and raised in the Singularity?

"Where could he have gotten all these horrible things?" Aly continues. "This is terrible! Are they really his, though? Could they have been someone else's?"

"They're his, Aly," Ivan says. "They're no one else's. Clearly, our father had more dealings than we thought."

"But..." Aly's expression clouds. "What should we do about them? Should we be giving it to the police as evidence? We should be getting rid of it, shouldn't we? But how though? I'll have to talk to Inquisitor Zos about this. He'll know what to do. He'll know how..."

"Aly." Ivan pinches the top of his nose. "Will you calm down? It'll be fine. The police have catalogued and tagged everything. And besides, no one cares about these artifacts. They're just junk that the uppercrusts like to play around with. The police didn't bat an eye when they saw all this."

"Yes, but..."

"Aly, be quiet for a second. I called you here because I need your help sorting out Frank's accounts, not listen to you whine. I need you to interface with his files and..." Ivan pauses. "What did you say before about Inquisitor Zos?"

"The Inquisitor?" Aly says brightly. "I said that he could help us out and..."

"Help us? You think that... Aly. How do you know Inquisitor Zos?"

"Why, he contacted me, of course!"

"When?"

"Well... maybe a half hour ago?"

"What did he want?"

"He was asking me if I could help him!"

"...Repeat the whole conversation to me."

Ivan is expressionless as Aly tell him how the Inquisitor contacted him. His face remains frozen even when Aly ends his recounting with,

"...and he promised that if I could give him useful information about how to find Dimi he would reward us! He said he'll guarantee our place in the Vault of Minds!" Aly says excitedly. "I know you no longer believe in the Singularity, Ivan... but still! Surely you can see how this is an incredible opportunity! Our family will be redeemed in the Great Infinity!"

A long minute of silence follows. It's broken when Smiley says,

"If there is no use for me, I'll be excusing myself and going back to my apartment. My work shift here is over."

No one stops her as she leaves.

In raspy voice, Ivan says,

"Aly, make yourself useful and use your implants to start deciphering Frank's assets. We need to know how everything stands. I've given M4ry instructions to open Frank's systems to you. If you're not sure how, you can use the SysFile option that you call up by going through your main Ops menu and finding the statistics module. Let me know when you're done."

Ivan stalks out before Aly can reply. If he stayed any longer, it's possible there would have been a second murder in the room. The Inquisitor! That damned naive idiot is working for the Inquisitor now! But of course the Inquisitor would have reached out to Aly expecting that a wide-eyed novitiate would do as he says - and that's exactly what happened.

He only hopes the task he gave Aly will occupy him long enough. It's tedious work. There are probably thousands of files to go through. When Ivan first contacted Aly, he thought it would be critical to do. He thought that only with the aid of Aly's implants would he be able to thoroughly comb through Frank's secret accounts. But, after surveying the things taken from the panic room, he now realizes that he was wrong.

What he's looking for won't be in Frank's files either.

With the sphere in his pocket, he makes his way to the rapid transit tube station that will bring him to the lower levels. The thing is useless. He knew it just by picking it up. He was hoping to feel a tell-tale staticky spark, but it was cool and inert. It's dead.

However, Aly's arrival hadn't been a complete waste of time. His simple, innocent questions gave Ivan an idea. How indeed did Frank get his Earther artifacts and where are the rest of them?

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# Chapter 8: Scrambling for solutions

As Dimi hoped, none of the security drones flag her. On her way out from the blackmarket, she did her best to avoid them, using poorly maintained hallways and corridors with flickering lighting; but as she neared the more populated habitats, she had no choice but to test the tech-modding work she'd paid for. Thankfully, the off-duty Decanted worker did a good job, and her ID tag proved to be properly deactivated.

Dimi grins. She's free to go anywhere she pleases! It's like she has a whole new life ahead of her. Not just any ol'life, she adds happily. If she plays her cards right, she'll have a brand new life with Greta!

As soon as the hallway opens up into a larger collecting zone, Dimi quickens her pace and heads deeper into the thickest part of the crowd. She takes a winding path and backtracks a couple of times to make sure no one is following her. She's fairly sure no one has caught on to her, but her habits from insurgency training are hard to break. It's always possible someone hired a special operative kitted out with body-mods that include enhanced olfactory nerves that could track her pheromones. Her training may have made her paranoid. That is, more paranoid than she would be anyway, given that she's on the run from the Martian police.

A side opening takes her through another long corridor and down a set of rough-hewn staircases. It opens up to a habitat that's unhealthily dark with a handful of scatterlights attached to the ceiling. It's technically illegally dark. By order of the Martian Unified Government, every cavern-habitat must provide full-spectrum lighting to all inhabitants to ensure functional diurnal body functions. But this cavern is on the lowest possible level and the furthest away from the main habitats. Only the poorest and most unwanted Decanted live here, and none of them can afford to think about such fanciful things such as "health." It's also where Dimi can find her artifact dealer.

Navigating piles of refuse, she heads to the main plaza. Not many businesses manage to persist on the lower levels besides money lenders, pawnshops, and of course bars. Dimi walks past two relatively respectable pay-loan shops with cleanish storefronts, but then slows as she nears a bar that barely has any light coming out of from its open door. It's so dark, it's hard to tell if the place is open.

She peeks in. She's trying to see if there's any sign of an ambush. It looks like the usual crowd of Decanted drinkers. But that's what it would look like if there is an ambush in there, wouldn't it? Dimi shakes her head of the racing, conspiracy-filled imaginings. Still, as she walks in, she tenses her battlereflexes and...

...nothing. It's fine. She's safe.

Feeling stupid, Dimi quickly steps away from the entrance before people notice her. She has to look like she belongs. Her dealer doesn't know she's coming, and she doesn't want to fight off any surprised, freaked-out reactions. It's also been almost a year since she's been here, so she needs to know if a new powerbroker has muscled in and introduced new inconveniences like fees for conducting artifact-hunting business. She signals a server-drone for a drink and finds a seat in a quiet corner.

"...and he just told me that it was my fault and I had pay for it! When I know - I know - that he was the one who was supposed to do the calibration of the mecha assembly-line," a Decanted woman a fist on her forehead and grimaces.

"How bad is it?" a Decanted man says from beside her.

"Ten mechas had to be trashed because of his dumb-ass error," the first woman replies. "Fortunately, they were only baseline worker-mechas. I'd be really screwed if they were any military models. But I'm the one getting fined! I'm the one who's having my pay docked!"

"Bullshit. That's some serious bullshit."

"Yeah!"

"Is there no way to find records to prove your case?" another woman asks.

The first woman shakes her head, "He deleted them. He's in the clear."

"Asshole!"

"Yeah."

"He's a Seventeener, isn't he? I never trusted those guys. It's like they added an extra dose of slavishness into them."

"How are you doing money wise?" the man asks.

"Not great," the first woman sighs. "We may not be able to pay rent. My daughter's pregnant too."

"I can spot you," someone offers from another table.

"No, I..." the woman starts to refuse.

"I can too. I just got paid," another person says.

"I don't need..."

"But you do. And it's okay. You don't have to go it alone anymore."

Dimi looks on in puzzlement as others offer support to the Decanted woman. Some reach out and touch her on the arm and shoulder to give her comfort.

This would never have happened when she was here last. The crowd she remembered would mainly be entertaining themselves by haranguing each other, occasionally breaking out into fights, and eventually drinking themselves into oblivion. And now they're offering money to each other? Dimi's mind is blown. She wonders if she's in the right place.

Yet, her mind blows further away into tiny bits of cosmic dust when she starts to follow another conversation:

"I went ahead and did it. I cancelled my family's scheduled brainscans and got my deposit back. Best decision I've ever made," a man says proudly.

"That's fantastic! You'll save so much money!" his companion says, giving him a slap on the back. They clink their glasses and take swigs. "I'm trying to do that too, but my partner isn't ready yet.

"I'm sorry about that... He's still holding onto to the whole Singularity thing, isn't he?"

"Yeah. I've been trying to tell him it's a damned scam, but he won't listen. His family invested a whole lot to get into the Vault of Minds, so that's why."

"Did you explain to him that it's just a means to control us? That those uploads will never work and even if they did, we'd be long dead?"

"Tried to explain it many times. Trust me. I'm trying to get him to come here one night, because I'm sure that'll change his mind."

"Yes! You have to bring him! We'll set him straight! He'll reject the Great Infinity in no time!"

Dimi nearly drops her glass. She shakes her head. Are these Decanted actually questioning the Church of the Singularity? Incredible. Nearly all the Decanted she's met are devout Church goers. It's their path out of their Life Debts. The only path out, really. Yet here they are rejecting it. It's dangerously close to rebellion!

But before she can properly wrap her mind around the conversation, she locates her artifact-dealer. She's in the middle of an animated discussion with a man and woman:

"I'm telling you to be patient, ok? I'll get the credits! It'll happen! You'll see!" her dealer says, waving her hands emphatically.

Dimi notices her dealer's face is covered in bruises and cuts as if she recently gotten into a fight. This at least meets her expectations. As a half-breed, neither genenorms nor Decanted especially like her.

"I'll believe it when I see it," one of the dealer's listeners says as he crosses his arms. The man is disfigured by lumpy scar-tissue stretching across one side of his face. "I've a mind to kick you out if nothing happens soon."

"Easy, there. Marcus," says the flint-eyed woman sitting next to him. "We have to wait anyway. Our assets aren't in place yet. We can afford to wait for the funds to come through."

"But Gina! We need drastic action! If we could have just a fraction of what we all know is there we'd be set, and all we're asking for is fifty thousand..." Marcus grumbles.

"Marcus. Listen." Gina says firmly. "It makes no difference if we get the credits now or later. Our best estimates for us to make it onto the surface is at least a few weeks, and that's if our mission is successful. Remember that we need to coordinate with the unregistered colonies too, and we've only just started negotiating with their leadership."

As Marcus chews on the reasoning presented to him, the dealer gets up and excuses herself:

"I need to take a leak."

"Don't get lost now," Marcus growls.

"Shut up, Marcus," Gina says. "Don't mind him, Smiley. We should talk about interim plans for you when get back, alright?"

Dimi dips her head and looks away as Smiley walks by. She counts to thirty before getting up in turn. She walks quickly. As soon as Smiley disappears into a lavatory stall, Dimi does some quick snooping. Is there anyone else around? She checks the other stalls. No one. Good. It couldn't be a more perfect set-up for her to talk to Smiley. She's thought long and hard about what she wanted to ask, along with plenty of convincing physical inducements if she proves to be reluctant.

But an idea pops into Dimi's head. It's irresistible. She grins. Smiley won't like it, but what's the harm? She braces herself, takes a deep breath, and... kicks down the stall door while screaming,

"Gimme all your credits!"

"What the... what? Shit! Fuck! What the...?" Smiley screams, lurching backwards and almost tripping over her lowered pants.

Dimi doubles over in uncontrollable laughter.

"What the fuck! Who are...? What... Dimi? What the fuck!?" Smiley splutters, as she pulls her pants back on and fastens the latches. "Are you insane? What's the matter with you?"

When Dimi catches her breath, she stands and delivers a whack to Smiley's shoulder. "Oh, come on! It's a joke! I'm just playing with you! What's a little joke between friends?"

Smiley glares. "So we're friends now?"

"What do you mean?" Dimi says. "We're buddies! Partners! You help me, and I help you!"

"You help me?"

"Sure! ...Ok fine. Maybe I don't help you that much," Dimi concedes. "But I always give you a cut of the money I got from Frank, didn't? Right? What about that?"

Smiley's lips stretch into a thin white line.

"What do you want?" Smiley mutters. "And can we talk outside?"

"Outside? Isn't this your office?" Dimi breaks out into knee slapping laughter again, but nevertheless steps out of the stall and into the lavatory area. "Whoa. No further than that. Let's stay in here. It's safer. No prying ears, you know?"

Smiley makes no sign that she heard.

Dimi beams.

"I really need credits, Smiley. Can you set me up?"

After a few incredulous seconds, Smiley scoffs. "What, because I'm rolling in cash?"

"Hey! Don't give me any lip! You know what I mean." Dimi jabs a finger into Smiley's face. "I want an artifact marker. Like before. I'll hunt it down, deliver it back to you, and you pay me the discovery fee - minus the cut I give you. But not like before though! I'll give you double the cut. We'll go 60/40! See how generous I am? Sound good? Yeah? You know how good I am at getting those artifacts!"

Smiley gives Dimi a critical once-over. "You have the gear then? The oxygen packs? The rations? The radioactivity pills? And the access codes? You'll be able to get into the restricted areas safely? Even in the badlands?"

"Oh, sure!" Dimi bats a hand cheerfully. She has none of the things Smiley listed, but: "I got it!"

"You do?"

"Yes! I mean, I'll get them, so I as good as got them!"

"Even with the police hunting you for Frank's murder?"

"I didn't kill him." Dimi's eyes narrow, leaning in.

Smiley flinches. "I never said you did. But you understand that tracking down an artifact is hard enough in the best of times. And now you're saying you can do it with everyone looking for you?"

"Don't worry! Don't worry! It's all taken care of!" Dimi grins and points to her forearm. "My ID tags are deactivated. I can go anywhere! I can be anyone!" She wills herself to exude enough confidence to overtake Smiley's skepticism. "So? You got a marker for me then? You got something?"

Smiley frowns and closes her eyes as if deep in thought. Opening her eyes, the edges of her mouth quirk upwards as she replies,

"No."

Fury detonates in a livid flash, as Dimi whips out a hand and snares Smiley's throat in a death-grip. She roars,

"Are you fucking laughing at me, you fucking motherfucker? I'll show you to goddamned mess with me, you fucking bastard! I'll kill you! I'll fucking tear your eyes out! I'll beat your face in, and see how you'll laugh then. What? What are you trying to say?"

"Argl... Dimi... let me... let me explain." Smiley gurgles.

With great effort, Dimi reins in her anger.

"This better be good."

Smiley stumbles backwards, choking and gasping. "I don't have any markers, Dimi. Wait! Before you do anything, I really don't have any! I swear it!"

"I don't believe you. You're an artifact dealer, aren't you?"

"Me?" Smiley shakes her head. "I'm no dealer. What makes you think that?"

"What makes me think you're an artifact dealer?!?" Dimi repeats, her voice rising and taking a half step forward. "You're the one who gave me all my markers!"

"Dammit! Calm down, Dimi! Yes, I was the one who gave you your markers, but they were all from your father. Your deliveries were always to him, remember?"

"Of course I remember! But didn't you deal for anyone else? There's something else about this I can't remember..." Dimi grits her teeth. Something stirs in her mind, something fleeting, but the pain of remembering makes her back off. "Fine. What about the markers he gave to other hunters? They're unlikely to have completed them so I can do these."

"Frank only dealt with you, Dimi," Smiley shrugs. "He said that he knew you well enough to get you to do what he wanted... his words, Dimi, not mine. I was the go-between. I'm no dealer. It all stopped when you didn't complete that last marker."

Dimi whips her gaze back at Smiley.

"What the hell are you talking about. What incomplete marker?"

Smiley stares. "What am I talking about? I'm talking about the last marker Frank gave you. The one you didn't complete."

Dimi replies, her teeth clenched. "I completed that one."

"But you didn't."

"Don't lie to me!"

"Dimi, please calm down! I'm just telling you what happened! You really didn't complete it!"

"How can that be?! That's not possible! I completed it!" Dimi says, her nostrils flaring. "Frank didn't pay me for that job! He owes me money! Money I can use to free Greta! That jealous bastard didn't want me to steal her from him, so he refused payment. He didn't even budge after I gave him a beating! Bastard owes me! He owes me eight thousand credits!"

Smiley's jaw drops.

"But... but... that's not what happened! You argued with Frank about not wanting to give him any more artifacts. You said he didn't deserve them and you were going to keep them away from him. Then you both screamed at each other, and it was then you punched him the face and ran away before the security drones could get you. Don't you... Argl!"

"You're lying! You're fucking lying!" Dimi screams, again grabbing Smiley by the throat.

"...Dimi... I'm not lying... I was... there..." Smiley says through strangled gasps.

"Where is my money! I want a marker! I want an artifact to hunt! I need those credits! Give them to me!" Dimi hollers.

Her head is pounding. Her thoughts are a mess of contorted pain and mish-mashed images and memories. Fear lances through her as she doubts whether she can hold the edges of her sanity together. How much of her own shattered mind can she trust? She honestly doesn't know what to believe.

A hand suddenly slams down on her arm, as someone yells in her ear, "Let her go! Dimi! You fool! Let her go!"

But Dimi roars and throws off the new person. She hears a faint curse as the person stumbles away. She's about to launch herself at them when something is thrust into her face, and the person says,

"Here! Is this what you want? Is this what you're looking for?"

Dimi's gaze falls on a hand-sized sphere. It's blueish-chrome and pockmarked. Anyone else would likely think it's a piece of junk metal, but she instantly identifies it and grabs it.

"A memory module! This is from an Earther warmachine! This is..." Dimi's brow knots as she turns the thing in her hands, as she feels no staticky charge on its surface. "This is fucking worthless. It's no longer active. There's nothing in this shit."

"That's right, Dimi," someone agrees. "It's worthless. And yet it's the most valuable item in Frank's collection of Earther artifacts."

Dimi looks up sharply. She meets her brother Ivan's glare.

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# Chapter 9: Calm words

"Are you able to get yourself together? Or do you need a sedative?" Ivan asks dryly, trying to look casually contemptuous. He has no idea if his sister's rage has truly passed. Fortunately, Dimi untenses her body and flashes a lopsided grin.

"Hey, Ivan! Fancy seeing you here. You taking a piss too?" she says, tossing the useless memory module back at him.

Ivan makes a show of studying it as he considers what to say next.

"What other Earther artifacts did you get for our father, Dimi? Did you keep a list?"

"Artifacts? Why... whatever do you mean, Ivan?" Dimi replies, her eyes wide in mock surprise. "You shock me. How could you think that I engage in that kind of thing?"

Ivan heaves a deep sigh. He only heard the tail end of her and Smiley's yelling, but it was more than enough to figure out what was going on. He hates to admit it, but he's surprised to find Dimi here. He'd come looking for Smiley. After mulling on who got Frank his artifacts, he had concluded, correctly, that Smiley was the most likely candidate to have acted as Frank's artifact dealer.

"Is there a list, Smiley?" Ivan asks.

Smiley chews her lip. "No. All the files were self-fragging."

"Ivan, you have to understand..." Dimi tries to explain.

"I don't care for your reasons, Dimi," Ivan flicks his hand. "All I want to know is if you brought Frank more than this junk?"

"Of course!" Dimi looks almost offended. "I was good at what I did! I knew where to go for the best stuff! His requests were weird though, so sometimes it took a while, but I could always figure it out in the end. I delivered! Yes, I did!"

Ivan glances impassively at Dimi's puffed-up chest. He certainly hopes Dimi found better things than the inactive memory module in his hand. The sphere once sat at the core of an Earther warmachine. By its size, it likely controlled a mid-range sentinel, perhaps an eight-legged swarm-bot or maybe one of the innumerable diamond-jawed "chewers" whose sole purpose was to latch onto a Martian-identified target, should it be metal, glass, or flesh, and grind it into tiny little bits.

"There's an artifact that Frank once owned, but is now missing." Ivan says. "Either it was stolen by the murderer or Frank sold it himself. I doubt very much it was the latter, as he wouldn't let it go without someone giving him a fortune."

Dimi stares back with a blank expression. But Ivan can tell that his words have set her mental gears whirring.

"If you help me track it down, I can make it worth your while. You wanted credits, right? To escape with your precious Greta? I can get that for you," Ivan continues. "But only if you can help me find what you brought Frank. Sound good, Dimi?"

Dimi grumbles: "Can you be more specific? What are you looking for?"

"I don't know," Ivan admits. "There's no account of what it looks like, but it'll be obvious when I see it. How about we start off with you telling me the kinds of things you brought Frank."

"The usual shit, I guess." Dimi shrugs. "Sometimes it was relics from the first settlements, sometimes it was mementoes from the battlefields. You know, the usual shit."

"But you said there were some weird things. What were those?"

"I dunno... just stuff, I guess."

"Can you be more specific?"

"Not really. It was just more junk as far as I could tell."

"Dimi, try to think. Why was it weird if it was junk?"

"Well..." Dimi says. "Mostly because he sent me to strange places where no other artifacts usually were. Sometimes he had specific instructions, like go through a cave and find a specific crawler-drone that had exactly the right serial number. Like I said, it was weird."

Ivan's calm voice belies the tension in his chest. "Can you lead me back to where you found the artifacts with the strange instructions? Or point it out on a map?"

Dimi's face contorts in concentration, as her expression rapidly cycles from confused, to angry, to frustrated. Ivan watches with interest as she massages her temples, muttering low to herself. She seems to be struggling for words and losing the battle, but something in her shifts as she violently shakes her head and says to Ivan defiantly:

"Yeah, sure I can, Ivan. I can take you to where I found that stuff. What's it worth to you?"

"Whatever you want, Dimi," Ivan replies easily, studying his sister. She's still rubbing one of her temples. "You know I control Frank's assets, don't you? I can give you what you want."

"Yeah? Well, he owes me eight thousand credits, we should start with that."

"Fine."

"And I want another hundred thousand. All of it untraceable, of course."

"Of course."

"I want a vehicle too. With supplies."

"That could be arranged."

"And I want..."

"Hold on, Dimi," Ivan interrupts. "Let me be clear. You'll be getting this after you've brought me to where you found those artifacts. Either that, or it can be after you give me information on what I'm looking for."

"Yeah, sure. Fine, of course."

"And you're able to do that?"

"Yes! What did I just tell you?"

"You're ready to take me now?"

"...well, no. Not immediately. I have things to set up first."

"Set up? What do you need to set up?"

"You know, things..."

Ivan narrow his eyes. "You can't take me to where you found the artifacts, can you Dimi?"

"I can! What do you mean? I..."

"You don't remember, do you?" Ivan's gaze bores into Dimi. "I heard you talking to Smiley on the way in, Dimi. You couldn't remember that you didn't complete your last marker."

"She's lying! She's fucking lying!" Dimi screams, shaking her fist at Smiley, who backs away as far as she can.

"Now why would she do that, Dimi? It makes no sense. No, this is something else," Ivan says. "So you don't remember where you've been, and your memory is patchy..."

"I tell you, I..."

"Linkage brain-fry." Ivan diagnoses, shutting Dimi up. "You've got linkage brain-fry. Also known as cognitive overload resulting from incompatible processing strain. It's a common enough condition with military mecha users when they've been linked for too long. Symptoms include memory loss, memory gaps, poor sleep, irritability, and intermittent paranoia. Sound familiar?" Dimi squirms, but finds nothing to say. Ivan taps his chin thoughtfully. "So if you don't remember where you've been before, and your past recall is suspect, you probably have no idea what's real and what isn't. You could have killed Frank, and never even know it."

"Not this again!" Dimi explodes. "I didn't kill the fucker! It wasn't me!"

"Relax, Dimi. I believe you," Ivan says. "Just shut up for a second, and let me think."

He actually isn't sure that Dimi didn't kill their father. It's undeniably a clear possibility with Dimi's linkage brain-fry. It would be a complicated and convoluted plan for her pull off, but it's still possible. Certainly, if she worked with someone or had some kind of accomplice, it would change the calculus. But then again, the likelihood of Dimi ever being willing to work with someone - or finding someone willing to work with her - is so low that Ivan is tempted to dismiss it outright.

His only reason to keep it a possibility is because he'd already made the mistake of not anticipating that Frank would have hired Dimi to do his work - which also should have been so unlikely as to be impossible. But Frank liked his surprises, didn't he? Ivan curses himself. Clearly, his thinking has been getting sloppy. If he had his implants, he could have simulated all the relevant possibilities in detail so he could more accurately assess them. But that's not possible anymore, is it?

Ivan turns on his idiot sister. "Damned uncontrollable fool. You got yourself into this mess. You and your stupid playing around. Why couldn't you have been more sensible?"

"Like you, you mean? And be a lifeless husk? Never to enjoy anything? Spare me." Dimi snorts. "Besides, didn't sensible thinking fail you too? You're a university reject! There's no point in you pretending you're superior. Bet you got kicked out for some dumb reason. Bet you got yourself involved with some brainy geek and embarrassed yourself with them. Bet you I'm right. We are our father's children after all. You had a good run at pretending otherwise, I'll give you that, but now you're as much a failure as me."

"All I ask is that you think things through. That's it," Ivan grits, ignoring Dimi's barbs. "If you could have planned your actions better, you wouldn't be in this mess, and I wouldn't be dragged into it."

"Nobody dragged you in, Ivan. Always the self-obsessed ass, aren't you? You popped up here without anyone asking for you. You can leave the same way too."

"Leave? Is that what you want? You want me to leave with the thousands of credits that I have access to without giving you any of it?"

"...whatever. Go ahead leave. I'll figure it out. I always do."

"Dimi, you don't figure things out. They get figured out for you. Usually by kicking you out from wherever you are since no one wants to deal with your messes."

"That's completely false! That's total bullshit!"

"You were kicked out of the house. You were kicked out of the military," Ivan lists. "You were kicked out of every relationship you've been in, with the exception of your engagement with Katy LeoAng, which you seem to be determined to end by gallivanting with that Greta character." He shakes his head. "Dimi, if this was about credits, why didn't you just go to Katy and ask for them? With her wealth, she could have solved any problem."

Dimi stares at him as if he'd sprouted robotic wings out of his head and started flying around the lavatory. "You do get what I was going to use those credits for, don't you? I was going to leave and make a new life with Greta. The other woman? The Decanted woman? The woman who's not that bitch Katy?"

"So? She's a reasonable woman," Ivan shrugs. "Tell her you want a polyamorous relationship. Tell her you want to include Greta. If she has issues with the children and the gene-mixing, agree to restrictions on who can breed with who. It's a common enough arrangement."

"It's common, yes, but not acceptable for a high-classed, gene-perfect member of the LeoAngs!" Dimi cries. "They talk about being tolerant and accepting, but it's all politics and back-stabbing."

"Nonsense. Katy would at least consider the idea."

"No she wouldn't! She's a damned bitch! She wants to torture me!"

"End the engagement then. You want to start a new life with Greta so badly, then go and live off-grid for a little while in some cave or a insta-dome. You may even survive a few years."

"You think I didn't try to break it off? She won't let me!"

"Won't let you? That doesn't sound like her. Why wouldn't she let you?"

"Because of some kind of damned honor and propriety she can't let go of. She says she has to marry me. She says it would be fundamentally wrong not to, whatever that means."

"Well, that does sound like her. What did you do for her to hang onto you? She never said."

"Of course she never said! It's her shame, she says! I tell you I can't get out of... Now wait just a minute," Dimi halts. She stares at Ivan. "How do would you know what she sounds like? Why are you talking about her as if you know her?"

Ivan thanks his academic training for the ease that he wipes his face of any emotions. "She's a public figure." He says calmly. "It's easy to figure out what she would say. Dimi, this isn't about..."

"Bullshit! You can't fool me, Ivan. You know how well I read people. And don't forget I could always read you. You know her, don't you?" Dimi peers at Ivan closely. "It's more than that. The way you talk about her, the way you say you know her... you have to have spent time with her. Maybe you've even been seeing her on a regular basis. You have! Ha! But it's even more than that, isn't it?" Dimi's face splits into a triumphant smile as she crows, "You're in love with her! You are, aren't you, Ivan! You're in love with Katy LeoAng!"

"Nonsense. Ridiculous," Ivan spits angrily. "I may know her and speak to her, but I'm not..."

"But you are! You are! I told you I can tell! You might be able to hide from others, but not from me! Not from your dear sister!" Dimi insists. "Who would have thought that you had it in you? I never did! Wow! My little brother is in love!"

"First off, this is incredibly wrong. Second off, I have been involved in romantic relations with many individuals..."

"Sure, sure you have. I'm sure you 'messed around' with lots of folks at your precious university and done lots of freaky shit in your simulated environments. But those are all sexless fuckers! It's not like the real carnal sex with hot flesh and sweat and humping!" Dimi laughs, as she thrusts her hips back and forth with vigor.

"Dimi..."

"But this is perfect!" she continues. "If you're so in love with Katy, you should marry that cold-ass bitch! I'll be free to run off with Greta! We'll just swap Mazers! What does she care? She won't get to have sex with my hot ass anymore, but I can give you hinters to help you out. I know what gets her off! It'll be easy!"

"Dimi! Shut the fuck up!" Ivan yells out.

His face feels hot. His heart is running. This idiotic conversation is not going in the direction he wants. He's lost control. He takes a calming breath. He needs to regain the upper hand. Reframe the conversation.

"Be serious and think. You need to figure out whoever killed Frank. We need to figure it out. Because like it or not, the accusation that's being levelled at you is tying us together. If we want to do anything to move on, including running away or marrying anyone, that needs to get settled first. Now Dimi, I'm asking you to think carefully. Who would want to set you up for murder? Who knows you well enough to do that?"

Dimi opens her mouth to start answering, but the lavatory door suddenly bursts open, and to everyone's surprise, Aly steps in. He looks elated that he's found them. Indeed,

"Dimi! Yes! I thought you might be here!" Aly says happily.

"Aly? What are you doing here?" Ivan asks.

"It's a Mazer sibling convention!" Dimi laughs. As if noticing Smiley for the first time, she laughs again and nudges her ribs. "Hell, even the bastard is here! We're all here! Aly! Come here! Give me a hug! I haven't seen my favorite brother in too long!"

"It's nice to see you too, Dimi. Even under the circumstances," Aly replies, wincing from Dimi's muscular embrace.

"Aly, answer me. Why are you here?" Ivan asks again. "How did you find us?"

Aly smiles. "I followed you!"

"You followed me."

"Yes!" Aly nods. "I thought that you might know where Dimi is, so I followed you."

Both Ivan and Dimi are momentarily at a loss for words.

"Did you come alone?" Ivan says slowly.

"No! Of course, not!" Aly replies, his happy smile unchanged. "I called the Inquisitor when I got down to this habitat. I asked him what he thought, and he said he would come immediately. He's going to help us! Dimi! You just have to turn yourself over, and he'll help us sort out this whole thing!"

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# Chapter 10: An unexpected gathering

Given the panicked, piercing looks Aly is getting, he sees his enthusiasm isn't landing. So he repeats,

"There's nothing to worry about anymore! The Inquisitor is going to help clear up this whole mess about father's murder. He said he only needs to talk to you, Dimi. That's it!"

"An Inquisitor," Dimi says. "An Inquisitor is coming. Here. For me."

"Yes! Inquisitor Zos! He said that..."

Dimi turns to Ivan. "An Inquisitor! Why the hell is the Church involved? Fuck! And looking for me? I thought it was only the police! What's going on?"

"It'll be okay! He..."

Ivan grimaces. "The Inquisitor appeared at the house when the police were investigating Frank's murder. Obviously, Frank did something that worries the Church. I'm guessing it has to do with one of the artifacts you brought him."

"What? Dimi? Is this true?" Aly says, horrified. "Were you the one who brought Frank those..."

"But it was all junk! It was shit!"

"As far as you can remember."

"It's fine though!" Aly reasons. "The Inquisitor is just going to clear things up and..."

"It was junk, I tell you! It was! I mean... I think so."

"Obviously, it wasn't, Dimi. And now the Church is coming for you."

"But there's nothing to worry about!" Aly insists, waving his hands to get his siblings to pay attention and hear his words. "Inquisitor Zos said that..."

Ivan at last turns to Aly, but only asks, "Aly, when did you call the Inquisitor?"

"When?" Aly thinks. "Maybe a ten minutes ago? I called when I heard your voices in the lavatory."

"Good. That should give us plenty of time," Ivan says. But before Aly can say anything else, he turns back to Dimi. "There's no direct loop transit here, so he'll need to come on foot from the level above us. That means it'll be maybe an hour before he gets here. You could get away."

"Get away? But to where?" Dimi says. "We're on the lowest level. Any way out is up through the same passages he's using on his way down. There's no way for me avoid him."

"You could take the sewage tubes. They're rarely checked."

"What? Do you know how many the tubes I've gone through? I'd rather fight!"

"Dimi, be reasonable."

"You be reasonable!"

Seeing the conversation is sliding towards Dimi leaving, Aly sees no other option. He steps in between Ivan and Dimi and yells out:

"Dimi! Ivan! Please stop! You have to listen to me!"

He gives them reassuring smiles to fend off their irritated glares.

"It'll be fine. There's no need to run away. The Inquisitor said he will help us. I'm convinced that we can trust him. It'll be alright! There's no need to leave, Dimi!"

Neither Ivan or Dimi respond. They look at each other, as if to see who is willing to get into it with Aly. Ivan shrugs, so Dimi grunts and sighs.

"Aly, I love you very much, but you're so damned blind to reality, it's hilarious. So you think the Inquisitor will help, do you? That he'll 'take care of everything'?" she chuckles mirthlessly. "Well, I agree with you. He will. But it won't be in the way you think. As soon as he gets his hands on me, I'd say it's a fifty-fifty chance if he'll start by asking me questions nicely, or if he'll skip that step and throw me into a cranial iron-maiden. One way or the other, I'll end up a vegetable or dead. I'm hoping dead to be honest."

"That's absurd! The Inquisition does nothing like that!" Aly protests. "And there's no such thing as a cranial iron-maiden. That's just some silly myth! The Inquisition isn't going to steal your thoughts with some kind of evil brainscan!"

At least, that's what Aly has been taught as a novitiate. The Inquisition's mandate is to inquire - hence the name - into issues that affect the orthodoxy of the beliefs surrounding the Singularity and the Great Infinity. Their most frequent role is to act as arbiters when the High Thinkers of the Church disagree. The most vigorous that Aly has seen them is when they intervened in a doctrinal argument revolving around whether an authentic identity could truly be constructed through the incomplete parts of memories or whether it would never be the same. A classic conundrum for the Singularity that, as Aly recalled, came to a satisfying conclusion.

Dimi chuckles again and shakes her head.

"Aly, you have to understand that the Church is not the same as the Inquisition. They may both be part of the Church of the Singularity, but they couldn't be more different." Dimi shrugs. "Honestly, I get it. With all their cover-ups, there's no reason for you to see what the Inquisition actually does. But if you've been on the front lines... if you've been tasked with putting down rebellions and insurrections... then..."

Dimi shudders.

"The Church is kind and generous only if you believe its promises of immortality. And only if you fall into line. If you don't... well that's what the Inquisition is for. They come in and get rid of you and any other so called heretic. Because anyone and anything that threatens the Church is a threat that must be eliminated."

"But that's absurd!" Aly protests again. "The Church doesn't require anyone to believe in its teachings! They allow lots of people to be unbelievers! Look at Ivan! He's a Non-Singularist! By your logic, then the Inquisitor should be going after him!"

Ivan speaks this time. "I may be officially sanctioned, but it's just for show. The Non-Singularists are allowed to provide token dissent to show that the government is open to diverse opinions. But if the movement grew any bigger... well, I'd be needing to go on the run from the Inquisition too. Dimi, there isn't time for this. You have to go."

"Nah, this'll take only a minute. It's important he understands what's really going on. This way, maybe he won't be so eager to bring the heat down on me next time." Dimi says, waving Ivan away. "Aly, did you know there was a colony at the South Pole?"

Aly frowns. "On the South Pole? Don't you mean the North Pole? Where the atmospheric conditioners are?"

"No, I mean the South. Most definitely the South," Dimi confirms. "No, huh? Of course, you wouldn't know. There was no media coverage of it. Any mention of it on the network is routinely monitored, tracked down, and erased. If anyone is discovered talking about it, they're either discredited or 'disappeared.' But there was a colony on the South Pole. A big one. And I helped destroy it and kill everyone there."

"That... that's not..."

"Not possible? Still don't believe me? Well, like before, there's no real reason for you to believe me, because I have no proof, not to mention my memory is shitty. I'm the quintessential unreliable witness!" Dimi grins. "But the colony existed. It wasn't a standard one. Because all the colonists were Decanted. Every one of them. They were trying to escape their Life Debts. They planned and schemed in secret for years. They eventually snuck out of their habitats, travelling as far as they could. The valley they colonized was tiny in comparison to ours, but it was lovely place. Just over twenty kilometers long and five kilometers wide. They put a dome over it, and were living out in the open beneath."

Dimi looks wistful for a moment, but her expression darkens. "But of course we found them. The owners of their Life Debts wouldn't shut up until we did. They'd hidden their tracks well, so it took us a full year before we managed to find them. And then? Well, ten battle units including mine were sent to exterminate them. All under the direction of an Inquisitor. You want proof? If we got a planet hopper, we could go there and you could see the scorch marks for yourself. We turned their valley into an inferno and burned the colonists alive."

Aly's face is hot and red as he answers, "Even if I were to believe you Dimi, it still makes no sense. There's lots of evidence that we don't bother Decanted who go out on their own. Look at the unregistered colonies in the Labyrinth! No one bothers them!"

"No one? No one except you novitiates who visit them on your little conversion missions, right?" Dimi points out. "Those unregistered colonies know the score. They know the rules to stay alive. So long as they continue playing the role of wide-eyed converts when you roll through, they'll be left alone. If they so much as hint at any agitating or any desire to expand or really settle in, the full might of the Martian Unified Government and the Inquisition will crash down on them."

There's much that Aly still has to say in response - at least, that's what he tells himself - when suddenly, a magnified voice from outside blares its way into the lavatory:

"Dimi Mazer! In the name of the Church of the Singularity, come out the building and surrender yourself to the Inquisition! If you do not exit the premises in sixty seconds, then we will be forced to come in and retrieve you."

A flurry of noise of agitated curses sound from in the bar, followed by panicked scrambling from outside the lavatory. A stampede of steps rumbles past their door.

Dimi smirks. "Well, fuck me silly. Guess I had less time than thought." She flashes a toothy grin to Aly, as Ivan heaves an exasperated sigh. "It's okay. I'll fight my way out. I can take them."

"Are you insane?" Ivan says. "We're not just talking about the Martian Police. This Inquisitor probably brought his enforcer."

"What would you propose then?" Dimi demands.

"Anything except fighting. We have to figure this out. With our brains." Ivan snaps.

"What are you..."

"There's a way out," Smiley interrupts.

Ivan and Dimi stare at her.

"It's safe. There's an exit in back that leads to a hidden passage. It's shielded from scanners. It sounded like most of the people from the bar already left that way. It should still be open. I can take Dimi," Smiley says.

It takes only a beat for Ivan to nod.

"Do it." He twitches her head Dimi. "Go with her."

Later, when Aly thinks back on this moment, he wonders if he could have done something to stop Dimi from leaving. Could he have given her hug goodbye, and instead of letting her go, could he have held onto her tight until the Inquisitor came? But Aly is motionless as he watches Dimi and Smiley leave, his heart torn and confused.

"Come on, Aly. Let's go talk to your Inquisitor," Ivan says, grabbing hold of his arm.

When they walk back into the bar, there's only one patron left in the bar. An old Decanted man with an ugly patch of scar-tissue stretched out over one side of his face. He's not alone though. Inquisitor Zos and his enforcer tower over him, as he sits at his table, calmly finishing his drink. Around them hover four boxy drones illuminating the room with stark brightness, recording and scanning everything.

"So you saw this person then? She was here?" the Inquisitor says, pointing at a projection of Dimi's face.

"Yeah, she was here," the old man replies.

"Where is she now?"

The old man raises his shoulders and lets them fall non-commitally. "Couldn't tell you."

"Couldn't? Or won't?"

Another shrug. The old man seems to oblivious to Inquisitor Zos growing rage.

"Could it be she went to the same place that the others disappeared to?"

"There were other people here?"

"Think you're clever, do you?"

The old man seems about to shrug again, but in blink of movement, he's dangling in the air, grasping at his throat as the Inquisitor holds him two feet off the ground with one of his bony arms.

"You think I can't tell what this place is? We should have been keeping a better eye on heretics and rebels like you," the Inquisitor snarls. "Our scanners might not have detected your secret exit, but I guarantee that we will find it. And then I'll find the people in your little rebel cell. I'll kill them all." He looks to his enforcer. "Destroy this place. Find the exit. We're wasting time."

Aly finally manages to find his voice.

"Inquisitor! Please! There's no need for this! They left from out back somewhere! Next to the lavatory. There's some kind of exit there."

A deep sigh next to him reminds him of Ivan's presence. But hope rises when the Inquisitor drops the old man to the floor and says to his enforcer:

"Go. Find the exit. Break the entrance open and catch them. There's still time." As his enforcer stomps to the back of the building, he snarls to Aly: "You better hope your sister is there. You were supposed to lead us to her, not let her go."

"Inquisitor Zos, I..."

A hoarse, wet cough from the floor interrupts Aly's response, as the old Decanted man says, "You won't get to them in time. The escape hatch is blast-rated to war-time emergency standards. Solid graphite plating. It'll take your goon at least a half hour to get through that. And when he does, he'll need to dig through a kilometer of rubble. By now, the entire passageway will have been collapsed. You'll never find them."

With an angry cry, the Inquisitor grabs the old man by the top of his head and lifts him up again as if he were ragdoll. "Oh? You think, I won't? You think they got away?" He yells out to his enforcer: "Marvin! Get back here!"

When the stomping returns, the Inquisitor says, "Fetch the portable brainscanner. We're going to tear his thoughts out of him. You hear that, heretic? I'm going to break open your mind. Everything you know, I will know, and then your friends will never be able to hide again. What...?"

A deep rumbling shakes the room as muffled thumps sound from beneath the room.

The old man smiles in spite of the Inquisitor's painful grip. "Good. That would be the passageway collapsing. They got away. I had to keep you occupied long enough so they could get out and detonate the charges."

"Marvin!" the Inquisitor screeches. "Hurry up and get me that damned scanner!"

"It won't work," the old man grins. "I dosed myself with a neural-disruptor before you came in. You'll get nothing even if you did give me a brainscan."

The fury that blazes in the Inquisitor's eyes is terrifying. Aly wouldn't have been surprised if he would have torn the old man's head off. Instead, the Inquisitor's face cracks into a yellowed smile.

"Oh, don't you worry about that. We'll get something useful out of that skull of yours. Our technology can do a lot more than we let on. It especially works when the subject is alive and suffering. Pain, you see, is a wonderful way to extract memories."

But the old man coughs wetly and replies, "In that case, it's a good thing that I'll die soon. I also swallowed a suicide-pill."

This time the Inquisitor doesn't hold back as screams, "Fucker! Fucking hell! Marvin! Where the hell are you?"

But when the enforcer returns, the old man has coughed his last breaths and gone slack in the Inquisitor's hands.

"It's fine," Inquisitor Zos says, staring balefully at the lifeless body. "We'll scan him anyway. It'll be a fucking mess, but we may get some useful fragments."

This is too much for Aly.

"Inquisitor!" Aly protests. "This isn't acceptable! You can't give this man a brainscan!"

The obscenity of the violence shocked him into silence, but what the Inquisitor is proposing crosses his deep beliefs too far not to protest. To do a brainscan on a subject that would lead to a non-uploadable fragments is unconscionable. It desecrates the very sanctity of the mind that the Church of the Singularity holds prime above all.

"Did you not hear that he gave himself a neural-disruptor?" Aly pleads. "You won't be able to create a full scan! His mind won't be complete!"

Aly immediately regrets having said anything. The Inquisitor seems poised to hurl himself at him.

Yet, any violence is forestalled when a loud, captivating voice says,

"That's a good point, isn't it, Inquisitor? Does the Church not explicitly forbid fragmentary brainscans? Does it not state that a mind that cannot be whole, is not truly a mind, but a mockery of one? Surely, you know this, do you not, Inquisitor Zos?"

Standing in the doorway is a stunningly beautiful woman. Her richly maroon complexion glows with vibrancy and health. Her features are flawless, showing not a hint of mutation. Her lustrous hair is perfectly coifed and falls beside her face in neat plaits. And if those aren't enough to mark her out as a gene-perfect woman, on either side of her stand two soldiers clad in heavily-armed mecha-suits. In their arms, they're holding high-yield pulse rifles, while the hard-points on their sides have panoply of grenades and munitions clamped to them. They're painted obsidian-black - the color of the honor guard dedicated to protect the Chancellor and her family.

Katy LeoAng says, "Well, Inquisitor? What have you to say?"

The Inquisitor and his enforcer eye the newcomers, giving the honor guards a long, appraising look. Though the honor guard outnumber them, they look uneasy and twitchy.

"I am familiar with my own faith, Ms. LeoAng," Inquisitor Zos says finally. "But no one said there would be incomplete brainscans. The technology we have here can do far more than an ordinary scanner. Even with severely damaged memories, our scanner can reconstruct and assemble them into complete forms."

"How convenient," Ivan mutters. "Strange how this isn't public knowledge."

The Inquisitor spreads his hands. "It's still experimental, but so far we have been achieving good success with it."

Again Aly should have stayed quiet, he knows, but he can't help asking: "So his scan will be placed in the Vault of the Minds?"

"What?"

"If you're able to get a full scan, you'll be putting him in the Vault of Minds. Won't you?" Aly continues earnestly.

The Inquisitor wrinkles his nose. "Putting gene-filth like him in the Vault of Minds? Why would I do that?"

"Because his scan... he... because..." Aly stutters, unable to complete his thoughts.

"Because," Katy says with a slim smile, "the Church of the Singularity states that any and all brainscans will be placed within the Vault of Minds, even those taken by chance. All must have the opportunity to enter the Great Infinity. This belief is central to your faith, is it not? Perhaps this is something that may require further investigation, do you not think, Inquisitor?"

The Inquisitor says nothing.

"But even putting that aside, though you may have the right to scan this man's brain, you do not have the right to harvest it for information," Katy says coolly. "Unless, of course, you have a warrant to do so, but I highly doubt you do."

"Warrant! I have no need of a warrant!" the Inquisitor spits. "I am allowed to use any resources I can in my hunt for a murderer who..."

"Inquisitor! You dare!" Katy says, outraged. "You are talking about my fiance, a woman who will soon be a member of the LeoAng family. I remind you that there is no evidence that she is the murderer, and so you may not call her as such. I remind you also that if you slander her name, you slander the LeoAng name as well. Is that something you wish to do? If so, then I am certain that the Chancellor would find this of interest."

The Inquisitor glares.

"I thought so. You are wise not to cross me," Katy says. "Though I promise you, the power of the Inquisition is coming to an end. We have no more need for you fanatics. Our society needs to move forward and adopt practices that will truly ensure our future." She arches a brow. "Speaking of which, were you not intending to scan this man? Please do. You can prove your worth. We will watch you do it and watch as you have it sent to the Vault of Minds without tampering with it or harvesting any information."

Aly holds his breath. The tension is such that he fears any sudden movement would end in disaster. The silence stretches. He forces himself to exhale and then slowly inhale. Quietly.

A wet crunch.

"Oops," the Inquisitor hisses. With one stomp of his foot, he crushed the old man's head into mush.

Before anyone can react, his hand flashes out, grabs Ivan by the collar, and pulls him in close. He whispers something in his ear. Whatever it is, it contorts Ivan's face into a rare expression of anger.

"Get off of me!" Ivan screams, flinging his arms out.

But the Inquisitor has already let go and is stalking out of the building, his enforcer close behind.

It's then that Aly's vision flashes. The color, though, is neither white or red. It's black. And before he can puzzle its meaning, his implants activate all at once. Inquisitor Zos appears before him. It is only him. There is no background, neither visual or aural. It is as if his entire sensory input has been taken over - for indeed it has.

"Useless. Fucking useless," the Inquisitor says contemptuously. "What was I thinking that you, a fucking Mazer, could help me."

Aly tries to respond, but he finds that he has no voice. His control over his body has been overridden.

"I'm going to find your sister, don't you worry," the Inquisitor promises. "When I find her, I'm going tear everything out of her mind and I'll crush that idiot. If your brother or his bitch Katy LeoAng get in my way, I promise I'll crush them too. You tell them that. You tell them that I'll win this, not them."

Aly can't even shake his head.

"One more thing," the Inquisitor snarls. "You're done, Aly. You're nothing to us. You're no more to the Church of the Singularity. I am expelling you. There is no room in the Church for a useless idiot like you."

The connection snaps shut, returning Aly's senses in a staggering rush. As his vision and hearing return, he sees Ivan in front of him. He's waving his hands in front of his eyes and saying something.

"Aly! What's wrong with you? Why aren't you saying anything?" he yells. "Can you move? Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

Alright?

No.

He most definitely is not.

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# Part 2

# A week's "respite"

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# Chapter 11: Surprising visitors

It's been a trying week. Aly isn't sure how he survived. The last few days have been a blur of screaming, cursing, and spitting hurled over a background of jeering and heckling - all recorded by a swarm of media-drones that never left him when he stepped foot in public. None of the abuse is actually directed at him, even though he was recipient of it all. But for the legions of Decanted wronged by Frank and denied the right to properly express their contempt by tearing his corpse to shreds, venting on Aly will have to do.

What's most difficult though isn't the public hatred. It's the desperate pleading of Franks' debtors. Shortly after the funeral, they began throwing themselves at Aly's feet. The first was a Decanted woman who was old, so very old. Her face was cratered by Martian pox and crisscrossed by a network of lines and scars. Blind and crippled, her two sons lead her to Aly, where she prostrated herself, begging to be relieved her Life Debt. Her sons kneeled beside her, their eyes downcast in shame, while a crowd formed around them, watching in silence. All too many soon followed after.

Of course, the only person who could free them was Ivan, not Aly. He'd been prepared to beg Ivan to forgive the debt, or at least be granted to power to give relief to poorest of Frank's debtors. Astonishingly, Ivan didn't even twitch a brow. With a dismissive wave, he granted Aly authorization to manage Frank's lists of debtors. With the sole condition that he go through Frank's records within the next few days. So long as he did that, Ivan said, he could do whatever he wanted with the Decanted. Aly was overjoyed. He even pulled his brother into a stiff hug, promising that he wouldn't disappoint him.

Oh, how deluded he was.

Aly had gone through less than half a percent of Frank's debtors when three Church technicians came for him. It was two days after the funeral. He knew they would come, but he'd hoped to have more time. They were taking away the implants that he was no longer entitled to. It was all he could do to keep himself from crying as the technicians locked his head in a brace and began to prey them out. With each implant taken away, his thoughts quieted, slowed, and collapsed onto themselves until an oppressively small silence remained, leaving just enough room for his failure and uselessness.

A sharp beep rings from the house-com, startling Aly from his glowing projections of spreadsheets and graphs. He'd been painstakingly plodding through Frank's files manually and making very little progress. He'd hoped to go through Frank's list of debtors too, but without his implants, there was no way to do both and meet Ivan's deadline.

"Someone is here to see you," Smiley's projection says.

"Is it Rae?" Aly asks eagerly. She'd agreed to come by and use her implants to help him sort through Frank's convoluted accounts. It wasn't appropriate for her to use her implants for such mundane purposes. Indeed, as a novitiate, she should be avoiding an outcast like Aly. But then again, as Rae explained with a laugh, she never cared about Church regulations when she joined and she wasn't going to start now.

"What? There's no Rae here," Smiley says, her face scrunched in irritation. "It's someone asking for money again. You want me to tell them to go away?"

"Of course not, Smiley," Aly replies tolerantly. "Let them in. I'm happy to speak to them."

"Whatever. I'll buzz her in," Smiley grunts and disappears.

This isn't quite how Smiley is supposed to do her job. For one, she's supposed to have somewhat less snark. But with Frank's passing, it seems she's decided she would follow her own directions.

Soft, timid footsteps in the hallway precede the appearance of a stocky Decanted woman in her late thirties. She's wearing an old-style military jumpsuit uniform that's been repeatedly patched.

"Hello!" Aly crafts a welcoming smile, as he tries to place the woman. There's something familiar about her. "How can I help you, Miss..."

"Captain Sam Niner."

"Captain, yes..."

"Of the Armed Chef Forces."

"Of the Armed Chef..."

"That's right, sir. I used to serve in the Armed Chef Forces, First Class Deployment of Field Kitchen Services."

"Ah, I see. Welcome, Captain, and..."

"I just wanted to make clear what service I was in." the captain explains. Her words are fast and clipped. "I was a chef, not a fighter. I'm not hiding anything."

"No, of course not. I had no impression of that you were..."

"I may not have fought on the front lines, but I served in our military with honor."

"Yes, I..."

"It wasn't all safe. We were shot at. It was dangerous. We had to set up our kitchens in active battlefields."

"Captain, let me assure you that I acknowledge your service in the military, and I honor your position..."

"Your father didn't," the captain says, her voice sharp. But she quickly turns her defiance down to her feet. "He didn't think much of me. Didn't think I was a real captain. Didn't think I was worth anything. But I served. I earned my rank."

Aly looks at the captain in sympathy. Frank had many ways using to humiliate and cut people down. It's been a painfully common story over the last week, and it only underlines how much work Aly must do to correct Frank's many crimes.

"Captain..."

"You can call me Sam," she says quickly. "It's fine. Everyone does. You might as well too."

"...sure. Whatever you like, ah... Sam," Aly says. "How can I help you today? I imagine that you are here to clear your Life Debt? I'm of course happy to do so, but I have to let you know that I won't be able to get to it as quickly as I would like. I apologize for the delay." Aly waits for Sam to say something, but she's silent. "Would you like to provide me with your information? I've been asking people to provide me with their full name and their identity number, and with that, I can..."

"Frank didn't hold my Life Debt," Sam blurts.

Aly blinks, "He didn't? So..."

"He owes me money."

"I see," Aly says slowly. "Unfortunately, that's something else that I can't immediately address. I'm still sorting through Frank's accounts, and they're proving to be more complex than I anticipated. It will be some time before I figure out a proper list of who he owed and..."

"I won't be there," Sam says. Panic grips her voice.

"You won't?"

"I won't." She takes a shuffling step forward, wringing her white-knuckled hands. "That's just it. He doesn't think he owes me. But he does. For services rendered. I did a job. But he only paid half. Half! I need the rest of it! I need those credits!"

Aly takes another careful look at Sam. Tiredness and frustration weigh over her entire body and slow her every movement. The few times he catches glimpses her bloodshot eyes, they look on the verge of tears.

"Sam... Captain Niner... If Frank's hasn't indicated your services as an outstanding payment..." Aly stops himself before stating the obvious. There were bound to disagreements like this within Frank's accounts, but there was no way for Aly to resolve them. Most likely, claimants like Sam would leave empty-handed - unless of course, "Do you have some kind of proof of an owing payment? Maybe an invoice? Something to prove that you completed a job?"

Sam shakes her head. Her whole body is wound and shaking.

"No! There's nothing! It was supposed to be secret! But I did what he asked! He owes me! I should have two thousand credits coming to me!"

"Sam, I'm sorry but if there's no evidence..."

"You don't believe me either! I'm telling you I did the job!" Sam screams, lifting her eyes off the ground to blaze at Aly. They're wide and half-crazed. "I looked for what he wanted everywhere I could! But there was nothing! I looked! I did! What he was looking for wasn't there! That's worth something isn't it? Isn't it?"

"Sam, please calm down. I want to help you but..."

"No you don't! No one wants to help us! She collapses into bawling heap in front of Aly. "I did it. I did what he asked... I looked where he asked... I need those credits! My wife is dying... She contracted the lung-wasting flu. She's too far gone now to be saved, but the least I can do is provide them a place in the Vault of Minds... Or she'll die! Gone for good! Oh please help..."

Aly crouches down and envelops Sam into a hug. The difficult and dangerous lives that Decanted live mean they're exposed to far more life-threatening injuries and diseases. The lung-wasting flu is a disease that's contracted in habitats with contaminated air oxygenators. It's an easily treatable sickness - assuming they could afford the payments, not to mention moving to a more decent living situation.

"Listen, Sam," Aly says, patting the captain's back. "There isn't much I can..."

Suddenly Aly is gasping for breath.

Sam's face, contorted in desperation, is centimeters from his own. She twisted around and grabbed him the throat. There's a sharpness biting into Aly's neck. From the corner of his eye, he sees the glint of a knife.

"I don't care about your excuses! I need those credits! Give them to me!" Sam screams. "Please! I need to save my family! When will we ever be free of you Mazers! You and your father have tormented us long enough!"

"What? What do you mean? Do I know you?" Aly manages to choke out. He's genuinely confused. Besides what Frank's done to her, he doesn't know how else he could be involved. " "You Mazers! You fucking Mazers! You're just like your father!" Sam screams again. "You only remember what you want! You never remember what you've done to the people you've crushed!! Save my family! Give us a chance to join the Singularity! You... Eeeeeeyaaaaa!!!"

With a piercing shriek, Sam falls to the floor, writhing in pain. In shock, Aly fears she's had some sort of seizure... but when he looks up, he sees Smiley and M4ry standing a few feet away. Smiley is looking on in disgust, while M4ry's chassis is crouched in her intervention stance. Her taserbaton is extended and vibrating with a new electric charge, ready to strike again.

"Many apologies for not having come sooner, Aly," M4ry says. "Would you like me to have the police come to apprehend this person?"

"No, no, it's fine. There's no need for that. You can both go," Aly replies. He gives a reassuring look to Sam who seems about to soil herself in terror.

"Are you certain, Aly? This person has threatened you with physical harm. A risk of continued violence is still present." M4ry warns.

"It's fine. I can handle this," Aly repeats.

"As you wish," M4ry replies returning her to her resting position, and turns to leaves the room.

"You can leave too, Smiley, I..."

Smiley ignores Aly, as she fixes a contemptuous glare on Sam.

"I told you not to cause any trouble. Damned fool. We really should call the police on you. It would serve you right to be dragged away from them. See if you can pay for your family then."

"No! Please no! I'm sorry, Miss Halver!" Sam says, cowering on her knees in front of Smiley.

"Now, Smiley. I said it's fine..." Aly tries intervene.

Smiley continues as if he isn't even there. "And to think you're wasting your time trying to get your family into the Vault of Minds. Stupid."

"It's all we have left! I have no choice!" Sam pleads.

"No choice? No choice? What about your own people?" Smiley demands, causing Sam to bow her head. "Pathetic."

"That's enough, Smiley," Aly says, raising his voice. "I can take care of it from here..."

"Get out of here and don't come back," Smiley barks.

Before Aly can stop her, Sam scrambles to her feet and rushes out of room. He's about to follow after, but Smiley stops him with,

"There's someone here to see you."

"I'm sorry? Someone to see me?" Aly repeats. "But there was no access request. Or was there? Did it happen when the captain was here? Who was Sam anyway? How do you know her? What's..."

"They're waiting in the spare room."

"In the spare room? Why are they there? Smiley, what do you..."

But Aly's questions find no purchase, as Smiley turns and walks away.

Shaking his head, he takes a deep breath, and hurries to the spare room. It's not so much a "spare room" as one of the many areas where Frank stashed his piles of emergency rations. It's hardly a place to make someone wait, so Aly tries to get there as fast as he can.

When he gets to the room, his mind is still racing, trying to puzzle out what happened and who the captain could be. It's no surprise he's completely dumbfounded when a hand lands on his shoulder from behind and roughly spins him around.

"Hey, there Aly. How's my little brother?"

It's Dimi.

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# Chapter 12: The betrothed

Dimi grins at Aly's shocked expression. It looks like he's about to pop a blood vessel making sense of her appearance. She couldn't have timed it better.

"Dimi!" her brother says finally. "What are you... How can you... What is..." He shakes his head and tries again. "Dimi! Where have you been? Are you alright? I've been worried about you! How did you even get in? Aren't the police looking for you? Isn't it dangerous for you to be here?"

Dimi chuckles and gives Aly a pat on the shoulder.

"Relax, Aly, relax! It'll be fine. It's all fine. I'm safe, you're safe, we're all safe! No one's going to find me here, unless you call the police on me. But you're not going to do that are you?" She beams when Aly shakes his head - though she can't help wondering about his brief hesitation. "Smiley let me in the through the service port. A little tight for me, but I've crawled through worse. There were some nasty discharge tubes we had to wade through to get to one group of rebels that I can tell you about... but not now! Maybe later! I've been taking good care of myself. See? I look good, right? Trimmer than I was, huh? Don't I look good?"

She looks terrible. Haggard may be the charitable description. Drawn, pulled thin, and repeatedly dragged over a bed of oscillating cerasteel saws and then tossed in a slurry of piss and shit would be more accurate. She feels worse than she looks.

She's been on the run for the past week. It was easy at first, fun even, as she dodged surveillance drones and gave the slip to Martian police patrols. But the good times came to an end when the police posted their damned reward. Fifty thousand credits! It was a fortune for anyone, but all the more so among the people she was finding sheltering with. Before, she had her pick of places to hide. Every time she stepped into a Decanted bar, folks rushed to buy her drinks and shake her hand. It was a blast. But with that reward, they couldn't afford not to turn her in.

Then things got really serious when the mercenary bounty-hunters started showing up. They were no joke. And they definitely weren't sloppy like the police. Dimi had to sober up real quick to fend them off. If she stayed in one place more than ten minutes, she'd leave a trackable pheremonal imprint and they'd be on to her. Food, she had to grab on the fly, usually by yanking an energy tube out of someone' mouth even as they were sucking on it. She'd tried to find Greta, but the woman was in none of her usual haunts. Damn her! This can't go on! Dimi's been pushing her luck way too far. Rest. That's what she needs.

"...about it? It's something that can help us all. Dimi? Dimi? Are you listening? Are you alright?" Aly asks.

Dimi startles herself back into the moment. Right. She's in a room with Aly. He was trying to tell her something.

"Yeah, sure. I'm listening, Aly. I'm right here. I heard you. No need to get excited, ok? ...what were you saying?"

Aly frowns. "I was asking about Frank's Earther artifact that everyone is looking for. The one that was stolen? The Inquisitor, Ivan, everyone seems to be looking for it. Do you remember anything about it? I think I'm seeing clues for it in Frank's records, but I can't figure anything definite. Maybe you can help. There's nothing specific, but could the artifact be something that was in the Labyrinth? Or maybe somewhere at the bottom of the Marineris Valley?"

Something jolts Dimi's mind. Painfully. She winces and grits her teeth. It feels like a sonic driller is grinding her skull from the inside.

"Dimi? Are you ok? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," Dimi growls, waving Aly away. Her temper flares, and she lets it burn away the pain. "Again with that stupid artifact! Will you guys stop pissing me off about it? No! For the last time, Aly! No, I don't know anything about it!"

"Yes, but..."

"Damn it, Aly! Don't you think I would tell you if I knew something? Do you think I like having every motherfucking fucker on Mars trying to fucking catch me?" She immediately regrets her outburst as Aly shrinks away. She rubs her forehead to ease the throbbing. "Look, Aly, don't give me that sad look of yours, ok? I'm trying, alright? I'm doing the best I can."

Aly's expression softens. "It's alright, Dimi. I understand. But this artifact could be our solution. It could clear everything up."

Dimi forces herself to breathe through her impatience. She closes her eyes, counts to three, and opens them again.

"Aly. I get it. I want to clean up this shitshow up too," Dimi says. "But I need help. I need you to help me with something."

To her relief, Aly replies immediately without hesitation:

"Of course, Dimi. What do you need? Anything I can do to help, I'm happy to do."

Dimi takes a deep breath. She thinks back to what's she's practiced saying in her head. But even though she's gone through it a hundred thousand times, she still needs to gird herself to say the words.

"I need you talk to Katy for me. You have to give her a message."

"Katy? You want me to talk to her? For you?" Aly says with predictable surprise.

"Yes, Aly. I need you to talk to her for me," Dimi says, fighting back pangs of embarrassment. "She's the only one who can help me now."

"She is?"

"Yes."

"But..."

"I need you to tell her..."

"Me though? I mean she's your fiance so wouldn't it..."

"Aly! Damn it! Will you not let me finish what I'm about to say?" Dimi grinds her teeth. "Ok fine! What is it, Aly? What's bothering you?"

Aly chews his lip, looking uncomfortable. "It's just that Ivan asked me not to talk to Katy."

"Oh, for... And you listened to him?" Dimi groans. "No, don't answer that. Look, Ivan may be the smart one of the three of us, but he's a real selfish asshole when he wants to be. He's trying to control the situation for himself, ok? He's not doing it for 'us.'" She snorts. "Thing is, he doesn't get what I get. He doesn't understand that if I'm out of the picture for a little while, then things will calm down and everyone will forget everything and everything will be back to normal. See? That's it. That's the solution. I just need to disappear! It's a win for everyone and it's dead easy too!"

But in response to her brilliant solution,

"Dimi, I'm not sure that..."

"Aly! I need you to help me, ok?" Dimi flings her arms in the air. "I need my little brother to talk to Katy and solve a big problem for me. Come on, Aly. Will you just help me out with this?"

Aly's mouth opens, but he closes it and nods. "What do you want me to say to Katy?"

"Good! Thank you! That's all I'm asking!" Dimi blows out a gust of relief. "It's simple. You need to tell Katy to give me eight thousand credits in burner-chips. She can get them, don't you worry. You tell her that I'll use those credits to disappear from her life. Forever. I know what you're thinking. She won't let me break our engagement. But you tell her this: honor has been satisfied. There's not one scrap of it left to cling to. I don't care. No one cares. Tell her exactly that and use these exact words, 'Not one scrap of honor left.' That's me! I've got no more honor left for her and her damned family. Can you tell her that for me? Please?"

After a moment of silence, Aly says, "Yes, Dimi. I can do as you ask."

"Great. Fantastic. Thank you!"

"But..."

"Damn it!"

"But, Dimi, I don't understand why it will work." Aly says patiently. "It doesn't make any sense. Why would Katy agree to this? Hasn't she been refusing to break your engagement under any circumstance? How is telling your message any different? Why won't this be a waste of time?"

Dimi feels herself about to explode, but she clips the detonation wires in her frazzled mind. Aly's question is reasonable. There isn't any apparent reason why Katy will say anything different.

"Okay, Aly. Okay. You win," Dimi says, flinging her palms at him. "You're right. You have no reason to think Katy would change her mind and free me. But let me tell you a story that will turn you to my side."

Her face splits into a feral grin. "Do you know how we met? How Katy and I hooked up? No, huh? No one does. Not really. There are lots of stories out there, none of them true. They don't know shit. Here's the real deal. Here's why that bitch Katy won't let me go. See, it started about a year ago when I was still in the service..."

Dimi is almost wistful as she recounts the time when she was a respectable member of a mecha-assault combat unit: the Sweet Sixteens. Officially, their designation was Battle Unit 91A, but if anyone called them that, they'd experience "communication anomalies" until they were properly addressed by their callsign. They also responded to "the Sweeties" for short - though only from other friendly units. The name came from the fact that all the members were Sixteener vatmates. Except for Dimi, naturally. Equally naturally, she shouldn't have been assigned to them. At least not for long. By convention, battle units were the lowest level of combat units. The grunts. Only Decanted were assigned to them. So how did Dimi, a genenorm, get there?

No surprise, Dimi's record in the service was not a stellar one. Well, she sorta had stars on her record. Lots of them. Black ones. 'Cuz black holes are stars, right? Yeah, she had something of a problem with authority. She got each of the black marks when she crossed one of her tight-assed, clueless superiors. Which happened to be all of her superiors. Really, there was not one officer that she wouldn't talk back to or publicly mock.

But although she was a disrespectful smart-ass who'd done more than enough to get turned out of the service many times over, she never was. Why? Because she was good. Damn good. She was one the finest mecha-suit operators in the service. Surprised? Well, it was much of surprise to her as to everyone else that she turned out to be a damned genius when it came to operating mechas.

If there was one thing Dimi knew when she was growing up, it was that she was a fuck-up. She wasn't smart like Ivan. She wasn't well-liked and sweet like Aly. She was a useless, ugly-ass bag of farts that no one wanted anything to do with. Growing up, she'd heard of the ancient Earther myth of a greedy tyrant having the "touch of gold." She had something like that too. Only it wasn't gold she made, but shit, usually the liquidy, chunky, stinky kind that splattered out unpredictably and ended up in surprising places you only discovered later because you were trying track to down some foul smell.

So she joined the Martian Military. She figured joining the service and possibly getting killed was the least she could do to prove that she was worth something. It turned out to be the best decision she ever made. In her assessment trials, she scored so high on her mecha-compatibility tests that they made her take it two more times. She scored better each time. Thinking it was some kind of freakish anomaly, her testers threw her into a trainer mecha-suit way earlier than appropriate to see how she would do. She fucking nailed it. It was like she was born to operate a mecha-suit. In mere days, she was able to execute maneuvers that an experienced operator would need a month to become proficient on.

With her talent, plans were made for her and her career path charted out in detail. She was fast-tracked for officer training. She was going to get the best teachers and the most advanced mecha-suits. There was some debate if she was going to be slotted in the Spec-Ops division or the Strat-Deployment crew, but there was no question she would be put in their most elite corps. Because she was going to be the Martian Military's new super-star mecha-pilot they would be advertising all over the media as their feel-good story that was going to inspire everyone to greatness.

Ha!

The more expectations they piled on her shoulders, the more Dimi refused to dance to their tune. She'd pilot her mecha and take it into battle like the genius she was, but she refused to bow down to her commanding officers. But good as she was, there was only so much of her disrespectful attitude that would be tolerated. Pretty soon, her commanding officers tried to force her back in line with fines, reprimands, and longer and longer stints in the brig. It changed nothing. At the end of their wits, her superiors decided that something else, far more drastic was needed to put her in place. They needed to shame her. And that's how she was posted to the Sweet Sixteens. Since nothing could be more humiliating that serving with a bunch of lowly cannon-fodder deeks.

It wasn't humiliating at all! It was awesome! Dimi couldn't have been happier serving in her new battle unit. Sure, the food wasn't as good, and their barracks were smaller, colder, and smelled like cleaning fluids, but then again nobody was telling her to do anything stupid like walk straighter, or talk with better "diction," or generally be told that she was ugly and that she desperately needed to go to the body-modders to change her face. Nah, there was none of that. Her new Decanted buddies were fun! They were hilarious! And they accepted Dimi exactly as she came.

So when her commanding officer came by to see if she'd learned her lesson and if she was ready to be a proper soldier from now on, she told him to stuff himself right back up into his pretentious gold-plated ass. She was too happy to laugh in his face, as she spat on his pride and superiority. Leave her alone, she said, and everyone will be happy. But they didn't leave her alone. See, Dimi was flaunting the accepted order. This was unacceptable. An example needed to be made.

This was how Henry LeoAng came into her life and fucked everything up.

Who was Henry LeoAng? Or more correctly, who was Commander Henry LeoAng First Class? He was a hero. Not just any ol'hero. He was a hero from the Earth-Mars Planetary War. Stories of his exploits were told on the network through various kinds of enactments and interactive vidplays. His famous service record almost - almost, but not quite - surpassed the importance of his family, the LeoAngs. He was like a gigantic cudgel of respectability and reputation - aimed directly at Dimi to pummel her into being a proper soldier.

Dimi is embarrassed to admit their new strategy worked. How couldn't it? Hell, Dimi grew up on stories of Henry LeoAng's titanomech unit and how he lead his titanomechs against the Earther warmachines! When she saw him standing in their barracks doorway, glowering into the room with his famous laser-eyed expression and his sexy jagged scar across his brow, Dimi's jaw dropped. But she had little time to rub her eyes in disbelief, because he immediately started barking at Dimi and the Sweet Sixteens, ordering them to suit up and drill. And they did! They executed his commands with zeal! No surprise, the intensity of his drills was ludicrous, but neither Dimi or any of the other the Sweet Sixeteens complained. It was Henry LeoAng! He was commanding them!

Believe it or not, Dimi cleaned herself up. She got decent. She was polite. Her uniform was clean. She was punctual. She was sober. She did everything she could to win Henry LeoAng's approval. ...And slowly an idea lodged in her head. She started thinking maybe she could become an officer! Like Henry LeoAng! She would have to switch out of the Sweet Sixteens, of course... but it would mean that she could be at the top like her hero! Be one of the best!

Shyly, she asked Henry if her dream of becoming an officer was even possible. She was insanely thrilled when he said yes! But only so long as she kept up being a good solider. Yes! Yes, sir! She responded immediately. She could do that! She would do that!

And, after about a month of her bootlicking, Henry started giving ever more promising indications that she could become an officer. As if to prove it, she was invited to the Annual Victory Gala! The Victory Gala!?! The event where only the highest ranking members of Martian society were allowed to attend? Before, she would never be allowed within a hundred meters of the event. And now she was going it!

At the gala itself, Dimi had to focus hard not to fall over from her awe of basically... everything. They were in The Great Dome, the ceremonial hall that was built within an extinct volcano. Its sides were lit up and dancing with light. Towering above them were pillars of solid diamond, holding up the Arches of the Martian People, which were garlanded by platinum tinsel, spiraling up and around. Amidst all this, she had no idea how to act, so she straightened herself in her dress uniform, grunted and saluted, generally playing the stoical soldier. She was determined to make Henry LeoAng proud.

But where was Henry? She wanted to talk to him. To thank him. And most importantly, she wanted to formally ask him to be her sponsor to become an officer. But she couldn't find him. She wandered the Great Dome back forth a half-dozen times milling through the crowd and smiling for the vid-drones, but she found no trace of him. Eventually, she bribed a few of the Decanted servants to help her out. Really, she should have started with them. They always knew the score.

After palming her credits, a waiter lead her out of the Great Dome, into a storage complex, and up a gilded elevator shaft. Bewildered, Dimi was only just managing to keep herself together. But she lost it when she stepped out the elevator. She had to take a good few minutes to register what she was seeing and feeling. Because she was surrounded by moistness. Water! In the air! The air was so saturated with it that a slick of sweat formed on her skin and her face. She'd stepped into a private dome-habitat. This was how the truly wealthy domies lived.

But even more absurdly, the dome had vegetation. The ground was covered by huge purplish-brown stalks, each the thickness of her wrist and over four meters high. They were experimental pseudo-grasses meant to one day be planted on the surface and oxygenate the atmosphere. In the middle of those purple grasses, Dimi caught sight of a clearing. And then she heard laughing. A private party was going on. Against every warning claxon blaring in her head, Dimi was drawn to it, and for some instinctive reason she couldn't place, she kept quiet as she approached. The sounds of laughter and the clinking of glasses grew louder.

A dozen or so men and women were lounging on recliners, each attended by an immaculately-dressed Decanted servant. Henry LeoAng was sitting among them. The people congratulated him as he tossed something back in a crystal-cut glass. He won their bet, they said. More laughter. Money was coming to him, they promised. He beat the odds and now he would get his reward. Some teased that he'd had an easy go of it using his reputation. Others said he was because his mark was too simple, and that really it wasn't much of challenge. Regardless, they were very pleased he won and put that uppity low-class scum back in her place.

"They were talking about me, Aly. I was his 'mark.' Me!" Dimi snarls, her fists clenched. The memories of their laughter still burned. "Can't tell you how much it took to keep myself from rushing out and strangle my so-called 'mentor,' the fucking famous Henry LeoAng. Fuck, I really wanted to pound that lying, manipulative fuck into the ground and piss on whatever was left. But I knew that if I wanted my revenge against that domie motherfucker, I needed to plan my moves.

"And you know what? I knew I would get justice, because I noticed an important detail when the party-goers were clapping Henry's back and singing his praises. I've always been good at reading people, you know? When they were telling Henry he'd won and he'd be getting his pile of credits, you know what I saw? I saw that Henry could barely contain his joy. Not just joy, Aly. Relief. Now why would a celebrated war hero be in need of credits?

"Because that fucker Henry LeoAng was swimming in gambling debts. It wasn't hard to find his ledgers once I knew what to look for. And trust me, I know where to look for that kind of shit! I know all the best bookies on the planet!" Dimi explains grinning. "Seems like he had something of an addiction. The guy owed over five hundred thousand credits to bookies and gambling houses all around the planet. But most of that would get cleared by his payout, so I knew I needed to act soon!"

Dimi slaps her thigh and laughs.

"And this was where Katy came into the picture! I'd known about her before, of course, but I'd never talked to her. Never had the courage, I guess. But I had good reason to after her dad fucked me over. I asked her for a meeting. Obviously, she declined my first few requests, but when I told her I knew something damaging about her father..."

"Dimi," Aly says aghast. "You didn't..."

"Threaten to reveal his shame to the public? Yes! Ha! That's exactly what I told Katy!" Dimi laughs. "Don't look at me like that, Aly. It was supposed to be a joke. No, really it was! I told Katy I would reveal to the whole network that her father was a gambling addict... unless she agreed to marry me!"

"She can't have..."

"Oh, but she did! She did it because I told her that I didn't actually want to marry her," Dimi grins at Aly's confusion. "I swear by the Singularity it's true! Marrying her was never the goal. The whole point was to humiliate her father. Well, that was my goal anyway." Dimi scowls. "But Katy had a goal too. I swear that woman is too smart for her own good. She wanted to teach her father a lesson. She wanted to him to stop gambling. Her plan was that she would announce her engagement to me, which she figured would be enough to scare the motherfucker, and she would call it off if he apologized to my face and promised never to gamble again."

Dimi snorts.

"That was the plan anyway. It was a good plan. Before it went to shit." Dimi growls. "Shortly after announcing our engagement, the entire network went into overdrive covering it. They went nuts. It was the worst thing possible for the LeoAngs. The more the network covered us, the more it became humiliating. Because in marrying me, they'll be forever linked to gene-filth. That's me, by the way. The Chancellor nearly lost a vote of confidence because of it."

Dimi grimaces.

"It was so bad that Henry LeoAng committed suicide."

"Suicide?" Aly blinks. "Didn't he die in a training accident?"

"Yeah, it was a 'training accident' to help the LeoAngs save face," Dimi sneers. "Goddamn face and honor. That's all those LeoAngs care about. Look Aly, the LeoAngs are wankers. It's true! Under their gene-perfection and their sparkly reputation, the LeoAngs are just wankers like every other domie. But who cares right!? Doesn't everyone have a bit of an asshole streak in them? Sure they do! But that can't be possible for the LeoAngs. And if you find out, like I did, they're gonna do everything in their power to keep you quiet. That's what they did to me, Aly! They made me agree to keep quiet for the sake of their honor. Fuck that. I'm done protecting them. I've got no more honor left for any of them. I don't give a shit anymore. You tell Katy that. 'Not one scrap of honor left.' She'll understand."

"Dimi, I think..." Aly starts, but a beep from the house-com interrupts him.

"Incoming call request from Rae D'orro." Smiley's projection says. "She says she's running late, but if you give her access to the files she can start working them. Do you want me to let her call through?"

"Yes, I... I mean, no!" Aly corrects himself quickly, as soon as Dimi waves a hand in front of his face. "Tell her I'll call her back. Tell her... tell her I'll send her the access codes later. Tell her I'll meet her somewhere and let her know where as soon as I can."

"Fine." Smiley grumbles and disappears.

Alone once more, Dimi grabs her brother by the shoulders and gives him a shake. "So, Aly? What do you say? Will you help me out here?"

Aly nods ever so slowly. "Yes, I will, Dimi. I'll talk to Katy and I'll explain what I can."

"Great! Can you go right now?"

"...Now?"

"Yup! Tonight! Right now!"

"But Dimi..."

"Aly! No time like the present, right? Besides, I know she has a thing going on. One of her silly soiree thingys. Fuck I hated those. She'll be there in the LeoAng quarters."

"Their quarters? You mean all in the way in the Upper Domes?"

"Sure!"

"Well... I suppose I can..." Aly frowns. "But what if I say everything and she still says no?"

With her bravest, most confident face, Dimi replies,

"She'll agree, Aly. She definitely will." In the back of her mind though, the true uncertainty of her words lands on her, so she sighs, "Or she won't. Who knows what Katy thinks anyway?"

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# Chapter 13: The Party

Ivan certainly has no idea what Katy was thinking when she decided to go ahead and throw her bi-monthly soiree - despite the worsening aftermath of Frank's murder. In what absurd realm of probability could her party not be impacted, let alone be derailed into hoary mess? But he could see her point: if she didn't host her event as usual, then she would be admitting that things weren't fully under control. One hint of her and her family's weakness and there'd be a rush to tear them down.

Everyone looks nice enough. The dresses, robes, and suits are tasteful and stylishly fitted. The ceremonial uniforms are pressed and the official regalia polished and gleaming. No neck is unadorned, no fascinator is askew, and no boutonniere is unaccessorized. But under the smiles and pleasant chatter, Ivan hears catty, gossipy whispers. The exact words are impossible to make out with their privacy drones hovering above them, but their dismissive side-long glances at Katy's back leave little to the imagination.

Ivan grimaces. And to think that the whole point of Katy's soirees is to maintain her family's influence. They're part of a long tradition started by her great grandmother, daughter of Maurice Leo, one of the First Settlers. It was understood then that whoever was invited was someone of import. Many a political arrangement were hammered out here, and not just a few careers begun, often times with the LeoAng's explicit blessing. These days though, the soirees had become nothing more than mixers for dandified socialites looking for entertainment.

Entertainment like him.

He's aware that Katy intentionally invited here to pointedly defy the insulting aspersions that have been thrown at her family. By inviting him, a representative of the Mazer family, she was showing that she was still committed to Dimi and nothing would shake her resolve. Predictably, none of her guests got the message, and instead took the opportunity to needle him and provoke him to react. As a failed academic, a Non-Singularist, and with a family of aberrant freaks, failures, and suspected murderers, there's ample material for them to work with.

"Ahhhh, Ivan the Non-Singularist, how delightful that we meet at last!" a woman says, sauntering up to him. Her chin is raised, and her eyes are alight with the anticipation of confrontation. She's wearing the plain grey uniform of a Church novitiate.

Ivan lifts a brow.

"And you are?" He's not being facetious. He has no idea who this woman is. For a fraction of second, he worries she's a threat from the Inquisition. But just one look at her tells him that she's nothing. She may be part of the Church, but this undisciplined, over-confident woman is no sinister agent of the Inquisition.

The woman's face flushes, as muffled chuckles sound around them.

"I am Melinda Boshia!"

"Yes?"

"Melinda Boshia! I am also known as GreatFuture029! Do you know me now, blasphemer?" Still faced with Ivan's unmoving expression, she adds with a faint whiff of desperation, "I regularly debunk the your Non-Singularist propaganda on the network! I am your nemesis!"

Ah. Ivan now remembers this Melinda Boshia aka GreatFuture029. He's "debated" her numerous times on the network. Some time ago, as part of his attempts to regain the intellectual stimulation of the University, he'd posted a number of anti-Singularity screeds, couched in heavy jargon, referencing obscure articles, and obfuscated by convoluted arguments. They were stupidly irrelevant. He fully expected no one to about what he wrote, no matter how inflammatory his proposals were, precisely because they were undecipherable and would have no impact at all.

But this GreatFuture029 took it upon herself to disprove his claims, tracking down every reference and citation he made, in addition to back-calculating every statistic he'd constructed using fringe methods that were borderline quackery. For a little while, he amused himself by posting more essays in response - to which she spent even more time responding to him and attempting to discredit him. If anything, he had to acknowledge the work she'd put into her responses. He hadn't made it easy for her. Eventually though, he lost interest in the pointless flame war and stopped responding. Apparently, she'd taken his silence as victory over him.

Ivan turns to his "nemesis." A curl of amusement tickles his ribs.

"Well, hello, Melissa."

"Melinda!"

"As you wish. I suppose this must be an honor. Not everyone gets to meet their nemesis," Ivan deadpans. He feels a small inkling of guilt for taking such pleasure in this. "You know, Melinda, I've always wondered something about you novitiates. Perhaps you can help me."

"Is this about your little brother? Are you referring to his shame of being kicked out of our order? Are you going to beg for his reinstatement? His defrocking is permanent! Nothing can change that!" Melinda says.

The partiers around them edge closer. Ivan patiently waits for the crowd to build and for their hovering com-drones to fly into position.

"Oh, come now. Is that the best you have? Surely you know I don't care what happened to Aly," Ivan says blandly. "No, I'm not asking about my dear brother's sad dreams, but my question is somewhat related. Tell me Melinda, why is it that you novitiates have so many rules? In fact, why do you have any rules at all?"

Melinda frowns, struggling to see where Ivan is going with his question, but seeing no obvious direction to so obvious a question, she replies,

"Are you suggesting that we are chafing against our rules? On the contrary! We are proud to follow them to demonstrate our commitment to the Singularity. We take a vow of chastity knowing that true ecstasy can only be found in the Great Infinity. We take a vow of simplicity and frugality because we know that materials goods are fleeting and meaningless. We await the Truth, not faded falsehood. Only within the Singularity will..."

"...one find what's truly eternal and meaningful, and thus the only the mind is worth preserving and cultivating." Ivan completes. "Taken word for word from the 7th seminary presentation of the 2nd Arch-deacon of the Church of the Singularity far back in 2101, in the early days of your faith. Good to know you are putting your implants to good use by repeating obscure passages of scripture. Save us having to ask a drone to do it."

Melinda gnashes her teeth as the crowd snickers. "The words remain true..."

"True? Ah, yes truth. That's something of an obsession with your Church isn't it?" Ivan taps his. "Is it not also true that, and I quote your 4th Arch-deacon in his final address to his acolytes upon his deathbed moments before his brainscan, 'Nothing and everything will have meaning within the Singularity. No good, no bad, no beauty, no ugliness, no hate, no love. None will be as we now believe them to be. None of what we know now will matter in the Great Infinity.'"

"Yes, of course, that confirms..."

"So why aren't you running naked in the streets?" Ivan asks.

"What?"

"I said, 'Why aren't you running...'"

"I heard what you said! Your question makes no sense!"

"Doesn't it?" Ivan asks. "If nothing that we know now matters, then why would anything so small as going naked in the streets be bothersome? Why is it that you aren't wildly having sex constantly with everything human or drone or inanimate object you encounter? What do your rules matter?"

"As I said before," Melinda's lips curl in disgust. "We follow our rules to indicate that we..."

"Yes, yes, I heard." Ivan rolls his eyes, making a show of looking around to the crowd, as if to say, 'Is it just me, or is this one slow?' As he does so, he catches sight of his former classmate Koi, looking on discretely. They really shouldn't be there in any proximity to Ivan, but he's glad he caught their attention. "I am certain that we are all very impressed that your responses are predictable and redundant as a well-trained primary student. Very well, follow your rules then! Please do! Even if you are in contradiction with your scripture."

"What?! I am not in contradiction..."

"But you are. Because you haven't realized the simple message of your own scripture." Ivan pauses for drama. "And if you did, you'd know that if the Singularity exists, then everything is permitted."

Melinda's brows knit. A tendon pulses on her jawline. Her response would probably come more readily if she weren't surrounded by people and had the luxury of composing her replies in the silence of her room.

"Everything is permitted? That's nonsense!" Melinda cries. "Pure sophistry! It makes no sense..."

"It doesn't? Let me put it another, simpler way for you," Ivan says in his well-practiced slow, condescendingly didactic voice. "If the Singularity hides what's truly true, then what value is there in what we are doing now? By following your rules - indeed, by following any rules or any norms, should they be behavioral or social or legal - you are going against the very thing the Singularity promises, which is that no rules will matter. Perhaps the better question is this: why exactly are you following any rules? Is it to hedge your bets? Maybe you think that the Singularity won't come at all, so it would be wise to follow the rules of this world... just in case you're wrong."

"That's... plainly... ridiculous..." Melinda the novitiate splutters. "The Book of the Mind says 'The Singularity encompasses the now as well the future,' which means ..."

"You should be getting naked in the now and the future?" Ivan says. This time there's a hearty round of laughter. "Your Book of the Mind also states 'No mind can see past the veil of lies until the failures of the body are discarded.' Are you demonstrating this principle to us now?"

"You... you... you are twisting our words! What is this... this... everything is permitted?" Melinda spits, her voice becoming a panicked shrill: "You are lying! You know nothing! You..."

She falls silent as a hand taps her on the shoulder. Her entire body is lividly tense with righteous outrage - but when she looks abruptly at who would dare interrupt her, her body melts into submission. One of the Katy's servants is standing behind her. The servant isn't unkind, and is even smiling gently, but Melinda has gotten the message: she's disgraced herself. This was a warning. She's free to stay, but any more ruckus, and she will be forcefully ejected from the premises. Giving Ivan a baleful look, she turns and stalks away.

Ivan shrugs nonchalantly, as if nothing happened, and for a second, his eyes meet with Koi's, exchanging a brief flash of understanding that only a fellow academic could understand. His verbal exchange with Melinda, while mildly stirring, was hardly anything compared to those that happened within the halls of the University of Olympos. Those were the real debates, where true intellectual viciousness could be fully unsheathed and used to cut down one's opponent with savage relish.

Truthfully, he shouldn't have engaged with the silly woman. She's a poor stand-in for the real person he wanted to crush not just intellectually, but in every way possible: Inquisitor Zos. He's still outraged at what the bastard whispered in his ear.

"You know, Ivan, that warning should have been for you. You shouldn't have pushed that novitiate like that."

Ivan turns to find Katy at his side. It never ceases to amaze him that she's, as always, beautiful in every way possible. The outfit she's chosen to wear is a blue-cream suit with chromed titanium buttons. The ends of her sleeves and pant legs flare out into subtle curves, giving her every motion a wavy, flattering accent.

"I did nothing that she didn't come looking for herself."

"Perhaps," she says, slipping an arm into his and leading him to a more secluded area. "Or perhaps you were finding the company I chose too unstimulating and you decided to rectify the situation."

Ivan says nothing. He knows better than to be drawn into a debate with Katy, as enjoyable as it is. It's unsettling she can see through him so quickly.

"I'm not convinced that you're meeting your goals with this event," Ivan says changing the topic. "No one here is any more predisposed to the LeoAngs than they were before."

"That isn't my only goal, as you know," Katy says. She waves a hand at her drone. Silence engulfs them as a privacy bubble generates around them.

"Fine. You're also showing that you're in control of the situation."

"It's not just that."

Ivan frowns. "No? What else then?"

"The question is," Katy says. "Did you get what you needed?"

Ivan's face turns to stone. "What do you mean?"

"Come now, Ivan. No games. Not with me."

"I don't play games."

"You attracted attention to you for a reason. People had an excuse to come closer where otherwise they wouldn't. So tell me: Did you get anything from your friend Koi?"

Ivan stares into Katy's insistent face. Of course she would guess. She was probably keeping an eye on him the entire night.

"I made contact with my former colleague," he admits grudgingly. "But I didn't get anything."

"And what were you planning on getting?"

Ivan sucks in his breath. "Katy, it's better if you don't know..."

"Why? Because it's illegal?" she asks. "Don't you think I'm far beyond caring about what's legal or not? Have you already forgotten that I gave you the money to pay off Smiley? If you have something about Dimi, then I want to know."

Ivan grimaces. She's entirely right. There's no reason why he shouldn't be telling her what he knew. Especially after he got her involved with that damned half-deek Smiley.

Less than a day after Smiley helped spirit Dimi away from the Inquisitor, she appeared in Frank's house, casually standing in the doorway to the room that Ivan had commandeered for his investigations. He tried to dismiss her, pointing out she wasn't scheduled to work that day. Her response was to arch her brow, as if surprised he couldn't see the obvious, and stated - deferentially, else Ivan would have thrashed her - that wasn't it best for appearances sake she be occupied? Her idiot facial expressions kept hinting at something else Ivan should know, but Ivan didn't have the slightest wherewithal to find out what.

Finally, Smiley insinuated that all she wanted was money. Fifty thousand credits in untraceable funds. With that, she would not only leave him alone, but she would avoid doing anything inconvenient like turning in Dimi in order to get that sum herself. Her eyes downcast, but with her smirk still visible, she added that the credits would ensure there wouldn't be any accidental incriminating slip-ups - like "someone" revealing to the police that "someone" was helping Dimi stay on the run. Ivan had no choice but to give her the damn credits.

But since all of Frank's money had been tagged, Ivan was forced to ask Katy for it. He'd expected having to explain the situation to her, but she immediately understood the need to silence Smiley - at least for the time being. Anything that would jeopardize the status quo of Dimi being on the run could not be risked. And so, Katy handed Ivan a solid gold piece of jewelry for him to pawn. It was a relic from the first settlement days. Even melted down, it would amply provide the money for Smiley's demands.

"I don't have anything that can help Dimi. Yet." Ivan says. "But I might in a few days, if Koi is able to do the analysis as I'm hoping. I sent them a spreadsheet with a list of locations where Dimi could have gotten the artifacts for Frank. Using their access to the University databases, Koi will cross-reference the locations to existing geographic features. But that's still assuming the artifact is also the reason why Frank was murdered."

"Why are you saying that? Why wouldn't it have to do with the artifact? Do you think there's another possibility?" Katy crosses her arms.

"No, I don't," Ivan says truthfully. But then he lies, "I just can't believe that the Inquisition would make such a big deal over a simple artifact."

"Who knows what the Inquisition wants? It's time that they stop controlling our lives. They have long outlived their usefulness." Katy says angrily. But what she says next catches Ivan's attention. "And it's not the Inquisition anymore. My contacts tell me that the government is also taking an interest in this. They've sent their own agents out to find Dimi."

It takes effort for Ivan to stay calm, as he says, "It's likely nothing. I imagine that they are just interested because the Church is. The government probably thinks there's something to gain in their power struggle with them."

"But you have to admit that it is worrying."

Ivan says nothing. He knows why the government has gotten involved. He expected them to, but he's surprised they're being this visible.

"Do you think there's any way we can get Dimi cleared?"

"Maybe," Ivan shrugs. He honestly doesn't care. "If we can figure out what this is all about then maybe we can backtrack the killer's motives and work from there. We'll see what Koi says. I should get something from him soon."

Katy inclines her head. But instead of moving on as Ivan would like, she asks, "And you? What about you?"

"What about me?" he replies, looking away from the concern in her eyes.

"Ivan. How are you doing? The last week has been trying on you."

"Trying? Nonsense. What makes you say that? I..." Ivan starts as Katy lays a hand on his arm.

"Ivan. Look at me," she says, her voice soft. "I'm worried about you. You haven't been yourself. You may hide behind your thoughts and your arguments, but I can see that things are not well. Something is straining you. There's something going on that you haven't told me."

The first words that spark at his tongue is derisive, mocking denial. What? She's worried about him? What risible silliness. ...but, looking to into her eyes, beckoning him to rest at last after the months of mourning he's endured, he wonders once again whether he has found another kindred spirit, and whether he may risk surrendering to his urges.

Thankfully, Ivan sees a servant waiting patiently for their conversation to end. From their twitchy stance, she clearly has an urgent message to deliver.

"Looks like something urgent is going on," Ivan says, flicking his head in the direction of the servant.

Katy frowns, her hand lingering on his arm for another beat before she deactivates the privacy bubble and waves for the servant to come forward.

"Miss LeoAng? I'm sorry to interrupt, but you asked me to notify you if Aly Mazer is here," the servant says. "He's here, and he's asked to see you."

Katy's expression brightens, "Yes! Send him to my chambers. I'll speak to him there."

"And Miss?" the servant says. "The protestors are starting to assemble."

Katy sighs. "Let them assemble as usual. It's about time for the evening to end anyway,"

"Yes, Miss," the servant says before scurrying away.

Decanted protests always coincide with her soirees. Since the protestors knew that the most important people on Mars would be gathered in her Katy's house, they took the opportunity to make their grievances heard.

"Well, shall we go speak to Aly?" Katy asks. She gives Ivan a wry smile. "Aren't you curious to see why he's come even though you told him not to, despite my every invitation to him?"

But Ivan replies, barely containing his irritation,

"I have nothing to say to Aly. It would be a waste of my time. If he wishes to speak to you, then he can do what he pleases."

Without another word, Ivan strides away. He can guess why Aly has come. It's Dimi. She's gotten to him. Damn both those fools and their foolishness. They'll only complicate his task.

His only consolation, small as it is, is that he knows Aly's mission will fail. His, on the other hand, categorically will not.

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# Chapter 14: Memories and remembrances

Aly is having a hard time staying on message. He blames the many distractions challenging his focus, only one of which is Katy's intense expression and her depthless, intimidating eyes threatening to mesmerize him into incoherence.

"You see Katy, Dimi thinks that by not being around, it would alleviate the media pressure... Sorry, I mean the police pressure..." Aly hesitates. He may have already mentioned this. "...but you know, I think that she may have meant both. Uh, yes. I'm certain of it. And she also she said she needed eight thousand credits in burner chips so she could..."

He's interrupted by a rhythmic pop-popping in the distance. A series of muffled detonations follows. The Martian Police is deploying crowd-control measures. The protest outside Katy's home soured soon after her guests fled to safety.

"Hold for moment, Aly. I need to check on the situation outside," Katy interrupts. "The police assured me they would use non-violent measures. They need to be reminded that the full complement of LeoAng surveillance drones are watching for any 'accidents.'"

"Yes, of course," Aly says, glad for a chance to gather his thoughts.

He doubts Katy's warning will be enough to restrain the police from their adopting their typical heavy-handed approach, even with surveillance recording their every move. But what he doesn't doubt is the justness of the Decanted's grievances. He's seen their suffering himself first hand, and indeed not an hour ago, he was faced with his own family's acts against them.

Aly sighs as his thoughts drift to Sam, the poor Decanted captain and her family. He understood why she would be so desperate that she would take a knife to his neck. And not just because Frank had cheated her. Because Sam and Aly have a shared history. He's ashamed he only remembered it on the way to Katy's habitat.

"Well! That should do it for now. We can be thankful that the protestors have been through this before and know how to get away safely," Katy says, returning to her seat. "Now, you were saying something about advantages?"

Aly blinks.

"Yes. Advantages. There will be advantages if... if we can...if Dimi could get away from some time. Things would calm down after that she said." Aly smiles and nods, trying to project certainty.

"That's her solution? To get away?" Katy shakes her head, a corner of mouth quirked upwards.

"I know it sounds a little... hard to believe," Aly says. "But she claims she knows how the Martian Police works and they'll lose interest over time if she's gone."

Katy gives him a measuring look. "Aly, you don't believe that do you? I agree it's quite likely Dimi believes the police will leave her alone and may have done so in the past, but that's because her infractions were so small they didn't matter. And she probably doesn't know I paid her fines so they would remove her from their wanted lists. But that's with small insignificant matters. The current situation is very different, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes. Yes, of course, but..." Aly says, feeling supremely silly for what he's said so far, but he remembers now it wasn't the only thing Dimi had told him to say. "She also had a message to give you. She had something specific she wanted me to tell you..."

Katy stops him again with a raised hand, as a servant whispers something in her ear.

"Sorry, hold that thought, Aly. There's something going on that I need to attend to."

As Aly sits back, he forces himself to visualize how to end the conversation with Katy as soon as possible. He decides that once he's given Dimi's message, he'll leave and figure out how to help Sam. Two thousand credits, Sam said she was owed. That was nothing compared to the hurt his father had done to her. If he could find that money himself then maybe...

"Those bastards! I'm glad I checked on those police! I knew they would they attempt to trap them like that! Disgusting. It would have been carnage! And they wonder why the Decanted are on the verge rebellion all the time. I hated doing it, but I had to crash our surveillance drones into the barricades and cause a fire to distract them. Expensive, but seeing the protestors get away was worth it," Katy says. "Now, Aly, what was it you were saying? Did you say Dimi had a message for me?"

Aly marshals his thoughts. "Uh, yes! A message. Dimi had a message. She said to tell you, 'Not one scrap of honor left.' She said you would understand. I think I have it right, she emphasized it a few times. She said to tell you that she had 'not one scrap of honor left.' Does it make any sense to you?"

"Those were her exact words? 'Not one scrap of honor left?'"

"Yes, exactly. Do you understand what..."

"I understand. Perfectly." Katy's face is a mask. "I don't want you to think about it any further. It's not relevant to our next steps." She leans in, places her hands her legs, and fixes Aly with an intense stare. "Listen to me, Aly. It seems like Dimi is willing to see you, so I need you to tell her something. She has to know that we are here to help her. Ivan and I are working to resolve her situation. It's good she's on the run and hasn't been caught, but that's only a temporary situation. Her best solution is to come to me, where I can protect her. Can you tell her that?"

"Yes, of course, but I'm..."

"Once she's with us, we'll be able to piece together the pieces of what happened," Katy continues. "It'll be tricky, but we all have a role to play. I have to say that your brother's role has been invaluable. Even as a fallen academic, he's maintained his investigative skills. However, neither he nor I can figure out why both the government and the Church is involved. My contacts can't figure out anything either. Everything is classified at the highest levels. The key of course is the Earther artifact that was stolen..."

Aly should be paying attention, but his thoughts again go back again to Sam. Surely there must be something he can do for her. He's gone through all the possible ways he could scrape two thousand credits together, but even emptying his own account would only result in a paltry five hundred or so credits. His other option is to ask for a loan, but though some shady bank may lend it to him, it's no doubt that it would attract attention, which would possibly cause problems for Dimi and certainly anger Ivan...

"Aly," Katy says. "Did you hear me? Are you listening?"

"...Yes. Yes, I did," Aly replies immediately, but he admits, "I'm sorry Katy, I wasn't paying attention. Can you tell me again what you and Ivan are planning?"

Katy frowns, as she studies him.

"What's going on?"

"...What? Nothing. I've just been tired and..."

"This more than that. You haven't been paying attention since you came here."

"No, I..."

"You weren't even able to properly tell me Dimi's message." Aly's face reddens, as Katy continues. "Something's bothering you. Something besides Dimi. What's going on?"

"It's nothing. Please, I..."

"Stop this, Aly. It's clearly not nothing," Katy says. "Tell me what's going on. I'm not a stranger, Aly. I'm your future sister-in-law. I would like to help you if you can. Tell me what's bothering you."

Aly again wants deny anything is going on, but the urge to unburden himself is too strong. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He imagines himself as a novitiate again, performing his vows to share the absolute, unhidden truth worthy of the Great Infinity.

And so he tells Katy about Sam. He tells her how she had attacked him. He tells her what he knows of the poor captain, her dying family, and how all she wanted to do was give them a chance to be placed in the Vault of Minds so they could join the Singularity. But she can't because Frank refused to her pay a sum that's owed to her. Unfortunately, Aly can't figure out if her claim is true or not, but it's undeniable that something is owed her based on the suffering that she's endured at Frank's hands - a history that Aly had taken part in.

Casting his eyes down in shame and embarrassment, he explains,

"I know Captain Sam Niner from long ago. When I was a child, my father would take me on his visits to his habitats. I was ten at the time, and by then Dimi was already living on her own, and Ivan had left for school. Frank used to say often that I was too sensitive for my own good and these trips would be good to 'toughen me up.'

"It was as terrible as you would expect it to be. His stated goals of the visit were to make sure his habitats were in working order and his renters were complying with the sanitation rules. Of course, he didn't care about any of that. The reason he visited the habitats was to demand rent payments from any late payees... but even that wasn't the real reason.

"The real reason for his visits was to coerce all those who couldn't pay into binding agreements over their Life Debts. Once he did that, he could make them do anything he wanted. But he didn't do it in a typical way. He didn't bully them or hire goons to push them around. That was too straight forward for Frank. If he was going to do anything, he had to it in the most degrading and humiliating way possible. It had to be a spectacle.

"You see, when he got to one of his habitats, he gathered everyone in from of the building and announced, 'And now it's time for everyone's favorite reality game Dancing with the Deeks! Let's make a star today!'" Aly shakes his head at the memory. "It was some kind of Earther reference no one but he understood. Even then he was unhealthily interested in Earthers.

"With a big wave, he donned his visors and started randomly naming people. For each person he called out, he told them if they were late on their payments or not. If someone was up to date he'd say, 'We got a survivor!'. But if they weren't, he'd scream, 'We got a contestant!' And then?"

Aly takes a breath.

"Frank looked at them and said, 'So you think you're going to be a star, punk? Let me make you an offer you can't refuse. Either you sign over your Life Debt to me, or you can do my mystery challenge and you get to live another day!' Some may say this was generous. It wasn't.

"His challenges always found ways to demean and humiliate them in front of their families and neighbors. His favorite would to have them remove their clothes and pretend to be early batch Decanted with limited mental faculties. If they were willing and they performed to his satisfaction - with 'conviction' as he put it - Frank would give them a month's grace. He said he didn't mind losing out his money, because the next month he would come back to them with a new, much worse challenge. That was part of the 'fun.'

"This was how I met Sam. She was one of the tenants who refused to break down and sign her Life Debt over to him. She'd been willing to do all his challenges for six months now, but Frank said he was going to get her soon. He claimed he had something good for her that she would never do. When he got the residents lined up, the first thing he did was point to Sam and made his usual offer, but he reminded her, 'Remember you have to do the whole challenge. If you don't, you'll forfeit your attempt.'

"Undeterred, Sam agreed. I remember seeing my father's horrible smile as he deployed his comdrone and had it hover over Sam. As its imager activated, Frank said, 'Sing the words you see. Loudly. You better be sincere about it. And there'll be dance motions you gotta do too. Remember that drone will be measuring your conviction, you hear? You fall below seven out of ten in conviction, you lose. Got it?' Sam nodded. But just as she's about to start, Frank adds, 'And don't forget to smile my dear little stubborn deek. All of Mars will be watching.' Frank had arranged to broadcast Sam's 'performance' on a public channel. Everyone would witness her humiliation.

'The song was disgusting. It repeated every possible slur against the Decanted, while forcing her to act out every stereotype in graphic detail. But Sam did it. She made faces. She slapped her behind and tugged at her breasts and waggled her hips. But because Frank knew she would, the song continued past mocking the Decanted and began slandering everyone. Veterans, workers, the government, and then, most shockingly, the Church of the Singularity and the Singularity itself.

"I don't doubt that Sam would have gone on singing, but she was forced to stop when Frank's comdrone was knocked down and the music fizzled out. It wasn't one of the other tenants who did it, as I'd hoped. It was a Church official. To my horror and shame, the official had been nearby during the broadcast, and came immediately when Sam began mocking the Great Infinity. I'll never forget the official. She was so angry. She screamed and screamed, demanding that Frank apologize for creating this blasphemy.

"But Frank had no intention of apologizing. Besides, as he pointed out to the official, he wasn't the one saying the blasphemy, it was that silly Decanted woman over there, who chose to say those things herself. She could have stopped at any time. Frank argued that he was only testing her faith and really the Church official should be thanking him for having found Sam out. The official wasn't fooled. Even then, everyone knew his reputation. But she knew that she wouldn't be able to pin anything on him, slippery man that he was.

"However, before she left, she said for all to hear, 'You are a disgusting man. Franklyn Mazer, you are not worthy of the Great Infinity. Act however you will now, but know that you will never be accepted into the Vault of Minds. Neither will any of your progeny. Your entire line will be erased from the future of Mars and denied the Singularity. You have been added to the List the Banned.'

"But Frank laughed in her face. He continued laughing as she strode off. He laughed harder when I ran after her begging and screaming to be forgiven. It took M4ry restraining me to get me back."

Aly chuckles and shakes his head.

"I guess you might say that was an influential moment in my life. After that, I became determined to join the Church and redeem my family so we could be worthy again of the Great Infinity. I was willing to do anything to be removed from the List of the Banned." Aly gives Katy a weak smile. "Of course, I later learned the list was a myth. And yet, the Church's official's words rang true. Frank had made my family underserving of the Great Infinity. How could I deny that after he's done such horrendous things to poor Sam?

"In the end, I believe that she succeeded in never signing her debt to Frank. But spiteful man that he was, he would never stop trying. Afterwards, he made sure Sam's 'performance' was widely viewed. Because of it, no one would hire her. And since he would be the only one willing to give her odd jobs, he ensured that she would always be tied to him and he could torment her. To his last breath, it seems he did. Whatever Frank had Sam do for him before he was murdered, I'm sure he designed it so he would be able to cheat her. It may not be much, but all I want to do is give Sam her money, so I can at least right this wrong."

For what feels like an eternity, Aly and Katy sit without a word. He's never told anyone this story. He tried his hardest to forget it, but he should have known he would have to face it one day.

Katy suddenly stands up, walks to an adjacent wall, and opens a storage cabinet. She returns and hands Aly a stack of burner-chips.

"You can give this to Sam," she says. "Let her and her family have hope for the future."

Aly stares at the money. He replies, "I... I don't know what to say. I... thank you, Katy."

"As you said, it is a small thing to do to ease the pain of a terrible past," Katy says. "I'm sorry you had to live through that as a child. Thank you for sharing your story with me. I believe I understand you more now."

Aly is about to thank her again, but Katy raises a hand to quiet him. A shadow darkens her expression.

"I'd like you to understand me as well," she says, meeting Aly's eyes. "You didn't mention if Dimi gave you any more information about the situation. She told you more didn't she? She told you about my father, Henry LeoAng. How he was a gambler?"

"She did, yes..." Aly says reluctantly. "But I know it's not true. Dimi was just..."

"Dimi was telling the truth. Henry was a gambling addict. He committed suicide out of shame."

"Oh."

"My family is not what it seems, Aly. We may be certified gene-perfect, but we're far from being perfect." Katy's lips twist. "But our reputation and image are what keep us in power and maintain our influence. Any break in that would mean our family would fall into irrelevance."

"I won't tell anyone, of course," Aly says immediately.

Katy flicks her hand. "It's fine, Aly. Maybe it's time for our family to step down. We've been in power for so long, maybe we've started to forget our duty to the Martian people. But my family doesn't see it the same way. That's why Dimi can't just 'go away.' Dimi knows too much about us. It's why I can't break off our engagement. Now that she knows about us, she must become one of us. Or she has to die."

"...what?" Aly manages to utter.

"Oh, don't worry. She won't die. I've put my foot my down on the matter. Because I also owe Dimi," Katy says. "She didn't tell you everything, you know. I know she made it sound as if we didn't care for each other, but that's not true. Admittedly, it didn't last, but we were in love."

She smiles.

"Don't look so surprised, Aly. Your sister has some very wonderful qualities to her, and I'm not just speaking qualities of physical nature. Dimi is the most honorable person I know. After my father died, the rumors of his gambling had started to emerge, threatening to engulf my family in controversy. She could have turned away or helped my family's accusers, but she defended me, Aly. She fought for my family. She never told anyone about what she found out. She said it was the honorable thing to do."

Aly frowns. "So why..."

"Why is she running away now? Why doesn't she want to go through with our marriage?" Katy completes for him. "Because she hates us 'domie wankers.' She hates our regimented lives, she hates our rules, and she hates the lack of freedom. She has a point of course... But before we last spoke, she said she would still consider getting married with me, because she felt it was the honorable thing to do. She said she would consider it until she had 'not one scrap of honor left.' I suppose her message to me means that she's finally moved on. I can't say that I blame her, but I have my own obligations to meet."

Katy pauses and reaches for Aly's hands, "That brings me back to you, Aly. Can you tell Dimi my message? Can you tell her that she must come to me so we can protect her? Dimi trusts you. She'll listen. Can you help me convince her to come back?"

A mess of emotions roil in Aly's heart, but he's seen how exhausted Dimi is. He knows she can't stay on the run forever.

"Yes, Katy. I'll try if I see her. I'll do my best."

"Wonderful! I knew I could depend on you!" Katy says brightly, giving his hands a squeeze. "I'll let you know if anything changes and..."

Her comdrone suddenly whirs into the air and activates. The image resolves into the features of Decanted man. He's wearing an unmarked mecha-suit. Behind him are more Decanted equipped in a similar manner. They're undoubtedly mercenaries.

"We've located the target, M. LeoAng," the man says. "We should be retrieving her momentarily."

"Good. Keep me apprised of your progress," Katy says before closing the connection.

Aly stares. "Were those mercenaries? Were they hunting Dimi?"

Katy nods. "Yes. I've hired them to capture her."

"But... but what if they don't catch her?" Aly protests. He doesn't voice his concerns about whether they may do much worse while 'retrieving' Dimi. Mercenaries weren't known for their gentle approach. "Won't it make her even more reluctant to come in?"

"That's a reasonable risk I'm willing to take," Katy replies. "But I have full confidence in this team. They'll get her. They know Dimi very well."

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# Chapter 15: Like old times

"Ha!" Dimi bellows defiantly out of her burning lungs. "Hahaha... ha! You'll never get me! Never!"

She's mostly convinced of it. And why not? She once again caught sight of her trackers and gave them the slip.

But if she had the time to analyze the situation - and if she didn't spit a fat loogie at the mention of analysis and such wasteful things like thought - she'd realize she avoided getting caught by less than a span of a few microns. That's the distance by which the tranquilizing flechette had missed her - thanks to a coughing fit that overtook her at exactly the right moment. Her time lurking in sub-breathable zones wasn't doing her any favors.

Then again, that cough caused the flechette to only graze her neck, scraping a faint trail of the powerful narcotic over her skin. It was far from enough to incapacitate her, but it did make her neck tingle pleasantly and had the added benefit of getting her a tiny bit high - just enough to help her forget her pain and run that much faster and better.

So Dimi concludes triumphantly,

"Hahahahahaha!"

With manic glee, she leaps and somersaults, breaking through an access panel. She's out in the open now. Surrounding her is a huge crowd of onlookers. They're well-dressed and covered in finery. They make no effort to hide their wrinkled noses and scornful expressions. Because of course they're disgusted by her. They're all gold-arsed domies! She's right in the middle of the plaza of the Starry Glitter Dome. It's a high-end dome-habitat filled with luxury shops, fine dining, and sophisticated entertainment. It's where the snootiest domies went to stick their diamond-flecked thumbs up their asses.

"Get out of the way! Move it!" a deep guttural voice roars.

"How dare you..."

"I said move it damn you! Move!"

A yelp and thud tells Dimi that the domie in the mercenary's way was forcefully pushed aside. But then, "I've got a bead on her! I'm taking it!"

"No! Abort! Do not take that shot!" another voice commands from further behind.

"What? I got her! I..."

"Do not fire! We can't risk damaging the dome!"

That's right! Dimi crows to herself. The mercenaries won't be able to use their fire arms under the dome! That's why she was hiding here! Isn't she brilliant?

Deprived of any of their high-velocity rounds, they'll be forced to use much slower and imprecise non-lethal munitions. Dimi figures they'll even be reluctant to use those since they'd end up having collateral impact, which in an average crowd would be fine, but in this group of high-falutin' spoiled brats... well, let's say you've never seen real fury and indignation until you've seen a rich domie plastered in crowd-control foam.

But then again,

klink... klink.... bzzzzzzZZZZT!

"Yeeeeeeeee!!!!! Arrghhhhh!!!! Nyyyyyyygggg!!!!"

It's the tell-tale sounds of a taser pulse-grenade being deployed to take down a large crowd en masse. Dimi's heard it a hundred times, but she needs to glance around to believe it. Incredible. Lying on the ground are at least forty people, many still writhing as the residual electrical charge jolts their limbs. Standing over them is a band of mercenaries. One of them, a thin fellow dressed in a light mecha-suit, raises the barrel of his rifle-canon and...

"Fuck!" Dimi curses and tumbles to the side, seconds before a wad of foam bursts and deploys beside her.

These people aren't kidding around! Her quick glance revealed they were a band of about seven. Very unusually, it looked like they were reasonably kitted out with a decent balance of gear. Too often, the mercenaries that came after her went too far either in the direction of heavy fire-power or ultra-light mobility, resulting easily exploitable weaknesses. Not these guys though.

The person shooting at her was clearly their sharp-shooter, with light armoring intended to make them active at a distance. Behind him were two heavies, wearing bulkier mecha-suits with plenty of hard points to attach heavy artillery. In this case, Dimi guesses they'll be relegated to crowd control or some kind of herder role. There are three other people in mid-range mecha-suits with an assortment of weapons that made them the most flexible with their skills. They're probably going to be the main ones she'll be dealing with. But it's the last person that worried Dimi. She only caught a quick look, but it's someone in a scout-type mecha-suit. Built for speed, that fucker may not be able to take her in fight, but they'll be able to tackle her and hold her down long enough for the others to arrive.

Dimi curses. These guys are damn near military grade! How the hell did she end up with this much heat on her?

The pounding and screaming behind her tell her she's got a good lead. She'll need every millimeter of it for her to get out of there. She dashes down another passageway, tossing some fancy-pants merrymakers out of her way. The blare of awful dissonant notes assaults her as she runs out into an open square. It's packed with people dancing in mesmerizing synch to rappy avant-garde music. But there's no time to make sense of it as...

...rumble... BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The explosions are at least a few blocks away, but the distance doesn't reassure Dimi. It means the mercenaries are blasting a holding perimeter. They're boxing her in! It's the smart move. Who are these people, she wonders, impressed in spite of her rapidly reducing escape-options. If these people continue as they're doing, she'll have absolutely no chance.

That's it though! Dimi forces herself to come to a stop. The adrenaline coursing through her veins wants her to continue running madly. But that's the dumb thing to do, she realizes. That's what those guys want her to do, and expect her to do! No! She won't play their game! They think they can take away her options and corral her? She'll show them what it means to make something out of nothing!

"Disperse! Get the hell out of here!"

"Move it, you fucking domies! Move your sparkly asses!"

Two of the mercenaries in mid-range suits yell and wave their weapons at the dancers who, predictably, either ignore them or flash their sparkly asses at them.

"Fuck this shit," one of them says, and pulls out a side arm to fire a volley of precision rounds, systematically targeting the sound system.

Dimi approves of this, and not only because of the fear they're inducing in this pampered crowd. Using the fleeing revelers as cover, she moves sideways and along the wall where there's a pair of tall decorative granite statues. The ugly things are typical domie body-mod fantasies. One has a bizarre combination wings and scaley arms, while the other has gills, enormous eyes, and fins. Dimi quickly scrambles to the top of the first one and perches between its wings.

"I'll be glad for this job to be over," one of the mercenaries mutters, moving to sweep the dance floor. As Dimi hoped, they're moving in a standard v-shaped pattern - one that will pass right under her position.

"Yeah, tell me about it," the other mercenary grunts. "If I don't have to see another set of platinum-plated genitals ever again I..."

The rest of it is muffled, as Dimi leaps onto both mercenaries, twisting her legs around one, and leveraging her body to force them to crash into the other. Fully surrendering herself to her battlereflexes, she becomes a flurry of vicious jabs and kicks, landing perfectly aimed hits on the mecha-suits' weak points. Her military training had imprinted her nerves with fight-reactions that set her body moving faster even than her thoughts. She hears satisfying grunts of pain with each of her blows.

Of course they would never expect for her to fight them head on. Of course! They had mecha-suits, while Dimi had nothing. But not anymore!

"Sucks to be you, assholes," Dimi says, as she fires two concussive suppression rounds, one into each of the mercenaries' chests. She'd stolen the repeater rifle off of one of them during the fight. It was set to fire non-lethal rounds, but those would sufficient to disable the mercenaries' mecha-suits at point-blank range. It also gives her license to brag, "Now I'm armed! Ha! Hahahaha!"

She's about to run away but,

"Dimi... you bitch..." one of the mercenaries groan.

It's a familiar voice. But it can't be. Unable to restrain herself, she leaps on to the mercenaries to yank their helmets off, revealing a Decanted man and woman.

"Martin! Gia! What the hell are you doing here!" Dimi exclaims. They're her old bandmates from her battleunit! Martin's the only one conscious though. Looks like she knocked out Gia with her blast. Oh, but she'll be fine. Both of them will. They were Sweet Sixteens! They were tough like her! "Are the other Sweeties here too?"

"What the fuck do you think?" Martin grumbles.

"Shit! Are you guys coming to help me?" Dimi says with hope.

Martin raises a brow.

"Help you? We picked up your contract. We're here capture you, dumb ass," he scowls and spits. "You thought we're here to help you? You? A traitor to the band?"

"What! I'm no traitor!" Dimi says angrily.

"You fucking abandoned us! You..."

Dimi shuts him up with a blow to the mouth. She reluctantly goes back on the run, her mind totally upended. Her old bandmates! How could that be? And how could Martin call her a traitor? Does he really think she abandoned them? Do they all think that? But why? Surely they can't! She's one of them! Isn't she?

Distracted, she's too late to react to a whirring distortion in her peripheral vision. Instantly, she knows what it is. In vain, she jumps as high as she can. But nothing can prevent her feet from getting bound together and cause her to slam into the ground.

"...Urg! Ow! Damn!" she curses, as she picks herself up.

As she looks down, she finds her feet tightly wound in titanium cable. Two steel balls dangle at either end. It's a bola, a low-tech weapon favored by many Decanted battleunits as they're easy to cobble together with spare parts. Sometimes weapons like those were the only ones they could resort to when the Earther warmachines found ways to corrupt their mechas.

"Stay calm, Dimi. I don't want to hurt you, ok?" a man's voice says.

Dimi struggles mightily, but slumps back when she's unable to get the cable loose.

The man chuckles. "Just like old times, huh? Remember when I tried to teach you how to use the bola? You never could figure it out."

"That's because it's a stupid weapon," Dimi growls.

"It got you didn't it?" the man retorts. He's now only a meter away from her.

Dimi looks up to see the mercenary in the scout mecha-suit, which meant he could only be,

"Hey Kang, let me out of this thing, will you?"

Kang shakes his head sadly, "You know, I can't do that, Dimi. I hate to do this, and I told the others that...ooof!"

With all the strength she could muster in her upper body, she planted her hands on the ground, coiled herself up, and vaulted into Kang's groin. Ha! Even with both her legs bound she's still a force to be reckoned with! Kang is only stunned though, so Dimi throws herself on top of him, rips off his helmet, and jabs him in the crown of his nose, knocking him out.

"Sorry about that, Kang," Dimi says, taking a second to check that he's still breathing.

Giving the unconscious mercenary an affectionate pat, she pulls out his plasma blade and uses it cut through the cable. Free once again, she picks up the rifle, gets back to her feet, and resumes her running. She calculates her odds: with three of them down, that left four, two of them heavies, one in a mid-range mecha-suit, and one sharpshooter. When she was in her prime, she could be beat these odds easily... but she shouldn't even be running away from them! These are the Sweet Sixteens! They're her bandmates!

"Dimi! Stop this!" an amplified voice booms from somewhere behind her. The commanding voice is all she needs to know it's Isa, the leader of the Sweet Sixteens. He's always been a reasonable guy, and Dimi's found him willing to entertain her ideas, crazy as they often were. But knowing any conversation is meant to slow her down, Dimi raises her arm and flicks her middle finger for all to see.

A glance ahead reveals she's close to getting free. Based on her previous recon of the area, she identified a service door that would lead into the sewage system. Once there, she'd be able to lose them in the maze of tunnels and twists and turns. But just as she's a hundred meters from the door...

BOOOM!

Dimi is thrown to the ground by a mine exploding under her. The holding perimeter. She misjudged where they placed them. The mines could have killed her, but it was set to go off before she entered the kill zone. She's lucky it was meant only to block her way.

BAM!

A precision shot blasts the rifle out of Dimi's hand.

"Forget it, Dimi! Let us bring you in!" Isa hollers.

Dimi looks up to see Isa and the three other Sweeties standing a few buildings away. They're all as she remembers them. As usual, Isa's forehead is creased in the middle with in a thin vertical line. They used to say they could tell how serious a matter was by the length and depth of the crease. It's pretty long now, reaching all the way to the edge of his hairline. Behind him is Pat, the one who took the precision shot. She's smirking, probably ready to crack a dozen jokes, all of them delightfully offensive. Beside her stands Horg and Y'in, the two heavies. They're both panting, suggesting they both ran here to catch up to her.

"Hey guys, just like old times, huh?" Dimi says with a smile.

Isa's forehead crease deepens. "This isn't a game Dimi. We're here to take you in."

"I didn't kill Frank! It's not me!"

"We don't care. That's not why we're here."

"So you guys are selling me out, huh?" Dimi scowls. "Thought you guys would value a fellow bandmate at more than fifty thousand credits."

"A hundred thousand."

"They raised the bounty? Ha! I guess I..."

"They didn't raise the bounty, Dimi."

"What? So..."

"We were specially contracted," Isa says. "By Katy LeoAng. Your woman. She offered us a hundred grand to pick you up. But we would have done it for less. You're no bandmate of ours."

Dimi's face flushes.

"That bitch! She's not my woman! She's a damned bitch! Fuck!" She needs to let that off her chest, before she can really express the rest of her outrage. "And what do you mean I'm not your bandmate? I'm a Sweetie! I'm one of you! How can you say that I'm not? We served together! We fought side by side! I saved your asses! You all saved mine! Isa! Remember when we were fighting on the Chrysalis ridge? Remember when I saved you from a sniper shot? Pat! Remember when we both had to drag Horg's blacked-out ass out of a sandpit when he slipped over a plasma trap? C'mon! And Y'in! How could you not remember how many times I had your back in a firefight? Remember when a whole host of diggers ambushed us? C'mon! I'm one of you! Why are you doing this to me?"

Her former bandmates say nothing during Dimi's pleading rant, but she can she's getting to them.

Isa chops his hand. "We've already discussed this and voted on this. There may have been a blooddebt, but we consider it paid by the fact we're taking you to your woman and not the police."

"I told you, she's not..."

"And you may have fooled us before, Dimi," Isa says, raising his chin and setting his jaw. "But we know that you never respected us. You played the part, but we were always only useless deeks to you."

Dimi reels as if she's been slapped. "How... how can you... How can you say that to me? The things I've done with you guys... The time we spent, how can..."

"You're the one who threw that all away when Henry LeoAng came along and you turned his little pet. Then you got engaged to his daughter and left us in the dust, never to be heard of again. Do you remember?" Isa says with a sneer.

Oh, right.

That wasn't her finest moment. So she'd gotten a little swept up in the moment, and things just kept coming up - like Katy and then Henry's suicide. She never had any time to circle back to her old bandmates and tell them what was really going on. She meant to though! From their perspective... she sees maybe things did not look good at all.

"Listen guys... That was a while ago, okay?" Dimi says, raising her hands. "You have to understand. I was taken by that fucker Henry's tricks, okay? I fell for it. And then there was Katy. She was a real good piece of ass, I tell you. And there was shit I had to do! Okay! So fine I fucked things up with you guys! I'm sorry, but I've always been one of you, ok? I..."

"We were willing to give you that chance," Isa says. "Don't you remember that we tried contacting you after Henry LeoAng died? We wondered if something might be going on that we could help with. We were trying to be good bandmates. But you never replied to any of our calls."

Right.

Dimi remembers now that she'd gotten a number of contact requests from them... and she was really meaning to respond to them. But things kept on happening! Also... she was drunk much of that time and wasn't conscious for the rest of it. And then of course, there was Frank that bastard sucking her into his schemes, and then there was the all-consuming Greta...

"Listen... guys..." Dimi says again, stalling for time. "Let me explain..."

But her words are cut when something round streaks out and falls to the ground. It rolls and comes to a stop between Dimi and the Sweeties. The thing is a metallic ball, banded by copper and silvery sections. Red lights blink over its surface in an increasingly rapid cadence.

"Oh, shit!" Dimi cries out, as the grenade's countdown begins.

Before she can say or do anything else, a force knocks her to the ground and everything goes dark.

|  |

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# Chapter 16: What just happened?

"And you let her do that?" Ivan's projection demands. "You didn't stop her from sending those mercenaries after her?"

Aly winces. Even over the comdrone, Ivan manages to make Aly feel like he's being crushed under the weight of his own incompetence. He's grateful he's in a privacy booth, where his embarrassment isn't on public display.

"I... I thought that it could be good that Dimi be brought in so Katy could talk to her..."

Ivan rolls his eyes.

"You thought it could be 'good'? You thought it could be good that Dimi be held against her will by someone she wants nothing to do with?"

Aly's mind is a lifeless void devoid of all conscious thought.

"Did you think Dimi would fall on her knees in gratitude and kiss Katy's feet for the privilege of being brought under her control? Did you think she would suddenly become meek and submissive - and enjoy it? Does that sound like our sister to you?"

"Well... well, you know, Katy was telling me that they loved each other and... and..." Aly's words abandon him under Ivan's blistering gaze.

"Whatever happened in the past is irrelevant. How things lie now is what matters. And now? Dimi most definitely doesn't love Katy- assuming she ever did or if she just wanted bragging rights for being able to say she's fucked a LeoAng. As for Katy..."

Ivan closes his eyes and inhales deeply through his nose.

"The point, Aly, is that whatever good intentions there may be to 'protect' Dimi, it'll be rendered moot by her own actions. Katy thinks she can control her. She can't. Dimi's going to cause more problems if she's caught. It'll be a disaster. The only way to keep her under control is to keep her sedated the entire time. Frankly, I seriously hope that's being considered if they do end up catching her."

Aly hopes Ivan is wrong, but as usual, his inexorable logic can't be ignored.

"I see, yes. I'm sor--" Aly stops himself. If he apologizes, Ivan would snap at him and tell him it's stupid to apologize because it's best that he knows about what happened so he can deal for it. "I understand the issue. Hopefully they won't catch her then?"

"Hopefully," Ivan smirks. "But it's her old bandmates hunting her now. They'll know how to catch her. Then again it also means that Dimi knows how to avoid them. I guess we'll see how that works out. Now what was it that you contacted me about?"

Aly's mind blanks again.

"Aly. Was your intention to waste my time?"

"No! No, of course not!" Aly vigorously denies. He really did have a good reason to contact Ivan, and one that he's genuinely certain will help their situation. "I wanted to tell you that I found someone to help me with Frank's records. She has implants, so she'll be able to go through them efficiently. I thought we could all discuss how to proceed and you can tell her what to look for. Ivan, let me introduce you to Rae. Rae, this my brother..."

Aly signals the comdrone to widen its vid-frame, waving for Rae to come closer. He's careful to keep the comdrone at just the right angle so Ivan doesn't see too many details of the privacy booth and guess where they are.

"Hello, Ivan!" Rae says cheerfully. "I've heard a lot..."

But Ivan interrupts her as soon as he sees her Church uniform. "Aly. This woman is a novitiate. She's a member of the Church. Have you gone insane, Aly? Or are you just more phenomenally stupid than I took you for? What is the matter with you?"

"I... I..."

"Aly, you fool. Do you know what you've risked by bringing the Church into this?" Ivan growls, his voice rising.

"Yes, but Rae is..."

"Did you forget that a Church Inquisitor is investigating us?" Ivan demands, jabbing a digitized finger at him. "Do you not know that there's a distinct risk that we'll be killed by them?"

"But that's not possible..."

"Damn it, you fucking naive imbecile!" Ivan curses, stunning Aly into silence. "I have no time for your willful ignorance. The Church of the Singularity has agents everywhere. They've been tracking me. They want to get information out of me. They will stop at nothing to get what they want. I've been working all this time to keep our family in the clear, and now you go ahead bring one of them straight to us? You stupid moron."

Fortunately, Rae intervenes,

"I'll agree to encrypt everything. All our conversations, all the analysis. Everything."

Ivan snorts. "Encryptions can be broken."

"Not if it's doubly encoded with a gene-code and quantum imprint," Rae retorts. "You can set the code yourself. Only you, Aly, and I will be able to see the results."

"Oh? And then you'll just promise keep it to yourself and swear that you'll never tell anyone?" Ivan mocks. "This is a waste of my time..."

"I'll agree to install a mnemonic compulsion block in my implants," Rae says. "I physically won't be able to communicate with anyone about this except you and Aly. I'll give you root command to my implants so you can set it up yourself."

Ivan narrows his eyes. "You'll do this?"

"I said so, didn't I?"

"Fine," Ivan says. Whispering a few commands to his comdrone, he jerks his chin at them, "I'm opening a private channel. Give me access as soon as you're in. I'll be able to tell if you aren't giving me full access, you know."

"Done. Go ahead. Don't worry, you're getting the real deal."

As Ivan occupies himself, Aly whispers to Rae in alarm, "Are you actually doing this? You're giving my brother root access to your implants? How can you do that? He can erase your mind!"

This is no idle concern. When Aly was given his implants, he was repeatedly reminded that they were so deeply imbedded that they would him grant access to his most fundamental mental faculties. If he wasn't careful or if he fiddled around too much with his implants' settings he could end up liquefying half his brain.

But Rae dismisses Aly's worries with a wave,

"Oh, it'll be fine. Ivan was an academic, right? He should know what he's doing. I..." She winces, holding a hand to her temple. "Ooooo... that hurt. Okay, now my fingers are tingling... Ah, phew, back to normal again. All good. Oh, don't look at me like that, Aly! It's not a big deal. Besides, I'd have said anything to shut his arrogant ass."

"But this is too risky," Aly insists. "Way too risky. You shouldn't be..."

"It's done." Ivan announces. "I also examined the rest of her implants to see if she was lying. She wasn't. I suppose I can trust her now."

"Gee, thanks," Rae mutters.

"Alright, Rae. Listen to me carefully and activate your implants' recording functions," Ivan straightens, somehow becoming even more intense and focused. "I'm not sure what Aly has told you, but this is what you'll do. There are three main accounts you have to search and try to figure out. His housing records, his purchases, and his asset lists. They'll all look legitimate, but I suspect he's using them hide his illegal purchases. There's possibly going to be code to break, so you'll need to access your implants and have it run a randomized-walk function with a bisecting logarithmic term-referencer. Also..."

As Ivan details his requests, Aly notices tiredness in his eyes. His shoulders slump as if he were on the brink of exhaustion. It would be nothing in anyone else - understandable under the circumstances - but Aly can't remember the last time he's seen any signs of strain in his always-controlled brother.

"...you understand?" Ivan says. "You need to have your implants run a self-adapting coherence-verifier, otherwise the results could be corrupted."

"Got it," Rae replies. "Self-adapting coherence-verifier. Will do."

"It needs to be done three times."

"Okay. Three times. Anything else?"

Ivan pauses. "That will be sufficient. I'll let you know if I think of anything else. Let me know as soon as you find anything interesting. Now, if there's nothing else..."

Against his better judgment, Aly asks, "Are you alright, Ivan? You don't seem yourself. You seem... ah... stressed? I know you've taken a lot on since father's death and dealing with Dimi..."

A vivid burst of anger lights Ivan's expression before it returns to a placid mask.

"I'm fine."

"Yes, but..."

"I'm fine."

"Ivan, I'm happy to help..."

Aly finds himself speaking into empty space as the comdrone connection flickers off.

"Charming fellow your brother," Rae comments. "No surprise he was turned out of the university, huh?" When Aly doesn't answer, she elbows him in the ribs. "Hey, are you ok? Are you still up for the plan? We can turn back and go back to your home, you know. I can run the analysis there. Might even be better without the distractions."

Aly shakes his head.

"No, it's ok. I'm ok. I still want to go ahead with what we talked about." Smiling shakily, he says, "Thank you for being here, Rae. And for helping me - us, really. I really appreciate it."

"Ah, pshaw! It's nothing! Glad to help out," Rae grins, batting a hand. "Just give me a sec and let me set up the analyses on your father's accounts. I can have them running in the background, while we go find your Decanted friend."

Aly nods, refraining from correcting Rae. While it's undeniable that Sam Niner is a Decanted, calling her his friend would be very much a stretch. Where they are was a piece of information that Aly was at pains to hide from Ivan. They're in the lower levels so he can find Sam Niner and give her the money Katy gave him.

It took some effort to track Sam down as she didn't live in any of the legal habitats and had no residence identifier attached to her. But he got lucky when he thought of looking at the employment agencies for the Decanted in the lower levels. He chanced upon a job application for a cooking position from an applicant with a long service record in the military. It had to be Sam. Odds were she would be back there since the agencies tended to offer free meals and other basic supplies she could share with her family.

"There it is! I'm pretty sure this is the place!" Aly says. They're in front of an enclosure painted the standard blue-grey of all Martian government buildings.

Rae shrugs. "If you say so. The sooner we find her, the sooner we can get away from this level. Pretty sure we'll get lynched if we stay too long."

But when they enter the temp agency and walk into the hall, Aly is surprised to find that not one of the training alcoves is occupied. There are at least fifty of them neatly ordered in a half-dozen rows. He expected to find each one with a Decanted, interfacing with a government-issue vocation-program performing job compatibility assessments tailored to each individual.

There are people there though. A large group of Decanted is huddled at the other end of the hall. And, to Aly's relief, he sees Sam standing among them.

"Oh, there she is... Hey! Sam!" Aly waves.

"Aly... I don't this is a good idea..." Rae hisses.

"What do you mean? She's right there!" Aly says, shaking Rae off as she grips his arm. "Sam? Captain Sam Niner? I'm happy to say that I have the credits for you."

In response, a remarkable series of expressions play across Sam's face. Confusion gives way to panic, which gives way to surprise, which finally ends in nervous discomfort as she casts furtive, guilty glances at the other Decanted standing around her.

Aly registers none this.

"I don't know you. I don't know this person..." Sam stutters.

"What? Sure you remember me!" Aly exclaims. "It's me! Aly, Aly Mazer. You came to, ah, visit me about some credits that Frank owed you? I have them for you. See?"

Sam stares open mouthed at the credits in Aly's outstretched hand.

"Well?" a Decanted man beside her says. "Aren't you going to fetch your credits?"

"I... I... You have to understand..." Sam appeals to the Decanted around her.

"It won't take a moment!" Aly smiles encouragingly.

A few seconds of tense silence pass as Sam stares into the unyielding expressions of the Decanted, hoping to find support there. Nothing. Her shoulders collapse and she turns to walk towards Aly.

"It's so wonderful to see you!" Aly gushes, as Sam nears. "I found a way to give you the money Frank owes you! It just so happened that I met Katy LeoAng earlier this evening, and I told her about your case. She of course felt immediate sympathy, and was happy to provide you with the two thousand credits that Frank owes you. She wants you to have it! Here! Take it! It's for you!"

Sam looks at the burnerchips in Aly's hand.

"I've never seen thousand-credit burnerchips before..." Sam whispers finally. "If I take them, I could get my family into decent housing, get them proper treatment... even get a decent meal for once..."

"Yes! That's right!" Aly agrees enthusiastically. "You can do all that! Go on! Take it!"

Sam gingerly plucks the burnerchips from Aly's hand and clutches them tightly, her eyes watering. "This is what I needed to change things for us. For us to have a chance... I can finally ease my wife's suffering, I can get my children onto a good path, give them an education, and decent job prospects..."

"Don't forget the Vault of the Minds!" Aly says. "There should be plenty here for you to start an installment plan for you and your family!"

Sam falls silent. For what feels like a long time, she stares at the credits in her hand.

"Sam? Are you alright?" Aly asks. "Is something wrong?"

After a deep breath, Sam replies. "Everything's fine."

"Good. I'm happy that..."

"Hey," Sam says suddenly. "You want to see something I learned in the service? It's a fun trick."

"A trick? Um... sure? Ah! What? What are you..."

In a flash of movement, Sam flings the burnerchips in Aly's face. And with fierce, manic anger, she screams,

"I don't want your money!"

"What? Sam? But..."

"You think you can buy me off? You think I'm that cheap?"

"No, of course not, but this is what you're owed..."

"You fucking Mazers! All the same! You just want to crush us under your heel! No more! No more! I'd rather die free than live a slave! The time for justice is nearing!"

Aly tries again to reach out, but he lurches back as Sam suddenly lunges at him. But she does nothing to Aly. Instead, she proceeds to stamp her foot on the burnerchips. It's nothing that would break them, but that's clearly not the point. Her statement made, Sam whirls around and stomps back to the group of Decanted, who nod approvingly and pat her back.

"I think it's a good time to go now, don't you think?" Rae says, tugging on his arm.

"But the credits..."

"She doesn't want them, Aly."

"But we can't leave them here..."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Rae curses, crouches down, picks the credits up, and shoves them back into Aly's hand. "Can we go now?"

Aly's mind whirls as Rae drags him out. Why did Sam refuse the credits? Why did Aly fail yet again to make things right?

"We have to go back," Aly says shaking his head. "I have to give the credits to Sam. She has to accept them... she has to understand that I know what happened to her, how Frank did those things to her... how I was part of it! I have to tell her how much this means to me. She has to accept those credits..."

A hard shake quiets his rambling, and he finds himself staring into Rae's face.

"Aly! Pull yourself together!" she says. "Sam couldn't take the credits."

"What? Of course, she could. She..."

"Aly. Will you listen to me? How could you be so clueless?" Rae demands. "It wasn't her. It wasn't the right place to offer to her the credits, okay? I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen. Those Decanted in the back were part of some kind of rebel group. It looked like they were either recruiting or planning something illegal. I couldn't tell. Either way, there's no way Sam could have accepted money from you, a genenorm."

Aly blinks as the realization hits.

"Oh."

"Right. 'Oh.'" Rae repeats. "Sam will accept the credits, but you'll have to find somewhere else to give them to her."

"I see... Right." Aly nods. "Maybe I can wait for her to come out and..."

"No you can't."

"Sure I can. I can..."

"No. You can't," Rae says again, as she gives Aly another shake. "You've got another problem to deal with."

"I do?" Aly isn't sure he can deal with something else. He hopes it's something minor, but unfortunately,

"Yeah, you do. See, I got some results from my analysis of Frank's records. Not the stuff Ivan wanted me to do. That's going to take ages. I decided to look through Frank's correspondence to see if there's anything significant there." Rae frowns. "It's not good Aly. I'm pretty sure I know why the Church sent an Inquisitor to investigate Frank's murder. And also why the government is so interested in him."

Rae takes a breath.

"Based on what I found, I'm pretty sure Frank tried to blackmail the Church of the Singularity and the Martian Unified Government."

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# Chapter 17: A threatening proposal

Ivan is perfectly aware of the gravity of the situation. He knows Frank threatened the Church and the government. He, after all, gave him the idea to do it.

So he isn't surprised when he discovers someone new has been following him. Ivan only noticed his follower by accident when he was forced to manually review some comdrone messages while the damn thing kept fritzing out. He'd stepped into a secluded corner to fix the drone, but when he came out he caught sight of a man holding a hand to his eye while rhythmically scratching his nose and looking at everyone in the crowd. For a casual onlooker, it would look like nothing. Perhaps the man had some kind of nervous tick or a strange habit, but the rhythmic scratching was a dead give-away. The man was using an ocular face-screener, and clearly trying to get a lock on Ivan. Fortunately, Ivan just managed to duck his sweep, waited until his tail moved on.

When he left Katy's, he made sure to mask his location by going through high transit zones and changing his outfits twice. That should have been more than enough to throw the surveillance drones off and keep them from tracking him. But the fact that his follower got that close meant they have adopted far more sophisticated tracking methods to find him. They must have tracked his comdrone signal - even though his signal was triply-encrypted and bounced off of anonymous servers. This raises troubling questions regarding the powerful resources that have been brought into play against him,

Ivan curses. The wise thing to do would be destroy his comdrone immediately and only contact people via proxy. But he's so close to getting the answers he needs and setting up a proxy would take hours. He curses again. If he still had his implants, he could set up a brilliant system of encoded transmission lines that no one would be able to crack. But of course, pathetic weak fool that he's been reduced to, he can't.

"Open a line to Koi. Use encryption protocol alpha-121," Ivan orders, as he releases his comdrone and signals it to establish a privacy bubble.

"Hello, Ive," Koi says as their image resolves. "Good to see you. Do you think we'll have time for a pleasant debate this time? We barely had time to trade two sentences at that pretentious party."

"Hello, Koi. Good to see you as well," Ivan replies with warmth. What he would give indeed to spar with Koi on some amusing obscure conundrum. "This call is being tracked by some means I haven't been able to identify. For both our security, we'll have to limit this call to the essentials. And it's Ivan, now. Not Ive. You know that."

"That's a question of accuracy, isn't it?" Koi retorts. "I'd point out the many reasons for you to retain your academic name... but it seems we'll have to save that conversation for another time... Ivan. Pity."

"Yes. Pity." Ivan says stiffly. Koi is trying to be supportive, he knows, but the reminder of better times sting. "Did you have a chance to access the university databases and go through the locations I sent you?"

"I did. It was a trivial task," Koi shrugs. "Most of the locations were adjacent to previously-surveyed battlefields, fitting within the standard harvest zones for artifact hunters."

Ivan nods. "Any unique areas among them?"

"Not particularly. Any artifacts taken from those locations would likely fit within the expected assortment of memory modules, broken wargear, and non-lethal curios. Those spots have been combed and re-combed so many times it's a wonder why the hunters still go there."

"I see." It's much as Ivan expected, but he needed to be sure. "What about the outliers? How many were there?"

"There were none."

"None?"

"I'm sorry, Ivan. There was nothing unusual among those locations."

Ivan grinds his teeth. This had been his best chance.

"That said, there are a few things that may be worth looking into," Koi says raising a finger. "There were a few locations my program indicated as false positives and discounted them."

"False positives? Why were they labelled that way?"

"Most likely because they didn't fit within the criteria for an Earther artifact. Offhand, I'd say that it's because there were some locations that were too far from any battlefield or too close to existing population centers to find something unique. Do you want me to send them?"

"Yes. Right now," Ivan says, trying to suppress the eagerness in his voice. But when he opens the file and glances at the locations, he frowns. "These are at the bottom of the Valley in the Catacombs. It doesn't make any sense. There aren't any artifacts there."

Koi raises their shoulders and lets them drop. "Like I said, false positives."

After resisting the urge to demand if Koi did the search properly, Ivan says, "Thank you for your help, Koi. I'll make it up to you some day."

"It was nothing," Koi sniffs. "Maybe next time give me a real challenge."

"Perhaps. Take care, Koi."

Ivan takes a moment to calm himself as soon as Koi's image disappears. He forces himself to think past his frustration. A slew of theories and possibilities arise in Ivan's mind. None, though, make any sense. He's no closer to finding the Earther artifact that caused his father's death.

But there has to be something. Something he can use as a lead. A clue. Anything. He has to review his notes. Collect his thoughts. Find some insight. Yes, he thinks to himself, if he disciplines his mind, weak and slow as it is, he will find the solution.

But as he steps out of the access tunnel his commitment renewed, he's arrested by a familiar, abrasive voice:

"I take it from your sour expression that you didn't get anything from your former colleague Koi?"

It's Inquisitor Zos. He's standing outside the tunnel entrance, waiting for him. He's smiling mockingly, exposing his gnarled, broken teeth. There's no sign of his enforcer though. For all intents and purposes, it appears Ivan is facing the withered old man alone.

"I spoke to no such person," Ivan says, guessing the Inquisitor is trying to trap him. "Your allegation is very serious. You know that no member of the academia may speak to a Non-Singularist. If you're making such an accusation, they may accuse you of libel and the full weight of the University of Olympos would land against you and the Inquisition. Frankly, I would find that battle interesting to watch. I wonder which of those institutions would win."

"The Inquisition would, of course," Inquisitor Zos grins. "But I'm not here to start any spurious libel suits, as exciting as they may be. And you're right, I can't prove that you spoke to Koi right now, even though circumstantial evidence highly suggests that you did."

"Well then, since that that's settled, if you'll pardon me..." Ivan moves to walk very far away.

But the Inquisitor whips out a hand and pulls him in with a hard yank.

"No! Don't go! We haven't even started talking!" Zos says beaming. "Listen Ivan, I understand you don't trust me, but believe it or not, I mean you no harm. Honestly! I only want to talk."

"You only want to talk? You expect me to believe that? I..."

Ivan's dismissive reply is interrupted by a blur of movement. Suddenly, the Inquisitor's gnarled hand is in front of his face. He's clutching his comdrone. The bastard had fished it out of his pocket.

"I only want to talk to you though," the Inquisitor clarifies, as he crushes Ivan's comdrone into a fizzle of broken parts. "So let's not bring Katy into this, shall we?"

"You have a funny way of conveying that you mean me no harm."

"Well, a tiny threat never hurt conversation, did it?"

"What do you want to talk about?"

The Inquisitor smiles. "What do I want to talk about? Only the topics that have been consuming all my time! I want to talk about Dimi. About Frank. About the future. Your future."

Ivan narrows his eyes, trying to figure out what the Inquisitor is trying to get at. Much to his shame, he knows it's unlikely he can out-think him. Unlike the novitiate, Zos most certainly knows how use his implants efficiently and effectively.

But Ivan pulls himself straight and steels his expression. He may no longer have his implants, but he still has his mental skills, which he knows to be still formidable.

"What is this about, exactly?" Ivan asks. "We both know Dimi didn't kill my father. And besides, we both know that Frank being dead suits the Church just fine."

The Inquisitor performs a mournful sigh. "Oh, Ivan. That's cute. You're trying to bait me into a reaction, right? I'm supposed to deny that we wanted Frank dead, and you'll then poke holes into my statement, making me back-peddle and possibly cause me to slip up?" He sighs again. "Here I am, trying to have an honest and straight-forward talk, and here you go, trying to pull rhetorical tricks on me. Come now, Ivan. Haven't I already dropped hints that I'm not playing games with you? Don't you see that I haven't brought my trusty assistant, Marvin?  Didn't I already admit that I didn't actually know you were talking Koi, when I could have pretended that I had in fact broken your encryption?"

Ivan pauses. It is odd that the Inquisitor had conceded that fact readily, but this again could be a trick.

"As I've said before, if you believe I was speaking to Koi..."

"Fucking hell! I don't give a shit about your goddamned motherfucking Koi! That's my fucking point!" the Inquisitor snaps. "Now, are you willing to talk? Not argue! Talk, Ivan, like two rational, loyal Martians. That's all I want."

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really."

"Fine then. Let's talk. What do you want?"

Inquisitor Zos at last leans back, giving Ivan some much needed space. Crossing his arms behind his back, he asks,

"What did Frank promise you?"

Ivan raises a brow to affect surprise, but internally he's relieved that he can honestly reply,

"Nothing. Frank promised me nothing."

The Inquisitor rolls his eyes. "Ok, so he never specifically promised you anything, but what did you expect from him? You thought you were going to get something, weren't you?"

Ivan is silent.

"What? Nothing? You expected nothing? For the work you did for him? Oh, we know about that, Ivan. Of course, we do. Again, I'll freely admit that we don't know exactly what you did for him, but you can't have expected nothing from him."

Ivan says nothing, trying to keep his expression perfectly still. Even a twitch may be enough for the Inquisitor's implants to infer what he's thinking.

"Alright, Ivan. Alright," the Inquisitor shakes his head. "I get you don't trust me. But I want you to know that I can help you. I can help you get what want. What you expected to get out of Frank. I can make that promise to you. We're on the same team, Ivan."

Ivan can't help but laugh.

"Same side? Inquisitor, are you blind? Look at my armband. I am a Non-Singularist. You are a member of the Church. We are categorically not on the same team."

But the Inquisitor only smiles knowingly in reply, "We're alone. No need to pretend any more, Ivan."

"Pretend? What nonsense are you..."

"You're no Non-Singularist, Ivan. You know that. I know that," the Inquisitor grins at Ivan's stunned expression. "Like I said, no more games."

Ivan shuts his face down, calling upon every fiber of his being not to engage or reveal one thing more. He's been outplayed. He needs to find a way to get away. Fighting this Inquisitor is futile.

"Do you remember what I said to you the last time we parted ways?" the Inquisitor asks.

Of course he does.

After it was clear that Dimi had gotten away from him, the Inquisitor had grabbed him and whispered four words in his ear before stomping off. Though they were only four words, they each struck a devastating blow that sparked uncontrollable, shameful fury.

"What would Li think?" the Inquisitor repeats again, this time aloud.

Ivan suppresses the urge to leap on the old man and throttle him. It is intolerable that the disgusting man would speak their name.

"Seriously. What would Li think of you, I wonder?" Inquisitor Zos muses. "Do you think they would approve of what you're doing? Do you think Li would think it's rational for you to struggle against me?"

"Stop using their name," Ivan says hoarsely.

"Don't you wonder too? Surely you do," the Inquisitor goes on. "Tell me, Ivan. Do you think you will be able to face them in the Great Infinity? You've thought of that, haven't you? What do you think you will say to them when you see them when the Singularity arrives? Maybe you have some kind of clever explanation already prepared for Li?"

"STOP IT! SHUT THE FUCK UP! DON'T YOU DARE USE THEIR NAME ONE MORE TIME!"

The Inquisitor falls silent at Ivan's outburst. Nodding and smiling, he says,

"So you have considered what to say. I can give you that chance, you know. To talk to Li again."

"They're dead," Ivan growls. "There's nothing to say."

"You know that's not true."

"I saw them die."

"Did you really?"

Ivan stares.

"Yes, Ivan. I know the story. I know what happened. I have to admit it wasn't easy, but your University unsealed its records for me," Inquisitor Zos says. "Given what happened, I can understand why you did what you did, and why you decided to take the route of the Non-Singularist. Your conclusions were understandable, even though they were wrong."

"Wrong?!" Ivan yells. "Their mind was destroyed! There was nothing in the records! The whole brainscan was a failure!"

The Inquisitor smirks. "I told you once before that the Church of the Singularity has more resources than you think. We're able to do far more than what we have revealed to the public. What if I told you that Li's brainscan is recoverable?"

He smiles widely at Ivan's shock.

"It's true, you know, what you told that novitiate. Everything is permitted in the Singularity. We can make anything possible and make anything happen. Including bringing Li back." After giving a moment let that settle, he continues. "What if you could speak to them again? Is that something that would interest you? Don't you want to speak to your love again?"

Ivan's every inclination screams to ignore the Inquisitor's words, that they couldn't possibly be true, that he was blatantly manipulating him, that nothing could bring Li back, nothing except the Singularity, but that simply isn't possible...

"What do you want from me?" Ivan crosses his arms.

"Ah! Finally! Now we're talking about something useful! I told you! We're on the same side!" the Inquisitor claps and laughs maniacally at Ivan's scowl. "We want the same thing, Ivan. We want the Earther artifact that was in Frank's possession. I know you've been searching for it same as we have. I want you to give it to the Church as soon as you get it. If you do, we will give you a chance to talk to Li again."

"I assume you'll also clear Dimi of any wrong doing," Ivan asks.

"Of course!"

"And allow Aly back into the Church?"

"Sure! As a full member too!"

"And you'll give us a places in the Vault of Minds, presumably."

"You'll be among the first to be uploaded! The Great Infinity will be yours!"

"And you'll get me back into University?"

"Your record will be sparkling clean!"

"If this is worth so much to you," Ivan asks finally. "Why not force me to tell you what I know?"

"And ruin your independence?" the Inquisitor says in mock surprise. "I know you academic types. You need to be free to work or else you'll just lock up your mind like a panic room. Besides, if you don't bring the artifact to me or if I find it first, then you'll get nothing. Dimi will be arrested, Aly will stay a banished, you'll stay a loser. And, Li... well let's just say even the fragments of current brainscan will be no more. How's that for incentive!"

Ivan makes a show of considers the Inquisitor's words. He was very good. He did an excellent job keeping Ivan off balance. But if he'd hoped it would make Ivan easier to deal with, then he's glad to prove him wrong.

"Well, I have to admit this is a unique pleasure you've given me, Inquisitor," Ivan says chuckling softly.

"How so?"

"It's not every day one gets to see the Church grovel." Ivan says. "You're completely clueless, aren't you? You have no idea where the artifact may be. Not only that, you have no idea what it is even. How pathetic."

He stares defiantly into the anger blazing in the Inquisitor's eyes.

"You must be furious that you can't force me to tell you what you want. You claim not to want to force me to tell you to protect my 'independence', but the real reason you don't is because you fear that I've rigged my mind to make my memories useless to you should you try anything like your 'cranial maiden.' You'd be right. I'm amply able to scramble my memories at the first sign you're trying to force something out of me. It's a simple mnemonic protocol we were taught our first year at the university before we received our implants. So that means you can't even kill me. You need me alive so I can find the artifact for you."

"You ungrateful fucker..." the Inquisitor hisses, his hands balled into fists.

"Ungrateful?" Ivan snorts. "What should I be grateful for? For your generous promises? The ones you would more than likely renege on as soon as you get what you want? Spare me your lies. Li is dead, Inquisitor. You are right that I loved them, but they're gone. Whatever you show me will be nothing more than a primitive simulation. As for Aly and Dimi, it's best that Aly stays out of your corrupt church, and Dimi will be exonerated eventually. The truth will come out, Inquisitor. Trust me, I'll make sure of it."

There's a long moment of tense silence as Ivan and the Inquisitor stare each other down. After what feels like an eternity, the Inquisitor says,

"You fool. You think that this is only about you. You have no idea... the repercussions, the consequences of this... the very fabric of Martian society will unravel because of your refusal to cooperate... Everything will collapse. Everything! Everything will be gone." He grabs Ivan by his shirt and snarls, "Let all that be on your head."

The Inquisitor lets Ivan go with a flick of his fingers, causing him to stumble backwards and onto the ground.

"You're wrong about something though, Ivan. We didn't kill your father," he says as he walks away. "You said before that it suited us that he was dead. It actually doesn't. We had a deal with him. The same deal that the government made with him. But neither of us got to act on it before he was murdered. None of us wanted him dead - at least not at that moment. Whoever used that mecha-suit to kill him had their own reasons to do so."

Ivan picks himself up as he watches the fast-moving Inquisitor disappear. around the corner. He half-wonders if he should yell out thanks.

Because the Inquisitor's last words helped him figure out who killed Frank. He really should have guessed it all along. The better question though is why she did it.

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# Chapter 18: Are you prepared, Dimi?

As Dimi slowly comes to, she immediately prepares herself. She's expecting to find her hands and feet locked in magnetized manacles. She wouldn't be surprised to find someone there - probably Gia, she's always been a vindictive bitch - gloating over her, and maybe getting ready to give her a couple of sucker punches for the trouble she caused.

But when she cracks open her eyes, she smiles. Neither her hands nor her legs are bound. That's not what's making her smile. She quickly shuts her eyes and slackens her face so she looks like she's still unconscious. She has the most hilarious idea to...

"I know you're awake, Dimi. Who do you think gave you the wake-up shot?" Greta says, her back still turned to her.

"Oh, come on!" Dimi protests as she sits up. "I was going to surprise you when you came to check on me! I was going to grab you down, tear your clothes off, and really go at it, you know? Doesn't that sound fun? We'd be... Ewww, gross. What the hell is this..." She quickly pulls her hand out of something damp and unsettlingly squishy. "And the smell! What is that? It's as bad as..."

"Shit."

"What?"

"It smells as bad as shit. Because it's shit." Greta turns around and tosses her a pack of water rations. "We're in a sub-chamber of a waste cycling unit. Still want to get it on?"

Dimi suppresses a gag. She can't tear open the plastic vesicles fast enough to start sucking the precious fluids. She's grateful when she tastes the sour and salty notes of electrolytes and energy boosters.

"Hard pass. I mean... I guess I could if this is a fetish of yours. No judgement, you know..."

"It's not."

"Right. Fine then." Dimi stands up.

They're in a narrow, confined space with just enough room for the field-mat that she'd been lying on. On either side are gurgling tubes, none of which are leaking, thankfully, but there's a persistent, soggy dampness saturating the air that causes the walls and floors to sweat.

"So you want to go somewhere cleaner where we can get it on? Hey, I'd even be open to go somewhere fancy..."

"We can't."

"Sure we can! We..."

"You're still being tracked, Dimi. You almost got caught, remember?"

Right. There's that. That was a close one. Greta must have saved her using an impact grenade that knocked her and everyone nearby out. Somehow, she must have dragged her unconscious body here while the others... A jolt of worry stabs her as she reflexively wonders if her old bandmates were alright. They were closer to the grenade than she was. But then she remembers they were trying to catch her. The fuckers had betrayed her.

"Ha! Whatever. I could have handled them," Dimi grumbles sourly. "Those guys weren't even close. They... Whoa..."

Her vision violently spins. She slams a hand against the wall, grunting as she screws her eyes shut and presses a fist against the side of her head. Blowing the air out of her nostrils, she slowly inhales again, trying to settle her head, but as the disgusting miasma of ammonia-laced odors come streaming in, she promptly vomits.

"Yeah, don't move too quickly. Those wake-shots take a minute or two to settle in," Greta says, patting Dimi on the back.

"Damn... damn..." Dimi mutters, straightening.

Of course, she should take the time to recover, but with Greta so close, she twists around, snaring the Decanted woman in her arms, and pushes her up against the wall, squeezing her lovely ass, and forcing a brief, but fierce kiss that she hopes is only slightly tinged in bile. She pulls away before Greta strikes at her.

"So, you want to run away together?" Dimi asks, flashing the rakish smile that she hopes will diffuse the irritation growing in Greta's eyes.

Fortunately, it does, and, instead of the angry words that were probably going to come lashing out, Greta sighs,

"Oh, Dimi. Always so clueless even when the whole planet is crashing down around you. It's almost as if you did nothing wrong and no one is hunting you. At least, I know it couldn't have been you who killed Frank and stole that artifact."

"Fuck! I didn't do anything wrong! None of it is me! I'm telling you!"

"That's what I said."

"You have to believe me! I didn't... Oh. That's what you said?" Dimi says. "So you believe me then?"

Greta nods. "I do, Dimi. I believe you. You can't have murdered Frank and you most definitely didn't steal that artifact. Because if you did, you'd know how important it is, and even you would have done something with it or at least figured out to profit off it instead of scrambling around in sewage. But you don't even know what the artifact is, do you?"

"No. Just like I told Ivan. I have no idea," Dimi grunts. "He claims it was something that I got for Frank, but I told him it can't have been. It makes no sense. I only got him junk! Do you know what the fuck it is everyone is looking for?"

"I don't. No one does," Greta shakes her head. "We reconstructed all the artifact markers you got from Frank's files, and we went out to every location you went to. There was nothing there. Nothing besides the standard artifacts hunters usually collect. Whatever it was, it wasn't collected there. Are you sure there wasn't something else? Is there anything you can remember? Come on, Dimi. Think. I need you to think."

It's all Dimi can do not to explode. A headache starts to pierce the sides of head as her thoughts go to painful places. Even Greta was pissing her off about this! Even after she said she believed her! She wants to scream and yell and holler to every person, drone, mecha, whatever at all that she doesn't remember a damn thing. There's nothing! Nothing, damn it! She got nothing of value for her father. She knows it!

She's about to say all this, but she realizes Greta confirmed something she'd only guessed at.

"You said 'we.' 'We reconstructed' and 'we visited.'" Dimi says, narrowing her eyes. "So you are part of the special forces, aren't you?"

Greta rolls her eyes. "Yes, Dimi. I think that should be obvious by now, shouldn't it? A regular dock worker wouldn't know all this or carry grenades, would they?"

Dimi frowns. A loader-mecha worker from the cargo docks was how she'd thought of Greta before. Before, that is, she'd run into her in the black market, and before all this madness. But if she really is part of the special forces,

"Aren't you supposed to deny that you're in the special forces?" Dimi asks. "Isn't it against protocol to break your cover or something?"

"Yeah, I should deny it," Greta agrees. "But would that really satisfy you?"

"No, I suppose it wouldn't," Dimi admits. But as the implications of the Greta's revelation starts to sink in, she realizes, "Hold on a minute. But you've been around a long time, haven't you? You weren't just assigned to me because of Frank's murder... Wait... You weren't even assigned to me at all. You were assigned to Frank. To Frank? To that fat useless fuck? Why the hell were you assigned to him? How could..."

Greta places a hand over Dimi's mouth to stop her prattling.

"Yes, Dimi. I was assigned to your father. I still am, actually," she says grimly. Fixing Dimi with a hard stare, she asks, "Tell me. Do you remember how we met?"

Dimi practically bursts out laughing at the ridiculous question. How couldn't she remember? It had been electric!

"Yes, of course, I do. Did you want us to reenact..."

"No, Dimi. I'm not asking about what we did after. Do you remember how and where we met?"

Dimi knots her brows. "Yeah, I do. Why are you bringing this up? I don't like to think about that disgusting..."

"Tell me."

"Fine," Dimi scowls. "We met at one of Frank's orgies. You were there as part of the entertainment... But I stopped that shit! It makes me so angry what would have happened if I hadn't been there! I should have killed him right there!"

"Dimi, I wasn't there against my will. My plan was to have sex with him. That was idea. At least, until you came along."

"What....?"

On the night Dimi met Greta, she was furious with Frank, as usual. By then, she'd been banned from his house and couldn't get near the place, but even so she was determined to confront him. The man owed her money. The cheating bastard refused to pay up no matter how much she screamed and may or may not have pummeled him with her fists. Of course, he did everything to avoid her, but she had made Smiley tell her when and where he was going to emerge from his house to throw one of his "famous" orgies.

It was there, after knocking out a handful of cheap goons and kicking down the door to an old storage unit, that she found him. Even under the dim lights, the wafts of stinking perfume, and peals of fake laughs and flatteries, nothing could hide the fact that Frank was a weak, helpless lump of ugly flesh. He was rightly terrified of her.

Yet, Dimi didn't give him the beating she'd reserved for him. Not because he gave her the money she'd screamingly demanded from him. Because of Greta. There she was, standing in front the disgusting man, her jump suit half-unzipped. Frank had a hand resting on her hip as if he owned her - which was likely the case since all the Decanted there probably mortgaged their Life Debts to him.

Dimi forgot about all that. She was mesmerized by the look that Greta gave her. Intense, probing, knowing. Instinctively, she knew Greta was as attracted to her just as she was to her. Without another thought, she yanked her away and into her arms, noting with delight Frank's spluttering outrage. Her demands for her credits forgotten, she swept Greta away, laughing in Frank's face as she did so. Frank screamed absurdities about how Greta was his and he'd get her back, but Dimi spat in his face. That night and for many nights after that, she and Greta had sex over and over again...

"Did none of what happened between us mean anything to you?" Dimi says.

"It shouldn't have," Greta replies. "And it didn't at first. But over time... and against my better judgement... Ah, Dimi. You're an idiot, but a loveable idiot. If only it were as simple as running away..." She shakes her head. "You know, I was pretty pissed off at you at first. You messed up my operation. Sure, you spared me having to sex with Frank, but it wasn't like I hadn't fucked him before. Don't look so surprised, Dimi. Providing sexual favors is what you do when you're trying to seduce someone into giving you something you want. He was my mark. I was doing my job."

"Your job? What could Frank possibly have that was worth fucking him?"

"Well, we'll never know now, will we? Since you still don't remember anything useful? Or do you?" Greta asks again. Dimi glares in response. "The idea was that he'd be so smitten with me that he'd give me access to his plans. I'd managed to copy most of his files, but the clever bastard kept the most important things in his head. I was getting close to him telling the really important things..."

"Ha! He would never tell anyone anything! That stingy bastard never shared shit with anyone!"

"Maybe. I was suspecting that he was testing me," Greta concedes. "But something shifted when you grabbed me. The competition from you and the fact it was possible he could never have me made him want me more. He became desperate about it. When he contacted me - yes, Dimi, he did, and I took his calls without telling you - he started offering me all kinds of things. Making bigger and bigger promises. And yes, I told him that I was being swayed by them. But I held back until he told me his full plan. And he was going to, Dimi. I was going to get it all from him, but then? Then he was murdered."

Dimi is speechless.

"You're involved in something much bigger than you can possibly imagine, Dimi. Really, it's bigger than anyone thought it would be," Greta continues. "I was told it was supposed to be some minor case of corruption or something like that. It was never supposed blow up into this insane political power struggle between the Church and the government. Say what you will about Frank, he wasn't messing around when he made deals with both of them. They played right into his hands, the clever fucker."

"But what could possibly make them willing to..."

"We don't know." Greta says. "It was something huge though. Not only was it big enough to spook both the Church and the government and make them fight over it, it was big enough that it was immediately classified at the highest levels. That's what's weird about it. We were told that we needed to track an artifact down that Frank had, but they wouldn't tell us the details. They said it was too sensitive. Maybe the Church people looking for it on their end know more, but I doubt it. See, all we were told was that Frank had gotten something that was a fundamental threat to the existence of the People of Mars. They claimed we would know it when we saw it. Ridiculous, right? Listen Dimi..."

But Dimi's stopped listening. She nods, vaguely registering about how it's a good for her to be on the run as it was keeping the Church distracted. Whatever else Greta is saying is pushed away by a maelstrom of swirling thoughts. They're all centered on something Greta's said.

About there being a fundamental threat.

The words unlocked something in her memory. Where there was an impossible pain, the words now sat in her head, growing into a monolith encompassing everything in her mind. A dull throb beats in her ears and pressure builds. A gigantic knot is unravelling. Bits and pieces of incoherent thoughts and words and memories, all splintered and fractured, jut out in scrambled pieces. She wants it to stop, but she knows she has to let it unfold on its own.

She's done this before. Her memories are reforming after being mnemonically locked down. She's starting to remember what's actually going on - not to mention why she she'd locked her own memories away from herself. And she's realizing that the situation really is much worse than what Greta is saying.

"...who knows? Maybe it's nothing and maybe Frank was just bluffing. I wouldn't be surprised if this has turned out to be a huge waste of time," Greta shrugs.

Dimi wants to tell her that he wasn't bluffing, but she's silenced as another burst of her memories unravel, forcing to take a breath so they can integrate properly.

"Personally, I think that they should have be dealing with other threats, real ones like corruption."

"Greta..."

"Or the increasing discontent in the Decanted working populations! That's a real threat!"

"I have to tell you..."

"Every field agent I know has been saying they should be focusing on the possibility of a Decanted uprising. We know they've been actively organizing and preparing."

"About the threat..."

"They say they can deal with any kind of uprising, and maybe they can if they use enough force. But what good is spilling all that blood?"

"The threat is..."

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

A deafening siren interrupts Dimi. Even down in the sewers they hear it clearly. Every Martian citizen is meant to hear it no matter where they are. And even though no one has heard it for nearly a generation, everyone knows what it is.

"The attack siren! The Earthers are attacking? Can it really be? This must be some kind of mistake." Greta says incredulously.

But when her comdrone suddenly whirs online, flashing the unmistakable strobing red signal to muster, she snaps into action, pulling her gear together. It's no mistake. All members of the service have been ordered to battle.

Just as Greta is about to tear off though, she throws a pack to Dimi.

"There's enough supplies in there to keep you alive for a few days at least. Hopefully that's all you'll need. And hopefully this is some false alarm. Do the smart thing and stay out of sight, okay?"

That, at least, is something Dimi agrees with. She has to be even more careful not to be caught. Because she has to figure out how to properly deal with what she now remembers. Because she knows exactly what the Earther artifact is and where it's hiding.

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# Chapter 19: Are you prepared, Aly?

A few moments ago, not unlike a Dimi, Aly was experiencing something he wasn't prepared for: Rae's reaction. He expected a small amount of questioning from her, mostly just to make sure he was doing the right thing, but nothing quite like,

"No! No! It's a terrible idea!" Rae emphatically crosses her hands and whips them out to her sides.

"But Rae..."

"It's a mistake to call her! I'm telling you!"

"Rae, please. Will you listen? I..."

"She's not who you think she is! It's not safe!"

"But she's the best person..."

"No! She isn't! She really isn't!"

"Okay. Okay!" Aly yells. "So tell me, Rae. If I shouldn't call Katy LeoAng, then who should I call to talk about a plot that involves the two most powerful political groups on Mars? Is there anyone else you know who can give me advice on how to deal with what Frank did and prevent a potentially disastrous conflict between the Church and the Martian government? Who else but Katy with her family's connections would know how to navigate this?"

Rae grinds her teeth and looks away.

"That's what I thought. Rae, I appreciate what you..."

"Aly," Rae takes a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry for a being a little... intense about this, but I'm worried. What Frank did is very grave, but I don't know if you should tell Katy about it. I mean, I agree with you that she's probably best suited for this, but... she's not just a regular citizen, like you or I. Domies like her can't really be trusted."

"Domie? Aren't you a domie too?" Aly points out.

Rae scrunches her face. "I am now. But my family didn't always live in the domes, Aly. We started off in the cavern-habitats. My parents struggled hard selling ceramic plating for years before they saved enough to get to the domes. It was supposed to bring us respectability, but even after we got there and built a respectable dome for ourselves, it took a long time for us to be accepted. We mostly are now, though every so often we get mocked and called 'wannabe butterflies' - since we're blind cave worms who've put on pretend-wings, get it? Why do you think I do this to my hair and look like this? I have to keep up the look so I can fit in. You should see what my dad does. He gets the body-modders to give him brass skin pigmentation that he refreshes every two days. My point is that I know domies and I know how they think. They play by different rules, Aly. But most importantly, they're mean, vicious, and ruthless in ways you can't even imagine."

"You think Katy is mean? With all her charity work? That's..."

"Aly, you have to believe me, ok?" Rae grips his arms. "She's a domie. She has a face for every occasion, if not for every person she meets. It may seem like she's helping, but she'll have her own priorities. Call her if you want, but just keep that in mind when you talk to her, ok? Be on guard."

It takes a moment for Aly to nod - and for Rae to finally let him go. He's torn between wanting to acknowledge the doubt that Rae planted, and his need to get guidance. No, not guidance. He wants to be rescued from the cataclysmic disaster his father created.

He signals his comdrone to open a connection with Katy.

"Aly? What is it? Are you alright? Are you safe?" she asks, her brow creased in concern.

"Yes, I am. Why wouldn't I be?" Aly replies, bewildered.

"Dimi escaped her trackers, and it was... messy." Katy's lips twist in distaste. "All the people I hired are injured or incapacitated. There was significant collateral and property damage. I wasn't sure if she's come looking for you, and if she did, if it would end up the same."

"Oh. I see. No, Dimi hasn't come to see me. I haven't heard from her since the last time," Aly shakes his head, dismayed to hear of yet another disaster he's failed to prevent. "If I do, I'll remember what you said and tell her to come in..."

"Good. I'm happy," Katy clips. "Now what is it that you called me for?"

Aly swallows. "I wanted to call you for some help. I discovered something that Frank did that I was hoping that you might know how to deal with..."

He attempts to explain what Rae revealed to him about Frank's blackmailing attempts as briefly and coherently as he can. A few months ago, Frank had sent separate messages to the Church of the Singularity and the Martian Unified Government, warning them that he had discovered something that could take them down. If either of them wished to survive, he told them, they had better meet his demands.

Of course, his messages were ignored, as he offered no proof. For all intents and purposes he was just another a lunatic. Frank apparently didn't mind, deciding to make a game of it, continuing to send them inflammatory messages, each teasing what it was that he had, and each time raising the price of his silence. Unsurprisingly, he received no response, as throughout he never revealed anything concrete. He did, however, repeat that whoever would pay him first would get what he discovered, and they would gain the upper hand over the other.

But Frank knew they were paying attention. With his tantalizing offer to change the balance of power between the Church and the government, he knew their algorithms would, at the minimum, be flagging his messages for manual review. Finally, he sent them the network location to a secure datacache in which he claimed would be a description of what he was offering. Yet he provided no password to the datacache. He explained that this was a sign of a good faith as it ensured that no one besides them would access it. He had guessed that both the Church and the government had capability to break their way into the data archives.

Judging by what happened after, it seemed he not only had guessed correctly, but he definitely had something both groups wanted. Desperately. A flurry of messages passed between Frank and the Church and Frank and the Martian government. Unfortunately, the contents were encrypted and Rae couldn't crack them. However, whatever they were discussing or negotiating seemed to have a pleasing conclusion for Frank, as shortly after the messages petered to an end, he spent an entire week in celebratory debauchery.

He was only three days into his revelries when...

"...he was murdered," Aly says. "So you see, Frank was killed and what he did is leading to a conflict between the Church and the government! It's so horrible! There has to be a way to stop it! If we do, it'll save Dimi! Because she can't have been involved! She's being framed to hide what's really happening! Right? That's what that means, doesn't it? Doesn't it?"

During his explanation, Katy had remained impassive, her face bearing no emotion or any hint of her thoughts.

"How did you discover this, Aly?"

"A friend with implants helped me examine Frank's files. I couldn't have done it without her help. Did you want me to ask..." Aly starts, but Rae suddenly starts furiously shaking her head. "...I mean, did you want me to send you what they came up with? I can transmit them to you."

"Yes, do that. Immediately. And does this friend of yours have a name?"

Rae starts shaking her head again.

"I... ah... I can't share that... I mean not now. Maybe later? She wasn't supposed to use her implants that way, you see, so the fewer people who know the safer it is for her."

"That isn't ideal," Katy says after a moment of silence. "But I imagine you trust her?"

"Oh, yes! Absolutely!"

"You trust her enough to stay silent about this?"

"Yes!"

"Because if what you tell me is true, then she could be killed. Do you understand, Aly?"

He nods.

"Good. Eventually, you will need to tell me who she is, but you can keep her identity private for now," Katy says, leaning back. "But you must tell her that if I don't know who she is, I can't protect her."

She waves at someone outside of the drone's projection zone to approach. The perspective widens to reveal as a Decanted man wearing a black mecha-suit.

"Katy? Who is that? Was he listening..."

"This is Lieutenant Kilen Nineteener. He commands my personal security detail. I trust him with my life. And yes, he was listening." Katy says. "I'm transferring his personal contact codes. He will be collecting you and ensuring your safety. Kilen, if you'll give him the appropriate instructions?"

"Yes, m'am." Kilen steps forward. Though lightly armed with a pulse pistol at his side, his suit's epaulets have a thin gold trim, indicating he's an elite member of the Martian Forces. Giving Aly appraising look that makes him feel as if he's been disassembled and found wanting, Kilen says in a flat, professional tone, "Based on your call, you are currently on sublevel 78. It will take us approximately twenty minutes to reach you via the emergency transit tubes. It appears you are in a safe location, so please stay where you are and do not move. Wait for us. If you run into any kind of danger or any kind of trouble, you must contact me immediately. If I have anything to do with it, this will be the only time you will be vulnerable. After this, you will have an armed guard with you at all times. Until then, you must be careful. Trust no one. Do you understand?

Aly regains his voice.

"This is completely unnecessary! This has to do with Dimi, not me! I don't..."

"Aly," Katy says. "You were right to contact me. You are in danger. The powers that are involved in this matter won't hesitate to inflict violence if that furthers their goals. If you want to stay alive, you have to let me protect you."

"Yes, but what about Dimi? What about Frank's..."

"I'll deal with it. You can be sure of that," Katy says straightening herself into the elegant, commanding poise that her family is famous for.

"But what will you..."

"I can't go into the details, Aly."

"Yes, but..."

"Aly, please," Katy says. Her expression softens minutely. "You can trust me. I will save Dimi. But you must let me do my part. There are many people I must consult and it will involve delicate conversations."

Aly forces himself to exhale, releasing the building pressure in his chest. "Alright, Katy. I will. Please let me know if I can help."

"Thank you, Aly," Katy says, her gaze already far away. "But as I said before, the only way you can help now is to help us find Dimi. Now more than ever, she absolutely needs to be in my protection. She is key to resolving this. I'll speak to you soon."

As the comdrone deactivates and settles back in Aly's hand, he realizes that the complications of the disastrous situation and his inability to deal with any them are proliferating beyond his ability to manage them.

"What did I just do?" he whispers. "Telling Katy was the right thing to do, wasn't it? She'll take care of everything, won't she? What else could I have done? Was it the right thing to do, Rae? Should I have listened to you?"

Rae passes a hand through her hair.

"I don't know, Aly. I really don't. You could have done nothing and told no one, I guess, but that would have meant waiting to see who would win the power struggle. Odds are that no matter who wins, Dimi would have been crushed between the Church and government." She shrugs. "Now that you've told Katy, you've introduced a new party into the struggle. With what she knows and her resources she might have an edge over them. Hard to say, but I certainly wouldn't bet against her."

Aly's heart sinks in a heavy combination of frustration and horror. "But I don't want anyone to win! I want the conflict to end! I want them to leave Dimi alone! I want them to leave my family alone!"

"But you know, it could be a good thing," Rae muses. "if Katy prevails then maybe she'll be able to control both the Martian government and the Church."

"Control? What?" Aly protests, appalled. "That's not what I wanted her to do! I wanted her to use the information to stop the..."

Rae laughs. "Katy is a LeoAng, Aly. Did you forget what that means? She's a member of one of the most powerful families on Mars! She was raised on politics. She was trained to sniff out any opportunity that would increase their power. Rest assured, that's exactly what she'll do. The LeoAng's influence has been on the wane, especially with the recent scandals, so this could be their way to regain their prominence." With a bright expression, she claps Aly on the shoulder. "And she'll definitely thank you for it, Aly! She'll take care of you, Dimi, and pretty much everyone else you want. So don't you forget me! Though... knowing her position on the Church, she may not be too inclined towards me. I may need to quit being a novitiate! Hurray!"

"No... this isn't what I wanted..." Aly mumbles. "I should contact Inquisitor Zos and explain what's going on. I..."

Aly is suddenly shaken so hard that he feels his brain rattle. Rae's incredulous expression is a few centimeters from his face.

"The Inquisitor? Are you insane?" Rae demands.

"No! I'm not! If the Church knows the situation, then they..."

"Yeah? Then what? What do you think they'll do when they know that there's another party looking for Dimi who knows what the stakes are? What do you think they'll do?"

Aly doesn't answer, as visions of what the Inquisition, lead by the ruthless Inquisitor Zos, would do.

"They're going to increase the intensity of their search a hundredfold, Aly. They'll stop at nothing to get Dimi and get what they want. Right now, they're probably avoiding looking too hard so they don't draw too much attention to themselves. The government is undoubtedly doing the same. But once they know - both of them know, that is - that there's real competition, they're going to use every resource to find your sister and then extract what they want from her with everything they have."

Thankfully, Aly's need to come up with a response is obviated by,

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Aly and Rae look to each other in shock.

"The Earthers! They're attacking!" Aly says. "We have to get to the shelters!"

But Rae shakes her head, as her eyes focus on the news streaming over her implants.

"No, Aly. It's not an attack. It's much worse."

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# Chapter 20: Are you prepared, Ivan?

Unlike Dimi and Aly a few moments ago, Ivan felt prepared.

He can't not be. For what he's about to do and for who he's about to confront, he can't afford to make any mistakes. There will be no more games. He will get his answers.

"Where is she?" he demands.

A slow whir spins M4ry's upper section, as it orients its ocular receptors in his direction. There's an interminable delay as the old drone pings the house's internal tracking system.

"According to the most recent scan, Smiley Halver is currently in the back guest quarters that she has been occupying since..."

Ivan doesn't wait for the rest, storming into the stinking warren of Frank's house. But he comes to a jarring halt. A thought occurred to him.

"Come with me M4ry. Enable your recording functions immediately. Activate your comsystem."

"Certainly," the drone responds. "Recording in progress. Do you wish me to place a call?"

"Not yet," Ivan says. "But be ready to contact the Martian Police when I tell you to."

M4ry chirps a confirmation, engaging its chassis to follow behind Ivan's striding gait. With the drone's skittering limbs and whining gears, it's impossible for Smiley not to know they're approaching. There's a risk she'll attempt to flee, but Ivan considers it unlikely, as she has no reason to think he's coming for her.

Still, he takes no chances as, coming up to the guest quarters, he motions for M4ry to halt. Reaching out to the door handle, he slowly and quietly presses down, easing the door open.

"...status? Are there estimates of the response?" Smiley says.

As Ivan peeks in, he sees she's sitting on her cot, leaning over an old flatscreen datapad and talking to someone over the network.

"They'll be pissed off. What do you think?" a woman replies, her heavy sarcasm evident in spite of the low quality of the voice projection.

Smiley's back tenses, as she bites back an angry reply. "Yeah, they'll be pissed. But I want to know if it'll be a good time for me to join the rest of you. I'm done with waiting here, Gina."

"Who knows? Maybe. It depends on if the operation works."

"Why wouldn't it work? Hasn't everyone been trained?"

"Yes, but..." the woman pauses. "Who's that behind you?"

"What?" Smiley whirls around.

Seeing Ivan and M4ry in her doorway, her eyes fling wide, and she slams a hand on the datapad, cutting the connection. She stands up scowling, tossing the datapad on her bed, though without - much to Ivan's irritation - any hint of embarrassment or guilt. They stare at each other for a long time.

"Who were you talking to?" Ivan asks.

Smiley crosses her arms. "It's best that you don't know."

It's all Ivan can do not to explode.

"You presume to know what's best for me?"

She has the decency to look away. "It's nothing that concerns you."

"You have no idea what concerns me," Ivan snarls, his voice rising. "I have a number of questions for you, Smiley. I guarantee you that I will make you answer all of them to my satisfaction. You'll begin by answering my first question: who were you talking to?"

Smiley studies Ivan for a moment, trying to see if he's being serious. Seeing that he is, her brow creases, and she bites her lower lip.

"This isn't the best moment... or the best company. Shouldn't M4ry leave?"

"The drone stays! It will witness this!" Ivan roars.

Smiley flinches at the outburst, taking a step back. Her mouth gapes slightly. With a frown, she asks,

"Ivan... are you alright? You don't look well..."

"I'm fine!" he snaps, but his cheeks heat with the lie. He's furious at himself. He's been scrambling around like a fool trying to find answers - when they were there in front of him the entire time. Bringing the frayed edges of his mind back in line, he adopts a properly calm demeanor.

"Smiley, I have no patience for any kind of stupidities that you may want to conjure up to waste my time. I have questions and you will answer them. Don't try to lie to me. I'll know. In fact, I'm pretty sure I know the truth, but I want it to come out of your mouth. If you give me an acceptable answer, I will be lenient with you. If you don't, M4ry will call the police and they will drag you away. Do you understand me?"

"But..."

"Do you understand me!"

"...yes, I do."

"Good." Ivan closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he locks them on to Smiley's. "Where were you on the night Frank was murdered?"

"Where? You know where I was," she says evenly.

"If I were you, Smiley, I'd answer me honestly right now," Ivan growls. "One more try or the police will deal with you. Tell me where you were on the night Frank was murdered."

Pursing her lips, she mutters, "I was here in the house, completing my overnight shift."

"Where exactly were you?"

"Ivan, I'm not certain..."

"Where. Were. You?"

Smiley grinds her teeth. "I was in the house."

"You said that already," Ivan snaps. "Did you not hear my question? I know you did. But you don't want tell me directly where you were? Alright. Let's eliminate the possibilities then. Were you in the kitchen?"

Smiley shakes her head, glowering at the floor.

"No? How about this room?"

Head shake.

"Were you in any of the guest rooms?"

Head shake.

"Were you in the living room?"

Head shake.

"Were you in storage area?"

No movement.

"No answer? But this should have been the easiest question to answer," Ivan says, his teeth bared. "The storage area is where Frank set you up to manage his affairs. It's where he set up a communications port that's dedicated to you. It's supposedly the one that you used to contact him about Greta on the night he was murdered. So how could you not have been there?"

Smiley doesn't say a word.

"You weren't there because the call to him was a simulation," Ivan declares. He pauses, watching Smiley shift on her feet. "It was a very good simulation. I was impressed when I took a closer look at it. The reactions of your sim were believable and there were no pauses that would have given it away. I imagine it helped that you've talked to Frank so often about Greta that you knew how he would react. Still, you had to have included a number of extra conversation trees in case he didn't say what you expected. Either way, my final assessment is that it was excellent."

"Ivan, please. Don't you know that M4ry is recording this..."

"I almost missed it, you know. Really, I would have never caught it, until I started looking for clues intentionally." Ivan continues, ignoring Smiley's darting, increasingly panicked glances. "Of course, simulations always have a specific resolution frequency in its projection, which is impossible to hide. It's unnoticeable to the naked eye, but easy enough to detect with any vid-sampler. Had anyone decided to employ one, it would have revealed your sim in an instant. But then again, it was an acceptable risk, wasn't it? Everything about your conversation with Frank fit with what we knew, so there was no reason to investigate further. Since it took me so long to figure it out, I wouldn't be surprised if the police never get around to it. After all, why would they think a half-breed deek could pull off such a sophisticated sim like that?"

"Why are you saying these things?" Smiley pleads. "I thought you were on our..."

"No more lies, Smiley!" Ivan barks. "Where were you that night?"

"I don't understand! Why..."

"Tell me!"

"But you shouldn't know! It's safer this way!"

"I'll decide that! Tell me where you were!"

"This doesn't make any sense! It's too..."

"Where were you!"

"But you know where I was! It was your idea!"

Ivan grits his teeth. "Don't to deflect your guilt on to me. You were in the mecha-suit. You killed Frank,"

Smiley grimaces, screwing her face in frustration and confusion, "Yes! Yes, I was! I killed that fucker! Why are you making me say this? Is this some kind of test? You know all of this anyway! It was part of our plan! Why are you putting all of us at risk?"

His mouth dry, Ivan says, "I don't know any of this."

"What do you mean you..."

"I don't!" Ivan barks to Smiley's unbelieving face. "I want you to tell me! Tell me everything! Tell me how you killed Frank. I want the details, Smiley. Where did you find Dimi's mecha-suit?"

"Where? Where he asks me?! Finding the mecha-suit was easy!" Smiley says dismissively. "The suit was in a pawn-shop on level 65. The shop is dedicated to former Decanted in the service. I visited about fifty shops before I found it hanging in a back closet. Based on the pawn-chit, Dimi had loaned it out temporarily. She probably forgot about it."

Ivan nods. That made sense. It also explained why no one else knew that Dimi's mecha-suit was there since the lower-level pawn shops were notorious for not keeping records.

"Since it was only on temporary loan, how did you get it?"

Smiley curls her lips into one of her rare smiles. "I'm her bastard sister, aren't I? Everyone knows me. I told the owner I was there to pick it up for her. I threw in an extra hundred credits to shut her up, and I got the suit without a problem. It was perfect. Anyone looking in on it would assume that it was Dimi who had come back for the suit."

"How did you use it? How could you use the military mecha-suit without a skullcap? You aren't trained for it," Ivan asks.

Smiley snorts. "Who do you think test-drives those suits? The workers in the mecha-factories regularly bypass the usual interface and go straight into the suit's base systems. My contacts told me how. All I had to do was activate one of the suit's trial settings, and I could use it. Of course, I didn't have access to the suit's higher functions, but it's not like I needed those to kill Frank." She twists her lips and spits. "The only thing I regret is that I wasted my efforts waiting to kill the bugger just right. I wanted him to suffer and be really afraid. I wanted him to know that I was taking away his chance to join the Great Infinity. I wanted him to beg for mercy. But the asshole just laughed in my face. He laughed!"

Ivan struggles to process the implications of Smiley's revelations. He guessed that Smiley had done all that but somehow... he couldn't truly believe it until she said it to his face. He hates to admit it, but it was the Inquisitor who had given him the insight when he'd commented that the person who killed Frank was "whoever" who was in the mecha-suit.

"Ivan? I asked you what you wanted me to do. Did you want me to proceed with the call?"

It's M4ry.

"Since Smiley Halver has declared her guilt in killing your father, would you like me to contact the Martian Police? I have also taken the liberty of readying my security measures. I am able to deploy them at any moment to apprehend her."

Ivan and Smiley stare at each other wordlessly.

"That won't be necessary. Yet," Ivan says. "Remain on standby and place yourself on alert for any kind of threatening behavior from Smiley or any attempts to flee."

"Ivan, I don't understand. Please. I'm begging you." Smiley starts again. "Why won't you tell me what this is about? Why are you threatening me? You know all of this already.

It was..."

"No! I don't! I told you I don't know about this! You fucking idiot!"

Smiley raises her palms to placate him. "Ok, fine. I get it. You're pretending. You need to keep your record clean so you can deny it..."

"Will you shut up!" Ivan hollers. "You've been insinuating my involvement ever since I saw you on the murder scene! Your little comments, your ridiculous assumptions about how 'we' are working together. Absurd! There is no 'we.' There never will be! Do you understand me? I swear, Smiley, one more comment like that and I will have the police drag you away!"

Smiley glares. Her face is flushed with confusion and frustration.

"What do you want from me?" she says.

"The Earther artifact that you stole. I want it."

"The artifact?"

"I told you not to play games with me!" Ivan almost screams, but knowing that this is the riskiest moment, he says reasonably, "Don't worry, I'll pay you for it. Five thousand credits. Seven if you're prompt. I'll even have M4ry erase her records so you'll be in the clear. So? Where is it?"

But Smiley's reaction is as astonishing as it is infuriating. After looking at him with bemusement, she shakes her head and starts chuckling to herself.

"You want that piece of junk? And you want to pay me credits for it?" she says with a snort. "As if any of that matters. Credits? Artifacts? You're just like them, aren't you?"

"....what?" Ivan manages. "What nonsense are you talking about? Do you have the artifact or not?"

"Sure, I do! Sure!" she crows. "To be honest, I'm surprised I kept it! I should have thrown it away. But it worked better than I ever hoped for as a distraction, so it made more sense for me to keep it just in case I needed it again."

Ivan is thrown again. "A distraction? What are you talking about? So you don't know what it is?"

"And to think that I thought you were with us," Smiley says contemptuously. "You never were a real Non-Singularist, were you? People always warned me that you didn't mean what you were saying, that you were just playing with us. But I told them that wasn't the case. I believed you when you said it would be a travesty against humanity if should everything be permitted. I'm disappointed."

"I don't care what you think about me! I want to know where..." Ivan's fury instantly extinguishes as he stops in shock. "What did you say?"

"What do you mean? That I'm disappointed in you? That I should have realized that you were lying all along?"

"No! Not that that! What you said about 'everything being permitted.' Where did you hear that?"

"Where? Are you insane? I heard it from you. You told us that."

"That's not possible."

"How couldn't it be?" Smiley says. "That was your central argument for the Non-Singularist future! It was how you convinced us that the Singularity should not be allowed to happen. Because it would erase all boundaries and make everything and anything possible, there would be no need for any morals, any rules, or any beliefs. Nothing would be forbidden or taboo. Everything would be permitted. But in doing so, everything that makes us human, would disappear at the same time. You argued that the Singularity is best understood as..."

"...a hyper-individualistic fantasy of the elites who merely want the freedom to act with impunity..." Ivan completes, as the distant memories of one of his spur-of-the-moment arguments come back to him.

"...which is why the Singularity is fundamentally inaccessible to the common Martian Citizen as a matter of design. Therefore, the dream of the so-called Great Infinity is a planetary-level tool of oppression and control rather than the embodiment of hope, which it should be," Smiley finishes with satisfaction. Hope returns to her face, as she asks, "Do you remember now Ivan? Once Frank was killed and Dimi implicated, you would be the executor and you would have access to his funds. And once you had that, you would be able to fund the Non-Singularist movement at last so we can finally start our own colony and be free. Don't you remember, Ivan? Ivan?"

But Ivan's head is pounding. He has no time for this. There is only one thing he wants:

"The artifact. Where is it?"

"Ivan, it's only junk..."

"Shut up! I told you to give it to me!"

"But..."

"Do you want me to call the police? M4ry...!"

But before he can complete his command:

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Ivan looks around wildly as soon as the siren ends. An Earther attack! At this moment! This is insanity! He has to figure out what's going on. He's desperate for any kind of data console from which he can get the news. But the damned Inquisitor destroyed his comdrone! He needs to come up with a solution. His only choice is,

"M4ry! Get on the network immediately! Where is the Earther attack coming from? How much time do we have to prepare?"

The drone replies, "There is no Earther attack ongoing."

"What? But the sirens..."

"The emergency siren was initiated in response to a high great threat of similar import."

"Of similar import? What could be similar to an Earther invasion?"

The drone continues. "The Vault of Minds has been attacked."

"The Vault?! Attacked? Who could have..."

"Official reports are contradictory, but some newsfeeds are reporting that the entire complex has collapsed on itself from the inside. A fractional nuclear device appears to have been detonated."

Anything Ivan was about to say is completely wiped from his mind when he hears,

"Yes! They did it!" Smiley yells triumphantly.

"...Smiley? You were part of this attack? You knew this was going to happen?" Ivan says aghast. But the pieces fall in to place: "You're part of a rebel Non-Singularist group. You used the money I gave you to fund this."

"Yes! The Decanted are rising up! The rebellion is starting!" Smiley says beaming.

M4ry's gears whine as it moves into an attack stance, "Smiley Halver with your confession as a terrorist, you will be apprehended..."

"Override 5043 alpha," Smiley says. "M4ry, enter sleep mode. Erase all recordings for the last hour."

Abstractly, Ivan realizes that it's his civic duty to apprehend Smiley. But he does nothing as she heads to the door. Before she leaves, she turns to say,

"The artifact you want is in the storage room. It's in a recycling bag next to air-processors." She pauses to add, "I'm warning you though, Ivan. It's not what you think it is."

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# PART 3

# Denouement

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# NEWS UPDATE

# DECANTED TERRORISTS DEFEATED! VAULT OF MINDS UNHARMED!

"Counter-terrorism operations are nearing completion," General Kimmer Pors of the Martian Army stated today. The general has been responsible for the operations following the Decanted Rebel terrorist attack that struck The Vault of Minds two days ago. While the planetary-wide emergency has been rescinded, the Martian Army remains on high alert.

Approximately two thousand rebels have been captured and are being processed to have their citizenships rescinded. The number of casualties has not been released but is thought to range between five and seven thousand individuals. The Martian Police remains active in resolving civic disobedience.

The Martian Unified Government has maintained that the impact on the Vault of Minds is minimal and that none of the main data servers within the storage caverns have been affected. The rumors that the Vault of Minds has been devastated are categorically false. All brainscans of all Martian Citizens within the Vault of Minds remain preserved and are ready at any point to join the Great Infinity.

However, given the extensive structural damage to the complex, any new brainscan deposits to the Vault of Minds must be temporarily delayed. To accommodate this situation, the Church of the Singularity has opened new brainscanning facilities within both the cavern-habitats and the dome-habitats. The Church has guaranteed that the facilities will provide high-fidelity scans quickly and efficiently.

Despite the assurances, there have been numerous public disturbances demanding to know the state of their family members' brainscans. Others have requested to review their contractual agreements. Unfounded rumors are circulating that some contracts have been voided without notice, and some have experienced failures in obtaining services they claim were guaranteed. The Church has offered a blanket reprieve on deposit fees and placeholder amortization programs, including a reprieve on any Decanted Life Debts. This arrangement has been further guaranteed by the Martian Unified Government.

It is anticipated that the social unrest will abate as the perpetrators of the attack are rounded-up and imprisoned. Immediately after the attack, a number of Decanted individuals with low loyalty scores deserted their posts with the goal of using the resulting confusion to flee. Unconfirmed reports claim they planned on establishing an illegal settlement on the surface. This assessment is supported by evidence that the Decanted rebels had stolen supplies necessary for a new settlement, including oxygen recirculators, protein farms, and mecha-excavators.

While most of the Decanted rebels have been suppressed, a small group remains entrenched within the Labyrinth. They are well-armed and benefit from the region's difficult terrain. With the approval of the Martian Unified Government, General Pors has initiated a regional bombardment of the area. It is expected that the rebel group will be eliminated within three days.

General Pors has warned that rebel agents and sympathizers may still be present in the population, and has urged all citizens to be cautious, particularly in regions with many Decanted inhabitants. The general has reassured everyone that the identities of the rebels are known and it will only be a matter of time before they face justice.

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# Chapter 21: Fraying edges

Ivan had to see the devastation of the Vault of Minds for himself.

A torrent of images was readily available on the network, taken from every angle imaginable and streaming on every newsfeed, but he didn't trust them. How could he? Most showed little to no damage at all. He suspects they're hiding the truth. He knows they are. Only his own eyes would do.

"By my calculations, once we get over that ridge, you should be able to see everything for yourself," M4ry's voice says from within Ivan's rebreather helmet. The drone is standing over a hillock, its four legs stable despite being precariously balanced over loose, jagged regolith.

"Hold on, I'm coming," Ivan grumbles, awkwardly navigating the uneven terrain. His clunky boots and thick overalls aren't making it easier.

As soon as they cross the ridge, he's looking out over the Plains of Argyre. In its exact center is the Vault of Minds, the sprawling facility built guarantee the hopes and future of Mars.

"Give me the magnifiers."

"If you increase the resolution by 85%, and activate the mist dampeners, you will be able to get better detail," M4ry says, after Ivan squints and struggles with the ancient device.

He follows the suggestions without a word, suppressing his irritation. But when the magnifiers resolve, he lurches backward, looking away and shaking his head and repeatedly checking if the magnifiers are working properly. The magnifiers are fully functional. After a calming breath, he looks again.

Past the swarm of security drones hovering in the skies, past the legions of military mechas sentinelling the area, and past the building-sized excavators heaving boulders, Ivan sees a disaster zone. It's no mere "insignificant structural damage." There's a massive crater. The ground is sunken in, as if it had been sucked down from beneath. At the centre of the crater, above where the Vault used to be, a network of fissures radiates outwards, fracturing solid rock as if it were glass. In the epicenter, the rock has been churned into sand.

This should be impossible. The Vault of Minds was carved from beneath a kilometer of solid volcanic basalt, reinforced by sheets of graphite, each a meter thick. It was designed to withstand the most powerful attacks. But they assumed the attacks would have come from above. Not from within.

"It looks like the blast radius is about two kilometers wide..." Ivan muses.

"Two point three kilometers." M4ry corrects. "To achieve this type of damage, a bomb was detonated from within the Vault. At a minimum, it was a fractional nuclear device with a yield of at least zero-point-four kilotons. The explosion likely occurred on the main level, collapsing the caverns above and below, and precipitating a chain-reaction of failing structural integrity."

Ivan shakes his head. None of the images on the network showed any of this. No wonder.

"There's no way the Vault's servers weren't affected. The servers may be in the deepest, lowest caverns, but the radiation alone would corrupt the brainscan recordings, if not outright erase them." He frowns. "Perhaps those Decanted were right to be wailing like they were."

On the way here, they had passed several groups of Decanted huddling together as they screamed and cried in despair, fearing that their loved ones' brains scans were lost forever. They were commiserating in impromptu groups, as small and as quiet as possible so as not to trigger any police response.

"Ivan, please be aware that the window of time when it is safe to observe this area is closing," M4ry says. "In ten minutes, the satellites above this region will be returning, and we will be vulnerable to detection."

"Fine. I have everything recorded anyway. We can leave. Let's head back to the transport."

As they walk, Ivan stares balefully at the droid's skittering chassis. He hates how he's become dependent on it. But after the Inquisitor destroyed his comdrone, M4ry has been the only way he's been able to do anything on the network or anything remotely useful - like finding a way to visit the Vault of Minds in person.

The Martian Police had cordoned off access to the region to any surface traffic and tube transit. But M4ry had found an access path that was free from surveillance. The route went through difficult, remote terrain, but somehow the drone had located an abandoned, yet still functioning octopede transport that could take them here. M4ry explained that the transport had been part of a survey team that had been forced to abandon it, but never came to retrieve it.

Frankly, it shouldn't have been possible for the drone to find the transport or the path, since its search functions should have been censored over the network like everyone else's. Ivan can only assume that it had something to do with the specific parameters he gave it that made it find such an obscure route. He was the reason for its success. That must be it.

"This path may be frequented soon by the media."

"What?" Ivan blinks at the comment. The drone had suddenly stopped walking and swiveled its upper module to face him.

"This path will likely soon be discovered by newsagencies using similar search parameters. They, like you, will wish to verify the official statements by visual confirmation," M4ry says. "However, by the time they come, the government will have already completed their excavations on the surface and eliminated the evidence."

"Well, that's what the recordings are for, isn't it?" Ivan snaps.

"Certainly," the drone agrees. "But it is my duty as the Mazer household drone to inform you that there may be legal repercussions if you decide to transmit them yourself. The Martian Unified Government will seek to suppress the information and discredit you."

Ivan has half a mind to scream that he didn't care, but he replies,

"You think I don't know that? I have a plan."

He doesn't.

After Smiley disappeared, the chaos started in earnest. The realization that there wasn't an imminent Earther attack tempered the panic that had engulfed all the habitats. The panic, however, was replaced by anger and outrage as news spread that the Vault of Minds had been attacked by rebel Decanted. Genenorms stormed the Decanted levels, burning and looting everything. Ivan shakes his head thinking of the untold deaths and mayhem that raged for a full day before the Martian Police finally intervened.

Smiley and her compatriots had likely hoped their actions would precipitate a great revolt from all the Decanted tired of living under the yokes of their Life Debts. They probably hoped that their daring attack on the Vault of Minds would distract the government enough that they wouldn't be able to respond to a Decanted uprising, which would in turn provide cover for their own attempt to flee and start their own unsanctioned settlement. But they had badly underestimated both the average Decanted's willingness to revolt and the government's plans for such an eventuality.

The instant the Earther-attack siren was raised, Martian forces had scrambled, spreading out over the surface, and powering their massive anti-orbital canons. But they barely held their positions for a few seconds before they were redeployed into the Labyrinth where the rebel Decanted had started to escape into. The reports say they were heading towards a fleet of hidden rapid-transport shuttles, which they'd hoped to take their new settlement. Had they reached them, they may have been able to disperse and survive for some time. But an orbital bomber found them instead, destroyed the transports, and they were forced to fight.

They didn't have a chance. A single titanomech could crush them all. The Martian forces sent five. But the rebels weren't instantly extinguished by the gigantic mecha's hands, feet, and plasma canons. They holed themselves deep into a ravine too narrow for a titanomech, forcing the Martian forces to send their infantry to systematically destroy them.

"There is still no news," M4ry says.

"News? What do you mean? About what?" Ivan replies, startled by the disruption.

"There is no news regarding Smiley Halver's arrest. She has not yet been captured during either the government's or the police's activities." Before Ivan could spit out an angry reply, the drone continues. "You requested I keep you appraised of any developments. Now that I have re-connected to the network, I am providing you with an update."

"Alight. Let me know if anything changes."

"Of course."

It would be disastrous if Smiley is caught. Odds were that she would be killed, as these types of rebellions tended to be dealt with ruthlessly as a message to others, but there was always a chance that some prisoners may be taken alive for re-education. Ivan hopes dearly that Smiley will end up her corpse and that her head be destroyed too so no information can be extracted.

But that isn't right or fair, Ivan thinks, grinding his teeth in frustration and guilt. Smiley shouldn't be punished because she isn't to blame. He is. He was the one who taught her and her friends and gave them reason to rebel. He was the one who gave her the idea to kill Frank. This attack, this whole thing is his fault. But it's not just that is it?

Yet all that - all of this debacle - was nothing in comparison to what Ivan had found when he examined the Earther artifact. The curse thing made it clear that he was wrong. About everything. Everything he once believed is a damned lie. But he needed the rest of the artifacts to...

"Do you wish to proceed to next location?" M4ry asks, again startling Ivan.

They've reached the octopede transport. The drone is standing beside the entry hatch, helpfully holding the door open so Ivan can get in. He stares at M4ry for nearly a full minute before his thoughts come together.

Coming to a decision, he steps into the octopede and says,

"No. I'm changing our itinerary. Take me to the Tempe Terra Mausoleum. Get me there as fast as possible."

As Ivan settles in to his seat, a single, infuriating thought comes to him. It's a barb of jagged wire tearing at his mind and sanity. Smiley was right. The artifact isn't what he thought it was. And it's dangerous.

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# Chapter 22: Out of the action

Dimi wants to be out there. She wants to be back serving with the Martian Forces. It's her duty to defend Mars from all threats. And she knows now that the planet's greatest threat is coming.

After Greta left her, the attack siren continued to sound for ten piercing minutes. As it rang, a deep rumbling could be heard - and felt. The blast doors were closing. The doors are in front of every single cavern-habitat. They're solid tungsten-steel doors fifty meters thick and powered by their own dedicated nuclear plants. As they ground shut, citizens from the vulnerable surface areas were evacuated down into the deeper levels. For the first time in a long time, "domies" and "cave worms" were forced into proximity. Any arguments were stifled by taught silence as they waited for the expected Earther attack.

Soon the regiments of mecha-suited troops arrived, and it was then Dimi nearly dropped out from where she was hiding, offering to help. They could have used it. Most of the troops she saw were nervous and fidgety. They were newbies who had never seen action. The real battle-hardened troops were posted on the front lines. These guys were given patrol and bunker detail - which, as Dimi could have told them, was just as critical. Should the front lines collapse, they would end being among the last defenders responsible for survival of Mars.

But just as quickly as the troops came, they were redeployed and replaced by the Martian Police. Shortly after, the all-clear announcement was made telling people there was no Earther attack. The relief was temporary. Because soon news of the bombing at the Vault of Minds arrived and spread, followed by shock and anger. Their futures were being attacked! By damned Decanted rebels no less! The rioting that followed targeted any and all Decanted and could not be restrained.

"Fucking wankers. There's a fucking real threat out there! Instead of dealing with it they've got these stupid police prowling around acting like goons and bullying the innocent," Dimi mutters, as another police patrol passes under the service vent she's hiding in.

After waiting a few more minutes, Dimi pops out and lands into her battlestance. But there's no one there but her. The hallway is clear. It's easy to see why. Everything is still wrecked from the rioting. The floors are strewn with debris and speckled with blood and gore. The walls are charred and battered with large chunks missing from the blasts of crowd-control munitions. Overhead, the scatterlights, those that still function, spark and flicker, casting strange, hazy shadows. Dimi quickly jogs down the hallway and into another service way. From there, she lifts another hatch and lowers herself into a filter junction.

The junction she's hiding in is overlooking an open area. It's a designated assembly zone, where citizens can find shelter and supplies that could last them through an Earther attack. But though there's no invasion to flee from, the area is packed. It's filled with Decanted who were rendered homeless and are now too fearful to return to their habitats. Many are injured. Among them are aid workers handing out rations and water packs and providing what comfort they can.

And, as Dimi was hoping for, she picks Aly out from the crowd. Of course, there was no way for Dimi to warn Aly that she would be coming to find him. She knew however, she could count on his softie heart. But she frowns when she marks a soldier in a black mecha-suit, standing to Aly's side and monitoring everyone who comes close. By the patches on the shoulders, she can tell the soldier is one of Katy's bodyguards. She bets that Katy posted him there for his "protection," but probably to keep an eye out for Dimi.

Aly doesn't seem to notice the soldier at all. He's sitting with a small family, sharing a cot with a woman in a battered cook's uniform and two thin children. In the cot facing them, another woman is stretched out, her eyes shut and her face ashen.

"Everything is fine, Sam. I'm sure of it," Aly says, patting the uniformed woman's back.

"But how could it be fine?" Sam wails, twisting her hands. "The Vault of Minds has been attacked! They're saying that..."

"The official reports are saying that none of the main servers have been damaged," Aly says firmly.

"But what about the ones for the Decanted? They didn't mention those!"

"Sam, you know that's a myth. They don't use different servers for the Decanted. Everyone's brainscans are held on the same servers."

"Yes but..."

"Sam, please sit down. You're upsetting your children."

"You don't understand! I spent all the credits..."

"Think of your wife, Sam. She needs to rest."

That shuts the Decanted woman up. She sits back down on the cot. Only a second passes, before she gets up again, this time to kneel next to her wife. She picks up her hand, and presses to her lips.

"I already paid the full sum for her to get a brainscan," Sam sighs, caressing her wife's hair. "I thought we had plenty of time for her to get to the Vault but then the attack..." She collapses into tears.

"We'll get her to one of the temporary scanners," Aly says, extending a reassuring hand.

Sam bats it away, as she snarls. "The temporary scanners? They all have waiting lists! The earliest appointment we can get is a week away!"

"We still have time..."

"What makes you say that?" Sam demands angrily. She points at her wife. "She hasn't regained consciousness since we brought her here! Her lungs are ruined! Do you think I'm blind? The infection is in her blood now! How long do you think she has?"

Aly opens and closes his mouth.

"That's what I thought. She's dying. My dearest Livia is almost gone and there's nothing I can do for her," Sam wipes the tears away from her eyes. "This is such a disaster. What have I done? I should have spent the money to treat her, not place a deposit in the Vault! I'm so stupid! Now look at us! We're doomed!"

Dimi shakes her head. The Decanted woman is righter about that than she knows, though not in the way she thinks. A serious fundamental threat is coming that could mean the end of every human on Mars. She needs to tell Aly about what she's learned about the Earther artifact. She has to figure out a way to pull Aly away from that soldier. She has to get his attention somehow and have him come over. Maybe if she threw something at him or whispered very loudly. It could work so long as nothing unexpected happens like...

"Perhaps I can help."

Dimi swears with a passion under her breath.

"Katy! I'm so happy you're here!" Aly says brightly. "You got my message?"

"Yes, I came as soon as I could," Katy looks around. "Had I known how bad it was, I would have come sooner."

Awed whispering rises around them, wondering what a LeoAng could be doing among them. In answer, Katy waves and signals with her hand.

"Bring in the supplies. Make sure they're evenly distributed. Have one of the med-drones come here immediately."

At her command, a dozen workers equipped within transport-mechas start walking into the room, moving gingerly in the crowded space. On their backs are stacks of emergency supplies. Most exciting of all are the five med-drones following in after. They're the most recent models built over light-frame hexapedal chassis, and they're stocked with a full complement of drugs and regenerative treatments.

"Treat this woman," Katy commands a drone, pointing at Sam's wife. "I believe you said her lungs were infected?"

"Y-yes, that's right. It's her lungs. From breathing improperly filtered air," Sam stutters.

"Don't worry. We'll stabilize her," Katy nods. "She won't miss her chance to join us in the Great Infinity."

Dimi gags. Okay, fine, she admits that Katy is doing a great thing, but it's exactly what a conniving LeoAng would do to get the predictable fawning reactions of gratitude. It's intolerable.

But doubt sets in Dimi's mind. Perhaps Aly isn't the right person for her to talk to. Logically, she should be talking to Katy. After all, her aunt is the Chancellor. If she spoke to Katy and told her what she knew and the threat they're about the face, it would satisfy her duty to defend Mars.

But... she just can't.

That bitch would get her claws into her somehow and never let her escape again. Katy would see to it that any way out would be locked down right around her. Dimi would be chained down and made into a creature of the LeoAngs. One more thing more would be certain as well: there would be no chance of her seeing Greta again.

Dimi shakes her head with violence. Pain is thundering in her head, as she struggles with her responsibility to defend Mars. She fights it down. ... it would be so easy to turn herself in now and she could finally rest. All she has to do is jump out, flash her smile, and it would all settled...

No. No! NO!

Dimi clenches her fists until sharp pains cut into her palms. She grinds her teeth. She may have her duty to fulfill, but there's more than one way to do it. She'll find a better way. Unwinding her body from its twisted knots, she gets up and turns away.

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# Chapter 23: Inklings

Of course, Aly is happy to see Katy. He appreciates what she's brought and recognizes the enormous impact her generosity is having. But, as he watches her move around the grateful crowd - smiling, touching people's shoulders, and caressing tearful children - tension bends his back and tightens his shoulders. With great effort, he resists the urge to run over to her. He can't risk looking foolish with so much at stake.

When the attack siren rang, Aly is ashamed to admit his first reaction wasn't fear or confusion. Nor did he feel any kind of steely patriotic resolve. For the sliver of a second as he believed the Earthers were coming with their terrible war machines, he was happy knowing the planet was about to enveloped in cataclysmic violence, resulting in untold deaths and horrors. It would be a good thing. Because in the flames of the impending planetary war, Frank's political machinations would be irrelevant. In the battles, Aly may even have a chance to redeem their family and they would be worthy of the Singularity once more.

But those hopes were dashed when Rae told him what was really happening. The shock of the revelation turned Aly's knees turned to water. Nothing more had any more meaning as their future, their hopes, their dreams were destroyed with the Vault of Minds. As his mind reeled, a wide, vacuous chasm opened in his chest, widening and consuming everything within him. For he was culpable through Frank's actions. He was guilty because Aly could have - should have! - done something to prevent the disaster. A calmer mind would say no one would a draw a line from his father's transgressions to him. But it was not time for reason.

Thankfully, reason did return as more news trickled through to Rae's implants. The apocalypse hadn't happened. They were told that the most critical parts of the Vault of Minds were still preserved. As news of this spread, some normalcy returned - as much as it could when the Decanted were threatening to overthrow the system in a massive Uprising. Yet this too proved to be an exaggerated fear, as the rebellion was stifled before it could fully unfold. The carefully planned system of control and suppression that involved both the Martian Police and the Martian Army had effectively deployed and returned everything back to the status quo. "Well, it seems like these supplies should hold this group for a little while, don't you think, Aly?" Katy says with satisfaction as soon as she returns. Turning to Sam, she asks, "How is your wife doing? Has she stabilized?"

Sam leaps to her feet. She seems on the verge of bowing or grabbing Katy's hand or something similarly embarrassing.

"Y-yes! She's back to breathing properly again. The stimulants seem to be having an effect. The med-drone said she would be stable for a week... that should be enough for her to get her brainscan, won't it?"

Katy's brow wrinkles in thought. "It should be, but you should go to a scanning station as soon as possible."

"Yes, we will. I was hoping today we could..."

"That may be too soon. Remember, the med-drone she shouldn't be moved for at least two days."

"Oh, yes of course. I'm such a stupid fool..."

"You're not stupid. You're a caring spouse. Everyone should have a spouse as devoted and loyal as you," Katy says. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there is another Decanted refugee area on the lowerlevels I need to deliver supplies to..."

Aly leaps at the opportunity.

"Oh, ah... Katy? Do you have a few moments? I was hoping to ah... to talk to you about... a few things?"

A wisp of a smile flutters over Aly's lips, easily blown away should Katy dismiss him.

"Of course, Aly. I always have time for you," Katy smiles, patting his arm. "It will be good to reconnect. It feels like it's been some time since we chatted, doesn't it?"

Aly matches Katy's light, carefree laughter as best he can - despite his agonizing anxiety.

"I know what you want to talk about, Aly. You want to ask me about Frank's blackmailing attempt, don't you?" Katy says.

Aly nods and blurts:

"Can you save my family?"

Katy shrugs. "I don't know yet, Aly. There's not a great deal I can tell you... not so much because I don't want to tell you, but because I simply haven't been able to get that much information myself. Everyone's been occupied with this fiasco at the Vault, and it's only now that I'm able to reach my contacts. But I'm afraid what I did find out won't provide much consolation. I imagine you still want me to tell you what I know, don't you?"

Aly bobs his head, holding his breath.

"Like you, I want Dimi and Ivan to be cleared of all charges..."

"Ivan?" Aly interrupts before he can stop himself. "Dimi is the only one who's accused, isn't she? This has nothing to do with Ivan, right?"

Katy's expression darkens. "Yes, officially it is only Dimi the police are looking for. But my contacts tell me they're looking for Ivan as well. If it was just the police, that would be easy to deal with. But the Church is looking for him too. Whoever finds him first will whisk him away and take him to their holding cells. You haven't heard from Ivan, have you?"

Aly shakes his head.

"Neither have I." Katy's jaw clenches hard. "No one has found a trace of him. He hasn't been answering any of my call requests. It's as if he's completely vanished off the planet." She flashes her gaze to Aly with intensity. "You must tell me if Ivan contacts you. You'll promise to do that?"

"Of course, I will," Aly replies reflexively. "But do you know why they're looking for him? They can't think he murdered Frank too, do they?"

Katy sighs. "I don't know. No one seems to know anything. Even my contacts at the highest levels don't know a thing. And no, not even my aunt knows what's going on."

"Your aunt? The Chancellor? How could she not..."

"That's how serious this is," Katy says grimly. "Whatever is going on, it's triggered the most secure and most classified protocols within the Martian Unified Government. The Prime Protocols. The protocols were apparently installed immediately after the war, and they're meant to function independently of any oversight. They're only enacted when there is something so critical that nothing can prevent them being implemented. As far as I know, the protocols can only be enacted in response to two possible things: either an Earther attack or the start of the Singularity."

She grinds her teeth in surprisingly visible frustration.

"But that can't be it! It's impossible! It makes no sense! It has to be some kind of plot! Dimi and Ivan are being used as a cover for something else! It has to be! It all has to do with Frank and that damned artifact! Something about it triggered all this. The attack on the Vault, the uprising, everything!"

Katy composes herself.

"I apologize, Aly. I don't mean to worry you. This..." Her face tightens. "I will resolve this, Aly. I swear I will. Everything hinges on finding Dimi and Ivan before anyone else does. And that will happen. I am sure of it."

Aly does his best to match Katy's confidence. They're both silent and lost in their own dark, brooding thoughts as they walk back to the cots.

"Her heartbeat is stronger! She opened her eyes for a small moment!" Sam says happily as soon as they near.

"That's excellent, Sam. Excellent. I'm pleased to hear it." Katy says.

Sam continues, "If she regains consciousness and lives, we may be able to go to the Vault of Minds ourselves and get her brainscan there! We've always wanted to see it with our own eyes!"

"If it's even still there," Aly mutters, giving voice to his doubts. But seeing he'd spoken aloud, he adds quickly, "It's impossible to say when the repairs will be done. But certainly, you and your wife will be able to see the Vault one day!"

"Yes, you will, Sam. Yes, you will." Katy agrees, giving Aly cool look. "However, I suggest that you take her to a Church office as soon as you can. And remember to be as careful as you can. There's still a risk of violence in the hallways."

"Oh, don't worry! It'll be no problem!" Sam says with a wave. "Taking my wife will be easy compared to what I've done in the past. It's not like I'll be in the Catacombs again looking for some ridiculous artifact for Frank."

Aly and Katy stare.

"What did you say?" Aly whispers.

"I said I'll be able to take my wife..."

"Not your wife!" Aly snaps. He takes a breath. "What did you say about looking for an artifact? When were you looking for an artifact for Frank?"

"When?" Sam replies, confused. "A few weeks ago, I suppose."

"And this was an illegal Earther artifact, you were looking for?" Katy presses.

Sam pales. "I never found it! I didn't find anything! I know of no artifacts!"

"Damn it, Sam! We don't care about that!" Aly explodes. He's thankful Katy intervenes before he throws himself at the poor Decanted woman.

"What Aly means is that it doesn't matter if you were looking for an illegal artifact." Katy speaks slowly and calmly. "That doesn't bother us, and we're never going tell the police. I guarantee I will protect you if ever it becomes an issue. But you have to tell us everything about this artifact. What were you looking for? And where exactly in the Catacombs were you looking for it?"

"I-I don't know that much... I swear, I don't!" Sam says, her voice cracking. "Frank had hired me to look for some Earther artifacts in the Catacombs. He said Dimi was supposed to have brought them to him, but she had hidden them from him. He didn't tell me any more. He said he didn't even know what they looked like. All he knew was that Dimi had hid them in the Catacombs down at the bottom of the Marineris Valley. He told me to track her down and see where she goes. He said that because I was a nobody, Dimi wouldn't suspect that I was following her."

"What did you find?" Aly asks.

"I told you! I didn't find anything!" Sam insists. "I followed Dimi around for weeks, watching her get drunk, but she never went back down to the Catacombs. So Frank forced me to go down there to see what I could find. All I could find were a bunch of tracks that led into the middle of the complex and then they just disappeared. Dimi had covered her tracks! I did my best to find the artifacts, but I'm no tracker! I'm a cook! But when I went back to Frank, he refused to pay me for having gone down there. But he said that he would pay me if I found anything or not! That's what he said! I just wanted to be paid! It was dangerous to go down there! I needed the money for my wife and my family! He said he would pay! That's what he said!"

Neither Aly nor Katy are listening any more. The only thing that matters is Sam's revelations and how to act on them considering the inevitable complications.

As if reading his mind, Katy says,

"Even if the artifact is in the Catacombs, there's no way we can find it quickly. A systematic search of the Catacombs could take months, and we still wouldn't know if we found it or not."

Aly agrees, "We still need to find Dimi. But who knows when we'll able to find her?"

At that, a woman's voice interjects:

"Perhaps I can help."

They all turn to face a slim Decanted woman in a military jumpsuit. It's Greta.

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# Chapter 24: The Academic

As ordered, M4ry brought Ivan to the Terra Tempe Mausoleum. It wasn't easy getting there. They needed to use a planetary hopper to cover the distance, and hopper usage is strictly regulated. But all too conveniently, they wandered into a deserted hopper facility, found one ready to go, and blasted off. It was a good thing no one was there. The drone told him an active search for him was ongoing from multiple parties and they needed to be cautious. Fortunately, there's no need for secrecy at the Mausoleum itself. No one visits the place anymore. The only thing that can be heard as they enter the facility are Ivan's footsteps and the clicking of M4ry's legs upon the dusty floors.

Six halls radiate out from the central chamber. After some hesitation, Ivan heads into one on the left. A dim light peeks out from ahead, which Ivan knows to be sunlight. Unlike the other halls that plunge deeper into the sanctity of the planet, this one climbs upwards and ends with a circular window, looking out over a cliff. In the distance, towering above and touching the sky is the great Olympus Mons. On its sloping sides is a twinkling constellation that marks the University.

For, this hall honors the academics who were unable to obtain a viable brainscan before they died. But not all of them are here, Ivan thinks bitterly. There should be one more name carven into the walls. Li's. He petitioned hard to have their name put there, but the lying, deluded fools at the University refused.

Ivan stares at the empty space on the wall. It was pointless and dangerous to come here. But he had to. He had to remind himself of what happened. He needed the physical reminder of his failures and of the University's betrayal. And he would he would make things right for Li.

"Would you like me to make any modifications to the walls?"

Ivan jolts, and stares at M4ry.

"I am equipped with a graphite drill that can penetrate the rock here." A hatch on M4ry's side opens and the drill appendage unfurls.

"I made no such request," Ivan growls.

"Yes," M4ry agrees. "But you were staring at the names on the wall and, I gathered from your expression that you were unhappy with something there. As you know, my primary drivers induce me anticipate your needs, which means that I may sometimes give the impression that I am studying you like a hawk. However, my attention is not at all predatory and merely..."

"What? What are you talking about?" Ivan frowns.

"I said that I am only paying attention to you and..."

"I know that! You said like a hawk. Why the hell..." Ivan shakes his head and curses. He has no time get into the nonsense the drone has been spewing. The thing's interactions with him have been getting more irritating. "I'll tell you if I need you."

"Then perhaps you would could give me a timeframe? This way I will be able to calculate our transportation needs when we need to leave for our final destination..."

"I don't have a timeframe."

"I see, but to reach the Catacombs, I will need to..."

"Shut up," Ivan snaps. "You'll figure it out. You have so far. In fact, you seem to have more skills than I thought you did. Why is that?"

M4ry lights flicker, processing the question. "Is it possible that you are unfamiliar with the full range of my capabilities? I can pull out the user manual for you to look at..."

"I don't want to look at the manual!"

"Or perhaps, I have never been employed as you are employing me now. Your father never requested I do anything beyond basic caretaking. Therefore, I never had the opportunity to demonstrate anything else. Does that sound reasonable?"

Ivan chews on this. "Barely." He flicks his hand and turns away. "I don't have time for this. Just shut up and I'll let you know when we're leaving. I have my reasons for doing things this way."

Does he though?

Or is it a cheap rationalization?

The insult releases a flood of memories. It was the one that Li had thrown at him the first time they met. And it was after meeting Li that he learned the truth of the University and changed everything.

In that period of his life, Ivan was known under another name: Ive. Like many dedicated researchers studying the Singularity, he had chosen a new genderless name and adopted genderless pronouns. Among true academics there would be no silly emotions, no outdated prejudices, no backwards regressive concepts of gender. Nothing but the truth and logic and science mattered.

And Ive was at the height of academic career. There had been many obstacles to overcome, and definitely much contempt and mockery along the way, but Ive flourished in spite of it all. Shining brightly, they forced open a path to the highest echelons of the University. Ive not only became one of the few celebrated researchers sanctioned to study the Singularity, but because of their brilliance, they were assigned a specialized project: how to stabilize the brainscan matrix. It was one of the single most intractable problems in the entire upload process. No one had figured it out. Ive was given the "privilege" of studying it. It was a huge honor.

Or so Ive thought.

Even after over a year of study, Ive couldn't figure it out. They had nothing to show for their work. Stabilizing the brainscan matrix wasn't considered an impossible problem for nothing. Yet despite this, Ive still needed to regularly present their findings. And presenting nothing would be humiliating and could result in being kicked out the University.

Fortunately though, when Ive started publishing papers and giving talks on the ontological derivative phenomena of matrix destabilization events, the only reaction was applause. Ive was very much relieved. Because what they had come up with was little more than hand-waving bluster. Thankfully, few, if any, researchers understood the technicalities of Ive's work. This had the happy consequence that the more obscure research paths Ive took, the more people applauded and claimed they were brilliant. It was easy. Maybe too easy.

At a conference and after Ive spewed a particularly inspired set of pseudo-scientific blatherings, someone laughed. It was shocking. Usually, people didn't understand a word, and instead nodded in agreement to mask their confusion. But this person dared to laugh!

"Was something I said amusing?" Ive asked with the frigid coolness of the Martian poles.

"Oh, yes, very much so," the person smirked.

"And what is it that you find so very much amusing?"

"Just the fact that none of what you said made any sense. You just made it up, didn't you?"

Ive hesitated a millisecond before replying with a contempt.

"Made up? Hardly. I've been working on this research for an entire year. You can find my work in the Journal of Advanced Matrix Research. What I've said is a logical extension of that work as well as the previous works of Tuk et al and Phontas and Joi. My work clearly demonstrates that..."

More lies. Ive spent the next fifteen minutes weaving a believable if convoluted story. Ive felt they'd done a particularly good job of it. Indeed, the listeners in the audience applauded the mental exertion, bringing the talk to an end. They'd tired of him and were eager to give Ive their approval so they could get away.

But Ive's challenger wasn't impressed.

"Oh, you're good," they said after everyone had gone. "But unlike the others, I studied your work. What you said may be convincing superficially, but you and I both know that it's just a cheap rationalization to tie everything together."

Ive replied, "You have some gall to say that. You had better have proof."

"Come on. You think I don't have any?" the person said. "Fine. Let me point out the flaws. Publication of your work started exactly eight months ago, and in your papers you initially describe an output pattern with a sigma pattern. It didn't mean anything, but you used the argument as a foundation to find other patterns that matched entirely by coincidence. You then constructed a ridiculous rationale that was pulled out of thin air. But that wasn't it. Based on that, you built a whole slew of so-called findings..."

No emotion showed in Ive's face, as they listened quietly. But superheated nova of shock was expanding in their chest, as their work was neatly deconstructed. It was a disaster. This person had seen through Ive! They knew that Ive couldn't figure out the problem they'd been assigned! Ive was going to be exposed as a fraud!

Ive could only say,

"What do you want from me?"

"Want?" the person said, surprised. "Nothing! Do you think I care if you built your career on a foundation of foam?"

They grin.

"I did too! Just like you, I made up my own field! I'm supposed to be studying a field called 'historical sociological patterning of cultural projective stability.' Nonsense, right?"

"I... I don't understand."

"That's exactly my point. Listen, Ive. We've been given our silly research questions for a reason."

"What do you mean? They're important research questions!"

"Are they? Are they really? Or were we given the questions because we're both unwanted here?"

"...Unwanted? That's absurd."

"Come now. You don't think that we're accepted, do you?"

"Why wouldn't we be? We're doing critical work!"

"Ah. I see that there's much deconditioning that needs to be done. I suggest we continue this over a drink. My name's Li, by the way."

Thus did Ive meet Li. And it was through Li that Ive learned what the rest of the University really thought of people like them.

Initially, Ive refused to believe it. But the evidence Li presented was hard to refute. Especially the secret recordings of people chatting and laughing during closed-door committee meetings, deriding Ive and all those who had been relegated to studying nonsense field like Ive and Li's. They were delighted that they successfully isolated people like them in their little research corners since it spared people from having to come into contact with someone as tainted as the child of Franklyn Mazer. They'd not only never accepted Ive, but they'd been laughing at them the entire time.

And so Ive, Li, and other rejects set about to get justice. But instead of simply confronting those who would dismiss them, they did something much better. They applied their considerable research skills to the University's files and they broke the many encryptions that protected them. And they started to uncover and unmask the hypocrisies within the University. From professors repackaging old work as ground-breaking new revelations to falsified test records for the children of wealthy citizens. Through strategically leaks and carefully worded articles, they shared their discoveries, and watched as vaunted researchers reputations were consumed in controversy and ended in shame.

But their entertainment couldn't last.

Emboldened by their successes, Li wrote a series of articles questioning the approach that other researchers were taking to studying the upload process. They argued that since the brainscans couldn't be stabilized an entirely new approach to uploading should be adopted. Instead of the current process, Li argued for "cervical translocation into a mechanical chassis" - in other words, implanting a brain into a machine. Such a cyborg-type creature, Li innocently argued, may spontaneously link to the Singularity - with essentially the same likelihood as the current uploading process.

It was a joke, of course, making light of brainscanning process. But that wasn't how the media saw it. Some news-bot misread Li's article, and extrapolated a story that academics believed brainscans to be ineffective. Other news-bots took that story and spun out into an even more ridiculous story about how academics believed that Martians could only join the Great Infinity by becoming horrid bio-mechanical hybrid monsters. A minor bout of public panic ensued before explanations were issued and the situation contained.

Of course the University had to react. Li had to punished and be made an example of. The University had to demonstrate that it controlled its academics. And it decided to do so in the worst way possible: Li was chosen for the "honor" of being the next upload subject.

"You have to refuse." Ive argued flatly. Or, at least Ive tried to say it as neutrally and calmly as possible.

Everyone knew being an upload subject was no honor. It was an open secret that every upload volunteers died and they were chosen because it was a way to get rid of people who had shamed the University.

But Li shrugged and sighed, as they had already analyzed the situation and accepted their fate. Once chosen, there was no way out.

"You know I can't refuse, Ive. If I do, they'd turn me out of the University, and that would be even worse."

"No, Li. You can fight it. Let's think through this. We can threaten them with the other controversies we've found. That would stop them."

Li shook their head. "You know it wouldn't. They would simply discredit us."

"You can run away, then. You have to get out of here."

"Where would I go? Do you see me starting a little colony somewhere? It would be easier and faster to kill me."

"Damn it, Li! Don't say that!" Ive burst out, grabbing Li by the shoulders. "I'll go with you! We can do it! We'll figure it out! Li, please! I don't want you to leave me!"

Stunned for a moment, Li fell silent, but their expression softened as they cupped a hand on Ive's cheek.

"Oh, Ive... I don't want to leave you either. But there's no choice. I went too far and they've won. There's nothing I can do."

Ive said nothing. Their throat was choked with tears.

"Come now, Ive. I won't really be gone, you know that," Li said with a smile. "There'll always be my brainscan. We'll see each other in the Great Infinity. Assuming it's real, of course."

But then, as Ive struggled to find a reply, something shifted in Li's eyes. Suddenly, they grabbed hold of Ive's arm and pulled them close. In bare whisper, Li says into Ive's ear,

"Listen to me, Ive. I found something when I was going through the University's files. Something big. Something that could change the way we Martians think of... everything. I was planning on looking at it with you later but I just wasn't sure how to deal with it. I mean, how am I supposed to figure how to get an illegal Earther artifact?"

Ive could made no sense of what Li was saying.

"I left a data cache for you on the network. I've been sitting on it for a while and did nothing about it because I was scared of what would happen if the revelations inside are true. But I see now that it has to be done. We Martians have been living a lie. You have to go through with what I've found, and show everyone the truth, ok?"

Ive nodded mechanically, but really, nothing had registered. Ive was overcome with grief. The University had won. Li would be forced to undergo the upload attempt. And the attempt would fail as usual, because it was obvious the Singularity was nowhere close to happening. But at least, as Li said, there would still be their brainscan and Ive will be able to rejoin them when the Singularity does happen. It was a small consolation.

But even this small consolation would be dashed.

Later, Ive was told they had disgraced themselves. Ive didn't see it that way. As soon as the signs were clear that Li's brainscan was failing, Ive barreled down the halls, trying to force their way into the upload laboratory. They pounded on the doors, demanding to be let in, screaming that they could help and that they could help stabilize the brainscan. But the only response was to have security sedate Ive and drag them away.

Not only had the upload attempt completely and utterly failed, but Li's brainscan ended up being scrambled into incoherent pieces. It was impossible to resolve it back into a useful pattern. Even if some minor interactivity could be coaxed out of it, it would be insane and in perpetual agony. Li was dead. But instead of admitting this, the University repeated the same nonsense that happened after every upload attempt: that though the uploading failed, fortunately there was still a brainscan for the Great Infinity.

They were lying! Ive could tell from the data displays! There was no way to hide that from a trained academic like them! But in vain did Ive try to make the University admit what happened. Defiantly, Ive declared that they would never stop fighting until the truth about Li was revealed. But their persistent efforts only resulted in them being expelling. Briefly, Ive thought they could still fight. But then they removed their implants.

And Ive was no more.

He was back to being Ivan. Nothing more than a mere human. All he had left was his anger. No, not just that. Ivan reminded himself. He still had what Li left him. And that was how Ivan came to contact Frank and manipulated him into finding that Earther artifact. Now that he has it, he'll make everything right and correct every wrong.

With renewed determination, Ivan says to M4ry,

"We're done here. Let's leave."

"Excellent. I have a transport ready for us. We can be there within..."

"Does the transport have the capacity for planet-wide communication?"

M4ry pauses. "It does not. It is an old-model octopede. Is planet-wide communication necessary? It'll be challenging to find a transport that has that."

"It's necessary." Ivan says. "Make it happen. Find a suitable transport. I don't care if takes time. Every Martian Citizen needs to hear what I have to say."

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# Chapter 25: Participation is mandatory

Dimi was trying to compose a message to Greta when her comdrone activates. It doesn't deploy though. It vibrates five times in short pulses. Quickly, she spins it around so its back lights face her. The lights strobe in a rapid burst, and she screws her eyes and slackens her mind, letting her training kick in to decode the message.

"Muster... of... the... freedom... poons... asap... one hour... safety window... location... at... first... night..."

She leans back and smiles. It's Greta. She's contacting her using standard field-operations encoding. It would be easily deciphered if it's intercepted, but no one except Dimi would know what she meant. Dimi used to call Greta and her the "freedom poons," since she always promised they'd live free from all the bullshit. But if the "first night" location means what she thinks it does, she has to make her way back up to the dome habitats and she'll need to hustle if she's going to get there in time.

Slinging her bag over her shoulders, Dimi tightens the straps on her jumpsuit, pulls on a pair tensile powergloves, and attaches an airmask to her face. The fastest way to get to the domes is by using the tube transport system. But since every transit area is monitored by a bagillion or so surveillance drones, Dimi won't be able to just walk in and take a seat in a pod. She's going to have to hitch a ride on the outside of one.

She jogs down the maintenance tunnels, winding her way to the closest tube transport. She's soon faced with a secured pressurized door. Dimi chuckles. It's "secured" using an ancient retinal scanner. It was probably installed when the first tubes were bored through the rock. The panels are easily jiggled off and short-circuited, which she does with practiced ease.

The door hisses open, revealing a section of the transport tube. It's fifteen meters tall and made of titanium-lace. A short metal stair-case leads up to it, ending at a circular hatch embedded into the tube. It's where workers enter for repairs that need to be done within the tubes or on the pods. There's usually a strict protocol before it's opened, since uncontrolled pressure destabilizations could cause pods to misalign and crash, killing everyone within and permanently damaging several hundred kilometers of tubing. But Dimi's been trained for this. Honestly.

Pressing an ear against the tube, she closes her eyes. A soft thunk. Her ride has arrived. She places her hands on the hatch handles. A click. Then another. The pod seals are unlocking. On the third click, she yanks the hatch open, jumps through, and whips around to replace the hatch. She has three seconds before the pod starts up again. Another click. One more and the pod will fly off. If she isn't holding on, her lungs will be crushed with the sudden change in pressure. Her eyeballs may burst too. She finds the pod. With milliseconds to spare, she digs her fingers into the pods' powerpack, magnetizes her gloves, and the pod leaps forward.

With her entire body pressed against the pod, Dimi grins. It's been a while since she's done something as dangerously fun like this.

"I'm coming, Greta! I'm coming! You'll see!" She screams maniacally into the vacuum.

As she clings for dear life, she again tries to properly phrase all she needs to tell Greta. She's incalculably relieved that she didn't need to try to squish everything into a message. In person, she'll be able to reach out to her, kiss her, hug her, and run her hands all over her, and show how much she loved her. But not only that. In person, Dimi could show how serious she is about there being a fundament threat to the plant. She isn't just making shit up. The threat to the planet is real and they all need to deal with it.

The pod wooshes to a stop. Click. Dimi springs into action. Click. She fumbles around for the hatch panel. Click. With all her might, she kicks it open, jumps through, and slams the hatch back in place. Air sucks in from the edges. The hatch isn't properly sealed! She listens. Any metal screeching would indicate that the vacuum has been compromised. Nothing. It's alright. The pod itself might wobble a bit, but the change in vacuum pressure was within tolerances. Everything is okay. She's a little rusty at this.

Taking off her airmask, Dimi steps out into the dome-habitat. It's nearing sunset, so the dome is glowing a dusky amber gold, while shadows lengthen and pool around the milling people and buildings. Ordinarily, she would hate being out in the open like this and walking around with pretentious domies, but this time she relaxes. Because this is the Scarlet Dome of Pleasure! It's where all domies come for illicit pleasures. True, the surveillance-drones fly around just the same and it's still a crazy risk to be here, but there are so many potential convicts and criminals around that she would be lost in the static. To be safe though, she adds a limp to her walk, and hunches over to change her body profile.

A soft body presses against Dimi, whispering a honeyed voice into her ear,

"Looking for a good time? I've got just the... Ooo! What is that smell?!"

Dimi grins as the indigo-skinned flesh-peddler pushes away and flees. The bouquet of sewage still lingers on her. It's not ideal to see Greta, but if anything, it'll take care of the pheromone trackers.

The crowd of drunken, randy merry-makers makes her smile. For what seems like long ago she and Greta had been among them. After she'd grabbed her away from Frank, this was the place that she'd taken her. It was absurdly expensive. But Dimi didn't care. It was the place you went to if you wanted to party. She and Greta spent all night bouncing around bars, downing watered-down shots and snorting badly cut amphetamines. In between, they danced like mad and made out endlessly. It was glorious. And as they started to lose steam, they stumbled into a seedy hotel... and then their first night together really began.

"Been a while since I've been to this place," Dimi mutters. She squints. At least she thinks it's the place. Things look different when she's sober.

The building she's stopped in front of is squat and egg-shaped. It might have been silvery white at some point, rather than the stained, piebald grey it was now. At one point too, it might also have looked sexy with its curved sides and slopes that bent inward and formed a suggestive dimly lit cleft. Now it looked like a used suppository.

Of course she's careful. She walks back and forth of the building about a half-dozen times to see if there's any kind of obvious enemies lurking in ambush. When she's fairly confident it's clear, she swings around back to the servants' entryway and enters there. A few creeping, shuffling moments later, she's peeking her head into the lobby. So far so good. As expected, the walls and floors are covered in mirror-shine brass and obnoxious "gold" statues of people in acrobatically erotic poses. Besides the awful decor, nothing looks out of place. Amazingly, the place looks deserted.

And Dimi sees her! Her darling Greta! She's leaning against a pillar with an irritated scowl on her lips. Dimi grins and checks her breath. She gives her hair a quick tousle so it doesn't look quite so greasy and limp. Then with a burst of energy, she sprints across the lobby, hooks Greta by the waist, and swings her around and into her arms.

"Hey there, babe! I got your message! I... Hey what's wrong?"

Dimi frowns as Greta struggles and pushes her away.

"Damn it, Dimi. Let me go! This isn't the time for this!"

"Not the time? What do you mean? There's always time for a little fun, isn't there?" Dimi says, quirking her lips in the roguish way that usually softens Greta. But seeing it isn't working, she relents and lets her go. "Ok, fine. I've got something to say to you. It's incredibly important so you have to listen. See, I remembered something important about that Earther artifact that I have to tell you about. I..."

Dimi pauses and frowns. She stiffens. "Something doesn't feel right. Are you sure this place is safe? I... Whoa! Move! Now!"

With a leap, she throws herself at Greta, pulling her to the ground and forcing them to tumble away. A foam round bursts and expands exactly where they were standing. Grabbing Greta by the arm, she yanks her and makes her scramble over behind a statue of voluptuous woman straddling a gargantuan phallus.

"You were followed! We have to get out of here!" Dimi curses. She ducks and shifts as another foam round bursts in front of them. She can't help but laugh. "Look! They're using those stupid crowd-control rounds! Those things are too slow to catch me!"

"Dimi, you idiot," Greta growls. "Of course, they're using those rounds. We don't want to hurt you. You were supposed to stand still."

Dimi eyes fling wide. Twin stakes of hurt and anger stab her through the heart and pin her to the ground. But, as soon as Greta moves towards to grab her wrist, Dimi unfreezes and her battlereflexes kick in.

"Fuck! Fuck this!" Dimi roars, whipping out a fist straight into Greta's face. It doesn't land, but it causes Greta to dodge creating just enough of an opening for Dimi to push herself off the ground and somersault three meters away. She glares at Greta.

"Why are you betraying me?!"

"I'm not betraying you, you damn moron! You don't understand what's at stake!" Greta says with frustration. "We have to take you in for your own protection."

"I know what's a stake! You don't know what's at stake! That's what I'm trying to tell you! And I don't need protection! That's some ripe..."

A familiar voice interrupts, "You should listen to her, Dimi."

Dimi looks over as three Decanted in mecha-suits make themselves visible. It's Isa and his stupid creased forehead. Beside him is Kang and Pat. They're both holding bulky crowd-control foam blasters.

"We're here to help. Let us take you in, alright?" Isa says. "You don't have much of a choice anyway. We have the place surrounded."

Heavy steps thud behind her, and Dimi turns to see the rest of the Sweet Sixteens. Horg and Y'in are stomping in from the side doors on either side of the main desk. Martin and Gia both back them up. They're holding taser nets, but for now, they stop at the edge of their deployment distance.

"Let's walk out of here, ok Dimi?" Isa says. "It doesn't have to be messy. None of us want to drag you out of here."

"Speak for yourself," Martin growls. "I wouldn't mind a second round."

"Yeah? You'd still lose." Dimi laughs.

"I'll fucking show you..."

"Shut up! Can't you see she's provoking you?" Isa barks.

Dimi grinds her teeth. She was trying to get a rise out of Martin and force him to slip up.

"Dimi! Will you please just turn yourself in!" Greta says. "I'm sorry it went this way, but we had to make sure you were going to come in. It's dangerous out there. Everyone's looking for you. This is the only way to protect you! Dimi! Do you hear me!?"

Dimi doesn't hear. Her battlereflexes are primed to take over. She isn't going down without a fight. Her body goes loose in anticipation.

But a new gentler voice cuts into her attention:

"Dimi, we know the troubles that Frank caused," Aly says, stepping out from behind Isa. "We know what he did. But we need your help to resolve the mess he created. We need you to guide us down in the Catacombs and find the artifacts."

Dimi frowns. Only half of what Aly makes any sense.

"What the hell are you talking about? What did Frank do? And how the fuck do you know about the Catacombs? I..."

But whatever willingness she had to be reasoned is dashed to bits with,

"Dimi! It's time to stop this nonsense. There's no more times for your games," Katy says imperiously, as she appears from behind Isa as well. At her side are four soldiers in black mecha-suits. "For the sake of your family's honor, stand down."

It's exactly the wrong thing to say from exactly the wrong person.

Dimi spots the distance between her and Horg. Martin isn't far either, and she sees how loosely he's holding his weapon.

With a feral grin, Dimi growls,

"Honor? I'll show you honor!"

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# Chapter 26: The Announcement

Aly watches in dismay as Dimi continues to struggle. Even outnumbered, she's still punching and kicking and wriggling. The fight started when she made a feint to one of the doors. As everyone moved to block her, she backflipped in the opposite direction, landing with both feet into the chest of a Sweet Sixteener in one of the heavy mecha-suits. Dimi wasn't heavy enough to take the man down, but her momentum made him collide into another man, causing a rifle to skitter across the floor.

It was only a taser-rifle, but Dimi had a look of glee as she grabbed it, and discharged a volley at the two people blocking the opposite side door. There was much cursing as a narrow escape route opened, but as Dimi made her attempt to flee, a hand grabbed her ankle and yanked her back, while another Sweet Sixteener in a heavy-mecha suit hurled herself at her, determined to pin her down. That would have been the end of it, but of course Dimi rolled away, and she tried to make another scramble for freedom.

"Ow! She bit me!"

"Hold her, dammit!"

"What do you think I'm trying to do!"

"Got her! Someone... AH! FUCK! Dimi! You bitch!"

"There's more where that come from! Always too slow Gia! You... yuurg!"

"Grab her leg! Grab her arm! Grab it before she..."

"Ha-HA!"

"Damn it!"

The plan had called for Greta to lure Dimi into the hotel lobby where they could easily subdue her with a foaming crowd-control munition. Taser-netting would have been more effective, but Katy had insisted that they use a method that wouldn't risk rendering her unconscious. At this point though, the only way to subdue Dimi without harming her too badly would be to do so "manually."

Finally,

"There! Fucking hell, you're a damned pain the fucking ass, Dimi!" Isa says, as he stands up. He wobbles a bit, nearly tripping over a giant golden phallus.

It took a concerted effort from each Sweet Sixteener grabbing hold of one of Dimi's limbs, and dragging her to the ground. The tussle has wrecked the lobby. The walls are scratched and the erotic statues have seemingly taken their petrified orgy to the floor.

"You traitors! I'm Sweetie, remember? Let me go!"

To this, Isa creases his brow, and says nothing as Dimi continues to struggle. Martin and Gia have stood up, while Horg and Y'in continue to hold her down with their powered gauntlets, and Kang and Pat wrestle to bind her hands behind her back.

"Just be happy we were told to take you in alive, Dimi. When they're done with you, and you still think we did you wrong, you're welcome to take it up with us. But before you do, think carefully who betrayed who." Isa says. He turns to Katy. "She's all yours."

Aly winces as he watches Katy approach Dimi in slow measured steps. She looks splendid and noble, of course, but whatever awe and respect that her manners usually instill has a directly opposite effect. A battery of high-intensity lasers flare out of Dimi's eyes.

"Dimi, we need you to..."

"Ha!"

"Dimi. Listen. This is serious. We..."

"Whatever!"

"This isn't a joke, Dimi. You..."

"I agree! It isn't! You think I want to be your fucking pet? I told you! I'm not marrying you! We're done!"

"This isn't about you and I. It's about..."

"The LeoAngs? Your precious honor and your stupid reputation! Ha! I know all about it! You want me to tell the world about what I know about your family's honor?"

"Dimi! Will you listen?"

"Why don't you just go fuck Ivan and be done with it?"

"What?" Katy flinches. "What ridiculousness is this?"

But Katy's reaction is a fraction too slow, and Dimi homes in.

"He wants you, you know. I wasn't sure until now, but you want him too! You're in love with him! You are!"

"You have no idea what you're talking about! Listen to me! There are major issues that..."

"Ha! You and Ivan are just made for each other! Two fucking over-intellectual snobs masturbating your neurons over how smart and superior you think each other are. Just go for him and leave me the fuck alone!"

"You irresponsible fool! You know nothing!" Katy snaps. "The things I've done for you! The credits I've wasted on you! And this is how you repay me!"

"I owe you nothing, and you know it! You're the one who owes me!"

"You're good for nothing, Dimi! When this is done, I welcome you to go to you precious Greta. Go ahead! See if she even wants you back!"

"...WHAT?"

Aly winces as a hot inferno of anger ignites in Dimi. Even with their powered gauntlets Horg and Y'in struggle to keep her still.

"You fucking bitch! You're the one who knows nothing!" Dimi screams, spittle flying. "Greta's the most honest and true person I've ever met! She loves me!"

Katy laughs icily. "She's a government agent, Dimi. She was playing a role with you. Do you think she really wants you? Do you think anyone does?"

Dimi's mouth works. "That's not true... It's not! Greta! You tell her! Tell her how you feel about me! About us!"

But Greta looks away.

"You did this! You turned her against me!" Dimi snaps her head back at Katy. "You and your connections! What did you do?"

"Nothing, Dimi. I did nothing." Katy sniffs. "As I said, think carefully who wants you. Your old bandmates don't want you. Greta doesn't want you. When you realize that, you'll come back to me."

"Never! You bitch! You've done something! I'll reveal the truth! Just like with your father!"

"Don't you speak of my father that way!"

"Or else what? Huh? Huh? What'll you do? Huh?"

"Damn you, Dimi! Will you listen!"

As the yelling whirls out of control, Aly wrings his hands. Everyone is staring with fascination and discomfort, but no one is intervening. It's probably the best course of action for Aly as well, but he jumps forward, waves his arms wildly, and yells out,

"Dimi! Katy! Please! Stop! You have to stop! Remember what we're here for!"

Silence as both Katy and Dimi stare at him. It takes effort not to melt into a puddle under their gaze.

Aly asks, "Do you mind if I try to talk to her?"

"Please do," Katy replies with a who-the-hell-cares wave.

Aly approaches his sister.

"Dimi, I hate to bring this up again, but it's about the Earther artifact. We need to..."

"I know." Dimi says.

"You do?"

"Of course, I do. What do you think I came to talk to Greta about?"

"Oh," Aly says, momentarily wondering if this would be easier than he thought. "So you know that both the Martian Unified Government and the Church of the Singularity are looking for the artifact?"

"They are?" Dimi eyes widen. "Oh, good! That's a good thing! They can help!"

Katy's eyes narrow.

Aly blinks.

"Uh... Help? I don't think you understand, Dimi. The government and the Church are fighting over it. It's what Frank used to blackmail them. It's somehow connected to the attack on the Vault of Minds and the rebellion and..."

"What? That's ridiculous! It has nothing to with the attack or the rebellion," Dimi snorts. "If that's what they think... then we're screwed. The whole planet is screwed."

Aly shakes his head and tries again.

"Dimi, the government and the Church will stop at nothing to get the artifact. They're willing to frame you for father's murder. They're going to destroy our family trying to get at it and..."

"Who cares?" Dimi scoffs. "Destroy us then! Frame me! I don't care! We've got bigger threats to deal with!"

"What nonsense is this?" Katy mutters. "Has she gone insane? Has her mind finally gone?"

"I'm not making this up! I'm telling you there's a fundamental threat out there that we need to fight! We all do! It's an emergency! We need to mobilize! That's what I've been trying to say!"

"This is ridiculous..."

"Hold on," Greta interrupts. "Dimi, how is it that you even know about this artifact? The last time we spoke, you denied that you knew anything about it. You told Aly the same thing. You said you didn't remember anything."

Dimi has the decency to look embarrassed. "Oh, right. I said that, didn't I? I wasn't lying though! I didn't remember anything about the artifacts! At least not then! I was telling the truth! It's just that I remember now!"

"Now you remember?" Katy says acidly.

"Yeah, I remember now," Dimi growls. "I didn't remember because I placed a mnemonic lock in my mind so I would have no memories about the artifacts. Those things I found for Frank are way too dangerous. It was best that no one would find them, so I hid them and made sure that no one would get them. Including me. The block was pretty extensive and it messed up my mind a bit, but... I knew that it would be unlocked with the right trigger words. Which you said, Greta."

"What were the words?" Greta says with a frown.

"'Fundamental threat.' Because that's what's coming to us and the planet! It's our duty to fight it. It's what we trained for."

To Aly's surprise, this immediately causes Greta, the Sweet Sixteens, and even Katy's guards to stiffen. Dimi's words appear to be a meaningless to Katy as well as she asks,

"What's going on? What does this mean?"

But Greta focuses intently on Dimi, "Are you sure it's a fundamental threat?"

"Of course I'm sure!" she replies.

"What is going on here?"

"You swear you're not making this up?" Isa presses.

"No! I'm telling you!"

"Answer me! What is this about? What did she say?"

"This isn't some kind of ploy?" one of Katy's guards say. He appears to be the others' commanding officer.

"Absolutely not. I'm one hundred percent serious. It's what we've been trained to identify. The Earther artifact is a fundamental threat to our survival on Mars."

"I demand to know what is going on..."

But any more of Katy's words are cut off - as are everyone else's - when a synchronized beep sounds, seemingly from all directions. It's followed by an omnipresent whirring and cries of surprise. Everyone's comdrone has activated at once and launched themselves into the air. Their lasers flicker and spit as every single one them resolve to form the image of a familiar thin man with an intense gaze.

Every citizen of Mars is now staring at Ivan. He's speaking from within a transport - which, judging from the lurching image, is currently on the move.

"Fellow Martian Citizens, I have an important announcement that impacts all of our lives and the future of the planet," Ivan says. His voice, repeated over every device on the planet, echoes and reverberates. "My name is Ivan Mazer. I am a former academic. I am a registered Non-Singularist. Some of you may recognize me as the son of Franklyn Mazer, the man who was murdered by, as some claim, my sister Dimi. This is false. She did not do it. She is innocent. I am the one who is guilty. I am responsible for his death. I am guilty."

Ivan appears eerily calm and detached as he continues,

"I did not kill Frank myself. I was not the one who crushed his skull. But who did the deed is irrelevant. As is Frank's death. Because I am also responsible for the attack on the Vault of Minds and also the Decanted rebellion. I am responsible for everything.

"Because it was through my direct actions and my words that everything happened. I now realize that did those things because I believed a lie, the very same lie that every citizen on Mars has been made to believe. It is a lie that our government and the Church has gone to great lengths to construct and reinforce in every part of lives.

"You are wondering whether you can believe me. I am, after all, a heretic Non-Singularist. So, let me show you something that will convince you. The government claims that the Vault of Minds still stands and our brainscans are safe. See for yourself if this is true."

Ivan waves his hand, and an image of a huge pit replaces him. The pit is outdoors somewhere and a large amount of work-mechas are shifting broken rock. It looks like they're repairing damage that resulted from a huge underground explosion.

"The image you are seeing is what remains of the Vault of Minds after the attack. As you can see, it has been all but destroyed. The attack used a fractional nuclear weapon detonated within the main entrance cavern. It was strong enough that it penetrated two kilometers upwards into the surface bedrock and turned the rock at its epicenter into sand. Everything within was either physically destroyed or exposed to high levels of radiation. If you do not believe me, I am making available the data packet with the full analysis.

"The Vault of Minds is no more. Every brainscan stored in the Vault is now gone. Your family, loved ones, your friends are truly dead." Ivan shrugs. "But then again, that never really mattered either. The brainscans would never have been uploaded into Great Infinity anyway. It was all a lie. A silly gimmick. But one that placed the whole of our population, and especially the Decanted, into indentured servitude.

"Because the uploading process doesn't work and will never work. This isn't because of a temporary technical challenge that our hard-working academics will one day overcome. I mean the uploading process will never work because it's a fundamentally flawed process that is designed never to work. Why? Because the government and the Church don't want you to know the real truth:

"The Singularity is a lie. None of us will join the Great Infinity. It is pointless to think that we will. Everything we've done in support of that belief has been a waste." Ivan's face suddenly cracks into a terrifyingly unhinged smile. "Don't worry, I have proof of this. I am on my way to get some Earther artifacts that will reveal everything. In the meantime, if you don't believe what I said, go see the Vault of Minds yourself. See with your own eyes if I'm lying."

The projection suddenly ends.

Utter uncomprehending silence.

"Is it fake? Could the images he's showing be false somehow?" Isa asks.

Greta shakes her head, "They look real enough to me. I haven't taken a close look at the data, but a quick glance tells me it's true."

"But if it's true and the Vault of Minds really is destroyed... the consequences... how people will react, especially the Decanted..." Isa shakes his head.

"Everyone will want to check for themselves."

"And when they do? What then?"

"What is the official response? Are they mustering the troops?"

"But what about the Vault? Should we check it?"

"No, that's not what we should be looking into. It's the impact on the people we need to think about..."

The disordered discussion is cut when Katy grabs everyone's attention with,

"Stop. You are focusing on the wrong thing. Regardless of if the Vault of Minds is destroyed or not, now we know what Frank used for his blackmail." Katy forces herself to say the next words. "If what Ivan said is true about that artifact, then Frank had proof that the Singularity is false. That's why the government and the Church were willing to pay anything to keep him silent. If he shared the truth, our entire society would collapse."

A moment of silence is spent considering Katy's words.

"I hate to say it, but that sounds right to me," Greta says. "I was told to infiltrate Frank's circle, but I was never told why. I was only told to keep watch for anything potentially incriminating. That's probably what I was supposed to find. But it was too sensitive for even me to know about."

"But how can that be? All this time they've been lying? It seems unlikely..."

"Unlikely like the Vault? That looked real enough."

The conversation again descends into chaos.

Throughout it all, Aly doesn't add a single word. His mind is near the point of collapse. If even a small part of what Ivan said was true... Everything... all that he believed, all that he's done... all that he's hoped for was for nothing.

And when everyone else on the planet reaches the same conclusion as him... this time, there will be no stopping a Decanted rebellion. Every one of them will rise up, and not just the most desperate ones. Unbidden, Aly's thoughts drifts to Sam and his family, and wonders how they are and how they are taking the news...

"Hey! Hey! HEEEEY!" Dimi yells until everyone pays attention to her again. Strangely, she's grinning. "Have you forgotten about me? I'm the one who got the artifacts in the first place. I know what they are too! And you know what? Ivan's lying. He can't be going to get them, because he doesn't know where they are! Only I know where they are because I hid them!"

"You mean the ones in the Catacombs?" Aly mumbles hoarsely.

"Yes! Wait... How did you know that?" Dimi says in surprise. "Shit, if you know that, then Ivan probably knows too... But anyway, the Catacombs are huge. There's no way he would be find out where I hid the artifacts."

"There's no way Ivan could figure it out?" Katy asks.

Dimi scowls. "Ok, fine. There's a small possibility he could find where I hid them... but it would take him lots of time. And that means that you need to listen to me! You have to help me retrieve the artifacts before he does. But you know what? He's wrong that they're proof that there's no Singularity. The artifacts are almost as bad though."

"What is it then?" Katy asks. "Is it this 'fundamental threat' you were talking of?"

"Actually, yes," Dimi nods. "The Earther artifacts are the Enemy."

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# Chapter 27: An unpleasant conversation

The transport jostles again as it shifts its weight over a rocky outcropping. It's another near-derelict quadpede that M4ry somehow uncovered and revived from an abandoned refuse pile. The scuffs on the floors and walls and the bare, utilitarian seats suggest it was used for surface workers and their tools.

"It was indeed used to convey land surveyors to prospective sites - which is why the seats are not as comfortable as you are used to. I apologize for that," M4ry says from beside Ivan.

The drone has wedged itself into one of the cargo bays and latched its legs around the transport's central strut. Perched like that, it looks unsettlingly bird-like and impossibly alive.

"There are no birds on Mars," Ivan growls.

"There are not," M4ry agrees. "There will likely be none for the foreseeable future either."

"When do we get to the Catacombs?" Ivan asks, refusing to be drawn into another idiotic argument with the machine.

"Approximately an hour and half from now. It is difficult to estimate our transit time with precision due to the instability of this transport," M4ry replies. "However, it is possible for me to push the transport beyond its current safety margins and get us to there earlier. Would you like me to proceed?"

Ivan chews on this. "No. We're in no rush. Our arrival time is acceptable. Now leave me alone. I have things to plan."

"Certainly."

Ivan has nothing to plan. After making his announcement, all he needed to do was wait and let things unfold. But he could do with far less interactions with drone. He's grown to hate M4ry. The damned thing has encroached on his thoughts far more than is decent. He wants it to leave him alone with his thoughts. Though this may not be ideal either.

As he closes his eyes, the memory returns of how Li's revelations had led to all this business with Frank and the artifact. When Ivan had gone to meet Frank at his home, it had been over a decade since he'd had any contact with Frank. During the entire time, neither cared to acknowledge each other's existence. It must have been a surprise when Ivan appeared unannounced at his door.

Smiley had at first claimed that Frank wasn't there. But Ivan knew that Frank was home. He'd studied his movements and his habits for a week prior. Without a word, Ivan looked straight into the housecamera, which he knew Frank would be watching, and took out a biometric scanner and confirmed his genetic identity right then and there, so there would be no trickery. Ivan had come prepared.

But nothing could prepare him for the sheer disgusting physical reality of his father. In his distant memory, he remembered an abrupt, easily angered man who only took notice of his children when he blamed them for every ill in his life - especially for the crime of their mother abandoning them. The man Smiley led him to was everything and nothing that he remembered and prepared himself for.

The images and vids that Ivan had studied had shown a grotesque man, rendered misshapen and corpulent by a rash of cheap bodymods that had overgrown their design limits. Swaths of flesh shone and glowed, while others twitched and glistened with oily sweat. But none of the images told him that Frank would stink. Not of the typical odors of sweat and unwashed bodies. Frank had had his pheremonal glands replaced, and he exuded a sickening saccharine odor with undertones of burnt flesh and battery acid.

"My boy! My boy has come back to me!" Frank exclaimed loudly. He was sprawled over a dirty couch that his entire body encompassed. "I'm so glad to see you! What have you been up to? Now if only all my children could return! Oh, how happy that would make me! Now, Ivan what... ah... what occasion brings you here?"

Ivan almost snorted hearing the suspicion in Frank's voice. He couldn't sit down across from him, as there were no other chairs in the room. An unsubtle, childish message that. Frank was of course worried Ivan had come for money, or that one of Frank's enemies was using him in some convoluted plot. Pathetic.

Calmly and methodically, Ivan crossed his arms and told him what he had learned from Li's data cache. He had prepared a convincing story that mixed believable lies with some selected truths. He of course made no mention of Li.

He explained that he'd discovered something shocking when he was going through the Martian archives. As an academic he had free access to them, and he routinely went through them to find something worth investigating. By chance, a search algorithm he developed flagged an old report from the Earth-Mars Planetary War. At a glance, the report seemed normal, but there was something wrong about it. There was a dating mismatch.

Even though the report was labelled as being highly relevant to the war, the activity log was from 2227, two years after the official end of the war. The report described a battle with an Earther warmachine that decimated five entire Martian Army units, including two titanomechs. Out of forty soldiers, only two Decanted survived. In their debrief, the survivors said that they had defeated the warmachine by sending all of their mechas in at once and initiating a simultaneous self-destruct. The survivors would have died too, but their mecha-suits' self-destruct mechanism had been damaged.

Initially, Ivan thought that it was event was simply mis-dated. But when Ivan tried to follow up on the Decanted survivors, he couldn't find them. All traces of their existence had been erased. But though he couldn't find anything more about the battle, it was the aftermath of the battle that was the most revealing. Because, in defeating the Earther warmachine, the Martian government and the Church had discovered something extremely dangerous. Something called the "Prime Protocols" had been activated and a massive cover-up followed.

The Martian Unified Government and the Church had discovered something very dangerous. Though heavily redacted, it was clear that from all the agitated messages that they were worried about the same thing: the feared that the Singularity was threatened. The fears  came from the highest levels of government and the Church no less. Something in the battle was discovered that revealed that the very future that the government and the Church promised its citizens was not going to happen.

And this something? This something was leverage. Leverage so powerful that it could force the government and the Church to do anything. All they had to was get their hands on it.

Ivan had paused.

As expected, with each revelation he had doled out, Frank's face morphed from puzzlement to amazement to rapt fascination and finally to calculating greed.

"Well, my boy!" Frank said, patting his belly with one hand and picking at an ear with the other. "I must say that you surprise me... Smiley! Bring a chair over! Can't you see he's standing? ...I never expected you to come back... Smiley, you useless turd, where's that chair! ...I have to say what you told me is quite fascinating. Gripping! And you claim that this is a real opportunity? You're certain that these Earther artifacts will prove that the Singularity is a sham? You're sure that the government and the Church will believe it?"

Ivan had nodded.

"Weeeeeell! Well, well, well! Aren't you a smart one! You must take after me!" Frank barked a wet laugh. "And to think that my loins produced someone as smart as you! Isn't that great! Now tell me Ivan. Why is it that you are gracious enough to share this information with me?"

Ivan shrugged as he provided the explanation that, unfortunately, was entirely true. For he had had no desire to go to his father, but after looking at all his options, he had no other choice.

Based on the numerous quarantine reports and assessments Ivan had found, the "something" was a collection of Earther artifacts. These had been strewn across the battlefield, and they now needed to be tracked down. It was a difficult task, but since Frank had the resources and Ivan had the knowledge, it only made sense that they work together. He would provide Frank with all the information he would need to find the artifacts. Once he got them, all Ivan wanted was just one of the artifacts for his own research purposes. The remainder would be amply sufficient for Frank to "squeeze" the government and the Church - an expression that was surprisingly repellant when Ivan repeated it.

At that, Frank grinned as he asked innocently,

"Why thank you, my dear boy! Aren't you generous! But why not share this with someone from your precious University? Wouldn't it help them in their perpetual battle of influence over the Church? Oh! Think I didn't know about that did you? Ha! So why me, Ivan? Why is it that I am the one you're looking for help from and not anyone else? Could it have something to do with you being expelled?"

Ivan remembers having gone rigid. Frank's probing gueses had surprised him. Frank had hit closer to the mark than was comfortable. The old bastard was right: Ivan wanted justice. He wanted revenge. He wanted to tear the University down and force it to admit its lies and hypocrisies. But most importantly, he would force the University to admit the truth of what it did to Li. But Ivan would rather be lobotomized than tell Frank a word of this.

"No matter! You don't have to tell me! It's alright!" Frank laughed and winked. "We can do this as if we're simple business partners! I can agree to that. And are you sure that all you want from all this is one piece of the artifacts? One measly piece? You don't want any credits? How about one of the nice new dome habitats? One of those shiny ones stocked with anything you could possibly desire? Remember we're talking about the government and the Church here! They've got the deepest pockets on the planet! We can squeeze them together!"

Ivan repeated the arrangement he was proposing. However, he warned that Frank needed to find a reliable artifact dealer and hunter. Based on his research, they could be untrustworthy and...

"Oh, don't worry! I've got someone in mind for that! Someone I know I can control!" Frank pshawed, spluttering his lips. With a leer, he said. "You know, you surprise me, Ivan. I wasn't expecting you to turn out to be useful. Usually an academic is a dead-end. I fully expected you to never hear from you again. Good thing you were expelled... for whatever it is you did! Too bad I couldn't find out why, as much as I tried!"

Frank's eyes twinkled, as he grinned. "Oh, yeah. I followed you. I followed your brother and sister as well. Who knows when you guys would come in handy. Even though you all hate me... well, Aly claims he doesn't, but I think that's his Church speaking... but I don't give two flying shits what you fuckers think of me! You guys are my flesh, and you can be sure as hell I won't make you forget it."

After that, Ivan and Frank had minimal contact. The decision had been mutual. Frank claimed this way there would be fewer chances that anyone would detect their activities. Ivan agreed. He'd soiled his hands enough. But Ivan should have paid more attention to what Frank was doing. He should have known that the bastard would double-cross him.

A month later, Ivan sent a message asking Frank whether he'd found the artifacts. It should have been ample time for him to find them. But Frank begged for more time. He said that he did have one of the artifacts, but the rest had been misplaced - whatever that meant. Of course, when Ivan demanded to see the artifact that he did have Frank said he couldn't show him yet. It was too risky, he claimed. Once they had all the artifacts together, then he would complete his end of the deal and give Ivan the artifact he wanted.

Ivan would later learn that Frank had been dealing with the government and the Church the entire time behind his back. Even without all the artifacts, he thought that he could bluff them into getting what he wanted. His scheme may even have worked - if he hadn't been murdered first.

"It is very likely. Perhaps it was for the best that Smiley had acted on her own initiative," M4ry says, sharply interjecting herself. "Otherwise we wouldn't be here on this exciting journey, would we?"

Ivan glares. "Didn't I tell you to leave me alone?"

"You did," M4ry confirms. "But you also instructed me to monitor the official police and army communications lines for major activities. I believe what is going on qualifies. There is significant rioting on every habitat level with a significant concentration of Decanted."

"Every habitat level?"

"Every one."

"And how is the Martian Police responding?"

"They have fully mobilized, and have requested additional forces from the Martian Army."

"And?"

"The Martian Army has not been able to comply, as a significant number of the Decanted military units are rebelling as well."

"Then the Decanted Uprising is really happening."

"Yes, there should be no one to stop us from entering the Catacombs. Just as you had wanted."

Ivan shakes his head.

Was this what he wanted? Was this what Li would have wanted? He misses them terribly. He misses the clarity of their thoughts and words. Li was so skilled at finding the crux of the issue and forcing him to see it with new eyes. What would they say now?

Ivan and Li would probably be lounging in their quarters, sharing the narrow space on their sleeping cot, with their legs crossed over each other's. Li would probably steeple their fingers, flash him their signature thin, inquisitive smile, and ask what end result was Ivan expecting.

Threading his fingers into theirs, Ivan would answer,

"Which end result do you mean? Do you mean at the end of my announcement? Or do you mean at the end of the visit to the Catacombs? Or do you mean at the end of our lives?"

Li would bat a hand at his shoulder.

"Don't hedge for time. You know what I mean. What is your end result? What will you do after you find the rest of the artifacts?"

Ivan would have to pause then. He could point out that it wasn't certain that he would get the artifacts at all and that there were still too many uncertainties to know what would happen in the Catacombs. But Li would say, rightly, that he's hedging again. The truth is he never expected to be looking for them at all. He never thought that getting Frank's artifact from Smiley would lead him to this.

But assuming he does connect Frank's artifact to the other ones that Dimi had hidden... Ivan closes his eyes, imagining them in his hands...

"I'd reveal the truth, of course. That's what I'd do. Everyone needs to know that they're living lie," Ivan says.

"They do? And why is that?"

"Why? Are you joking? How could you ask me such a thing?"

"It's a simple question, Ivan. Do you have answer?"

"This is silly..."

"No. It isn't. I'm being serious." Li says. "Why do they need to know they're living a lie?"

Ivan knits his brows in irritation. But Li always had a good reason for their questions.

"The answer is obvious," Ivan says. "It's so everyone can stop being oppressed by the false social structures that control their lives. They could be free and we can finally live as proper Martians. We can build a future in the now and stop chasing some fantasy."

"That was good," Li nods. "That's the same spiel you told Smiley during your Non-Singularity talks, wasn't it?"

"What if it is? It's still true and..."

"So your goals have nothing to do with wanting to tear down the University? To burn it to the ground?"

"You know it does." Ivan frowns. "The University deserves to be punished for what they did to you. They're complicit in the lies that the Church and the government is telling. That's why they all must be torn down."

"I see." Li says. "Wouldn't you say that that's petty?"

Ivan reddens. "Petty? What do you mean? Isn't this what you wanted too? Justice? I don't understand why you're..."

"Justice? I suppose, that's something. But is it something that I want? That's a good question." Li looks thoughtful. "Justice is desirable, but how is tearing everything down justice? Wouldn't it be better if we showed them what's actually possible? To show them what the miraculous future could really be if the government and the Church allowed it to happen?"

"That's not possible," Ivan whispers.

"But what if it was?"

"It's not."

"And if it was?"

Ivan says nothing. He knows what Li is going to say next.

"What if you were wrong? What if by burning everything down, you would burn the chances of us being together again?"

"It's not possible."

"Is it really? After all this, do you really think that it isn't?"

"No. This is just a dumb fear of mine. I will never see you gain. It's not possible! You aren't real! Li wouldn't say this! It's not..."

"But it is, Ivan. It is possible. We can be together again. Remember, in the Singularity, everything is permitted."

"No! Everything is not permitted!"

Ivan stands up suddenly, but he immediately finds himself being held down. Furious, he scratches at his chest, expecting to find hands or arms there... but he only grabs hold of the elastic straps on his chest and the buckles securing them.

"It is not currently advisable to unstrap yourself," M4ry warns. "We are entering the final stretch to the Catacombs and the path is precarious. You may not be able to retain your balance, and you could severely harm yourself."

Ivan forces himself relax back into his seat. It's dark outside the transport. Night has fallen. The only light comes from the glow of M4ry's optical receptors.

"How close are we?"

"Approximately twenty minutes. I was just about to wake you. Are you sure you still wish to proceed?"

Ivan grinds his teeth, inexplicably angry.

"Yes, I do. Let's get this over with."

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# Chapter 28: Into the Catacombs

They would have made better time had they taken an emergency planetary hopper as Dimi suggested, but apparently it "didn't follow protocol." She pointed out that protocol wasn't going to matter for shit if Mars is destroyed, but of course no one listened. They commandeered a fast-transit pod instead. They also insisted on keeping her tied up. Wankers.

And just as Dimi expected, mere minutes into the transit, their pod wobbled and lurched to a halt. The vacuum had destabilized. The Decanted rioters had disabled the tube transit system so the Martian Police couldn't send reinforcements. Dimi was tempted to rub it in everyone's faces - but she didn't since they're all equally screwed beyond all measure

After a number of contact attempts, they're told a tube-crawler was being sent to get them. The specialized, worm-like transports are designed to travel through the tubes thanks to the three sets of pressurized tracks placed radially on their sides. But since most of them are in the process of ferrying troops to riot-zones, they would have to wait at least a half-hour before they could spare one.

So Dimi decides to "entertain" everyone with the story of how she was drawn into Frank's scheme.

"It was after Henry LeoAng committed suicide... Oh, come on, Katy everyone suspects what happened, but fine, whatever... It was after Henry LeoAng's so-called accident that happened to be suicide that I was kicked out of the service. That was some serious bullshit, I tell you. They kicked me out because they said I was no longer fit to pilot a mecha. Can you believe that? Ha! They'd set me up! They rigged their tests so I would fail!

"It some kind of brain-sensitivity connection test. There were big words involved and a weird cranial device. They said it was supposed to test my synaptic reaction time and adaptability. The weirdest part was that they didn't have me pilot a mecha at all. They only had me sit in front of training screen and pretend to be in a mecha. Weird, right? They gave me commands, and I had to pretend to do them as if I was in the mecha. Move left leg. Fire right hand canon. Activate chain glaive. Easy stuff I can do in my sleep.

"But I still failed! They claimed my neuroplasticity had degenerated to subpar levels and I was no longer able to make an optimal connection to my mecha. They said if I continued to try, I would fry my mind. What bullshit! So fine, I might have been slipping a little, but I was doing way better than lots of other pilots in the service. Those guys are fucked up. Some of them can't even string two sentences together. Compared to them, I was doing fine! I knew I had at least three or four years left in the service!

"But they still kicked me out!" Dimi whirls and jabs her chin in Katy's direction. "Because of her! Because of you, Katy, and you fucking LeoAngs. You just wanted me out of the service. You were too afraid that I was going to embarrass you, weren't you? You wanted me out so you could control me. I knew you ordered that test!"

And to her surprise, Katy admits,

"Yes, Dimi, I ordered that test. I did it to protect you. They should have given that test at least a year before that. Piloting the mechas was slowly killing you, Dimi. You had one or maybe two major mecha-operations left before you would be completely brain-fried."

Dimi snorts.

"Come on! Don't you think I know my own limits? We mecha pilots know our limits, right? We know when to stop, right?" She looks around, appealing to Greta, the Sweet Sixteeners, and Katy's guards. None make eye-contact. Dimi scowls. "Ok! Fine! I was nearing my limit, but do you know what a 'major mecha-operation' even means, Katy? It's a full-on engagement. Your whole mind and body is involved. It lasts for something like a whole hour. Regular, every day mecha use isn't that. If I'm just moving around and patrolling, I can run a mecha for days without any mental strain. It's true, dammit! Don't give me that look! I know what I'm talking about!"

A surge of frustration wells in Dimi, but it crests and washes over, leaving only sadness in its wake. What came after she was kicked out of the service nearly broke her.

"Piloting mechas is the only thing I'm good at, Katy. You took that away. What the hell did you expect me to do after I was kicked out? Did you expect me to thank you? To happily walk into that cushy little cage that you made for me and lock myself in? Oh, sure, don't remind me about that job you set me up for as a 'consultant.' I'd be stuck in meetings all the day, and on my free time, you'd trot me out to your fancy social events.

"There was no way I could do it. I'd rather be brain dead than do that shit. True, I didn't know what I was going to do instead, but the service gave me a small decommissioning payment. For a little bit, I had grand plans of starting a new mercenary outfit of my own. I imagine me and my crew could do protection gigs, you know? ...and yeah, you bet I'd recruit my Sweet Sixteens ol'pals. Yeah, believe it or not guys, I was going to come find you. You said I forgot you guys, Isa. But I didn't. Whatever you think of me now, I swear I hadn't forgotten you. How could I? You were my only family.

"But I got drunk. I gambled. I fucked around. I got into fights. I got into debts. It's not like I wanted to end up that way. Like most folks out of the service, I found a gig as a bouncer and running security. I started earning some income. It wasn't too bad actually. But then I started drinking again. And then I lost all my money on some bad bets. That continued for a couple months.

"By chance, I got roped into an artifact-hunting crew that needed an extra hand. They wanted someone who had experience in battlezones, so I was perfect. I didn't think much of it - I thought fetching Earther artifacts for rich people was dumb. But it turned out I was pretty good at hunting! More folks brought me onto their teams and I collected more stupid shit for rich fuckers. It was going to be a sure thing for me!"

She sighs.

"But like before, whatever I earned, I pissed away. It was another thing that I fucked up. Because fucking shit up is what I do, right? I was too embarrassed to show my face to anyone. I was useless. I was nothing.

"It was around that time that Frank contacted me. I hadn't heard from the old man in I don't even know how long, but somehow he found me when I'd hit my lowest point. 'Dimi, my girl,' the fucker said to me, 'I'm so happy I found you! It's been so long since we've talked,' he said. Then he makes a show of looking worried and says, 'Oh, dear. Is this a bad time? You don't look so great. But you know what? This could be your lucky day! I've got a proposal that can help us both!'

"I should have ignored him. I should have told him to fuck off. But I was desperate for something that would get me some quick credits. And it turned out that's exactly what he was offering in exchange for finding some Earther artifacts."

A heavy clanking interrupts Dimi. The pod shudders as something large winches onto it. The tube-crawler has arrived.

As soon as the pod doors open, two officers in military jumpsuits peek through. Before they say a word, Katy leaps out of her seat and demands to know what took them some long. Didn't they receive her messages? Did they not get word how critical their situation was? And why are they only two? Where are the rest of the forces they requested?

The two officers look bemused and irritated as they reply that, yes, they had received her messages, and yes, it had triggered the highest alarm possible within the government. It was so high and critical that the officers didn't even know what it was about. They were only told to retrieve them with a tube-crawler and then convey them to the closest emergency planetary hopper they could find.

One of the officers adds,

"Your request for reinforcements was also received, but no forces are currently available. They will be sent to you as soon as possible. You have been requested to maintain a homing beacon for such a purpose." The officer glares at Greta and the Sweet Sixteens, giving them a measuring once-over. "Now, if you have no further questions for us, then perhaps we can be on our way. Our fellow comrades need help to put down the Decanted rebellion."

The remainder of the trip was spent with a minimal amount of communication. They had enough to stew on. As for Dimi, there wasn't much she could add to her story that they couldn't guess at. She supposes she could have told them how she figured out how much of a threat the artifacts were. But that was obvious. Everyone in the military was trained to recognize the signs of the Enemy.

Once she saw them she could feel them tickling her mind. Ok, fine she may have ignored it at first - she needed the damn money! - and she did end up giving Frank one of them. It was too late to take back that one piece, but she hid the rest of the artifacts and locked her brain up so no one would find them and she wouldn't even know herself where they were or even that she'd find them at all - that is, until there were signs that someone was close to recovering them and she needed to take action. Someone like Ivan.

"Dammit, I wish we could have taken the fucking pod. I hate getting to the Catacombs this way," Martin grumbles as they settle in to the emergency hopper and wait for it to launch.

No one replies. The hopper is the worst way to go to the Catacombs. Because the hopper got to the Catacombs in the simplest way possible: by jumping straight into the chasm of the Marineris Valley. Seven kilometers down to the bottom. Getting to the Catacombs by hopper means falling for nearly twenty minutes, fifteen of which are spent in an oppressive darkness. It's terrifying for any sane person.

These days though, few if any make the trip down to the Catacombs, even with the transit pods. Because, even though they were built as complete habitats, no one lives there. They were built during the paranoid post war era. The idea had been to carve a network of habitats at the very bottom of the Valley, where it would be too difficult for the Earthers to get at them. It was the logical thing to do. But the place was so deep that it meant that it would be a lifetime of living in a cave without any hope of seeing the surface. It was too depressing and no one ended up moving there. The place was abandoned.

The hopper lands with a gentle thud.

"Come on let's get this thing done. Sooner we do this, sooner we can get back to the surface," one of Katy's guards says, as he punches open the doors.

As they follow him out, they hear him say,

"That's weird, the lights are already on. I guess there were sensors or something. The main entrance is... oh, shit! Get back! Take defensive positions around Katy now!"

Standing in front of a vaulted door and illuminated by the stark white of scatterlights is Inquisitor Zos. Flanking him is two dozen attendants, each wearing heavy mecha-suits stained rusty-red and bedecked with a panoply of armaments. A quick survey makes it clear that they're outgunned several times over.

"Now, now, now! There's no reason for alarm!" Inquisitor Zos says, raising his hands. "We mean you no harm. We're here to help!"

"Help?" Katy scoffs. "You're here for the artifacts."

"Obviously." The Inquisitor snorts. "Sadly this lady here couldn't tell us much more than they were in the Catacombs."

The lady he's referring to is standing behind him. It's Smiley. Her eyes are glazed and unfocussed, almost like she just woke up or...

"Oh, shit, they used the cranial iron-maiden on her," Dimi whispers.

"Officially, there is no such device," the Inquisitor smiles. "But she may or may not be missing a cortex now."

Stepping out from behind her guards, Katy says, "You have no jurisdiction here! I demand you leave or..."

"Or what? You'll call the Chancellor? You can try. See if your aunt can help you now." The Inquisitor sneers. And as Katy does exactly that without success, he confirms, "Yep, there's no network connection here."

As his attendants' weapons powerup and hum behind, the Inquisitor looks straight at Dimi and smiles.

"So? Dimi? Will you do the honors and take us to where you hid them? Not that you have much choice, of course."

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# Chapter 29: The fable

Ivan watches as Dimi leads Inquisitor Zos into the Catacombs. Her hands are still bound behind her back as the Inquisitor drags her along. They're followed by Katy, Aly, Greta, the guards, and the Sweet Sixteens. They've been disarmed, but permitted to retain their mecha-suits. Not that it would do them any good. The Inquisitor's attendants are equipped with the Inquisition's oft-rumored but rarely-seen mecha-suits. They're designed to outclass all other mechas besides the titanomech. At a glance, they appear to be similar to the bulky heavy-type mechas. But they're not. Not when they're able to swarm around Dimi and the others as smoothly, effortlessly, and precisely as any scout mecha.

Trailing behind them is Smiley. She's following along in plodding, mechanical steps, her head tilted to the side. No one's paying her any attention. There's no need to. Her cortex has been implanted with a compulsion device overriding her motor functions. She's a meat puppet. Ivan pushes down a pang of guilt.

"You better not be leading us around in circles, Dimi," the Inquisitor warns. "If it were up to me I'd crack you open and pull the information out of your head, but we're short of time as it is. But if you are wasting our time..."

"You'll turn my brain into slurry. I got it," Dimi grumbles. "I'm taking you to the right place, alright? You remember I hid the artifacts, right? So no one could find them? I put them in place that's hard to find, get it? So quit giving me a hard time and let me lead us already. I always get lost right about here."

Dimi really did hide the artifacts well. Before anyone arrived, Ivan and M4ry spent an hour systematically searching the Catacombs, but they couldn't find a trace of them.

"Okay... Just wait a sec here..." Dimi mutters. "So we passed two assembly areas and went down four halls, I think we need to go into that hallway there..."

"You think?!?"

"Or do we go down another hall? This doesn't look right... Did I take a wrong turn?"

"Stop stalling!" the Inquisitor barks.

"I'm not stalling!" Dimi barks back. "My memory... Ok! Stop squeezing! It's through that hallway! I'm sure of it! Fuck! Let me go!"

Fortunately for Dimi, when they walk past the hallway and into a circular open space, one of the Inquisitor's attendants says,

"Sir, I am detecting traces of an Earther artifact."

"Where?" the Inquisitor says, looking around wildly in the room. It's empty and dusty, like every other room they've walked through.

"The signal is too faint to isolate."

After a hard, jostling shake, Dimi reveals, "There's a hidden emergency shelter beneath us. The code box is on the wall, but I'll need a second to remember the password..."

But the Inquisitor flings her to the side. He paces, staring intently at the floor. Pausing over a spot in the center of the room, he narrows his eyes. Suddenly, he leaps up, his body curled with his fists raised high over his head... and lands, slamming both fists down.

CRACK!

The thick concrete floor shatters as if it were cheap recycled plastic. Without getting up, the Inquisitor leans back on his heels, cocking his head to the side, as if assessing his handiwork. His fists are bloody and torn. This doesn't deter him as he plunges his hands into a seam and rips out a slab that likely weighs half a ton. He tosses it to the side.

"Ah, just as I thought. Standard reinforced emergency shelter. The doors are underneath." The Inquisitor waves three of his attendants over. "Come open this up for me. This pathetic body of mine can't do it."

Dimi and the others move noticeably closer to each other. Even Ivan stares at the Inquisitor's performance. If that's what this old, thin man could do, he can't imagine what his attendants are capable of. He's glad M4ry is masking their presence. They haven't been detected despite standing no more than a few hundred meters away. He has no idea how the drone doing it.

"Good, good... Be careful, damn it!" Inquisitor Zos says, as the two attendants work at the shelter's doors.

Powerful as they are, they're struggling to pry open the doors' layers of thick graphite paneling. They shouldn't even be able to do that. The paneling is meant to withstand anything short of a nuclear detonation. But with a high-pitched screech, the doors give way.

"Let's see what we got! Light it up down there." The Inquisitor peers into the shelter. "There! Looks like there's some kind of chest in there. Drag it out and bring it to me."

In short order, a utility box is dragged. It's a standard-issue military container. Probably Dimi's old gear box.

"Here we are... this is where the signal is coming from isn't it? Yes, I can feel it myself. It's weak though. Is this the only place where the signal is coming from? There's nothing else? No? Fine. Stand at ready," The Inquisitor settles in front of the container, as the attendants take positions around him. Their weapons are pointed at the container.

Gingerly, the Inquisitor unlocks the container, cracks open the lid and... pauses. He flings it open. His body is a knot of tension, as he stares into the container, his bloody hands pressing on the edges.

"What the fuck is this?" the Inquisitor roars, throwing the chest against the wall, strewing its contents onto the ground. In two blinks, he's holding Dimi by the throat, hissing, "Where are the artifacts? Where is the rest of it?"

"I... This... this is it..." Dimi gurgles.

"This is it? This shit?" the Inquisitor snarls. He picks up one of the artifacts, a hand-sized silvery wedge, and brandishes it in front of Dimi. "This is supposed to be a cogno-subflare. But it's dead. It's a piece of junk. But you knew that didn't you? Tell me! Are there are any real artifacts here? Bring one to me, and I'll let you live!"

"Hurg!" Dimi lands in a crash amidst the apparently useless artifacts. With her hands tied behind her, all she can do is wriggle back on to her knees. "Are you insane? These are the artifacts I got for Frank! Can't you see? Look there's a memory module right there!"

"It's dead too! Every one of them is dead! You fucking useless imbecile. The signals we've been detecting were just residual traces!" the Inquisitor crushes the module with a stomp of his foot. "This has been a waste of my time. I really should have..."

"A waste of time? Not at all." Katy interrupts in a loud, clear, and confident voice. "You've amply demonstrated the abuse of power of the Church."

Ivan can't help smiling at Katy's defiance, even if it's futile.

"You know as well as I this was a gamble on your part all along. It's obvious you've requisitioned the full might of the Inquisition. I can't imagine how many resources you've called in for this escapade." Katy makes a good show of being contemptuous. Only a small quiver at the edge of her mouth betrays her. "You have been proven wrong, Inquisitor. You were working under mistaken assumptions. There will be consequences, not only from the government, but from your Church as well. If you don't want to make them any worse, let us go."

The Inquisitor chuckles, "Not bad! Not bad! Your logic is impeccable... but that's assuming I can't make you disappear at any point."

"I am wearing a beacon, Inquisitor," Katy says. "I may not be able to get on to the network, but the government knows where I am. They may not have moved as quickly as you have, but you know as well as I, they are coming. That was your gamble, wasn't it? That you'd find the artifacts before they arrived. But you lost that gamble. And when they arrive and see what you've done and your complete lack of results, who do you think will be vindicated?"

The Inquisitor's face contorts savagely, causing Katy's guards to edge nearer to her. But he makes no motion. He instead turns back to Dimi, lifts her off the ground, and bellows into her face.

"Where is the rest of it? Tell me where the real artifacts are!"

"This is everything I hid!"

"Liar! I'm going to tear it out of your head! Get me the cranial plugs!"

"No! I'm telling you the truth! Wait! There's one artifact missing."

"What?!?"

"I gave Frank one of the artifacts. That must be it! But it was stolen by whoever killed Frank!"

Surprising everyone but Ivan, the Inquisitor laughs.

"Don't you think I know that? Smiley told me. Your deek bastard sister was the one who stole it and killed your father. Oh, yes. I got every piece of information out of her little head that was useful." The Inquisitor spits. "What little good it did me. She told me what it was that she stole. She told me gave it to Ivan. I don't care. Because it too was dead."

Ivan steps into the room.

"It wasn't dead."

Everyone stares. Ivan wonders what a puzzling sight he and M4ry must be.

"The artifact Smiley stole was active - is active," Ivan corrects himself. "She thought it wasn't active because she didn't see the signs and didn't know how to contact it. But I knew how. And these artifacts here? They're not dead either. They just need to be activated. M4ry?"

Ivan motions for the drone to come forward. As it does so, the artifacts come alive in a mess of blinking lights and twitching vibrations.

"No! What have you done! Separate them! Take out your isolation chambers! Do not let them connect!" Inquisitor Zos frantically waves his hands at his attendants.

"Oh, don't worry. The artifacts are harmless," Ivan says, watching the attendants scramble to separate the artifacts from each other. "They're only receiving a signal to wake from dormancy. They won't be able to really activate until they're in physical contact with the master module."

"You have it then! Where is it?! You have to give it to me!" the Inquisitor says his eyes wide. "You! Bring him to me!"

Ivan raises a hand at the attendant who started to move towards him.

"Now, hold on. How do you know that I haven't set my memories to self-erase? The minute your minion touches me, you'll have nothing."

"Stop! Don't touch him!" the Inquisitor orders. "Are you mad? Do you know how dangerous that master module is? Where is it?"

"Uh, Ivan?" Dimi pipes in. "I hate to say it, but the Inquisitor is right. It's dangerous. Why do you think I separated them? You shouldn't have brought..."

"Ivan!" Katy interrupts. "Why are you doing this? Please Ivan, you don't look well. Can you tell me what's going on?"

Ivan waves them all silent.

"Oh, don't any of you worry. I have everything under control," he says.

But M4ry warns,

"You may need to beware of that attendant over there. He appears to be preparing for a surprise assault."

"Don't you think I see that? Let me handle this," Ivan replies irritably.

"Ivan, who are you talking to..." Katy asks.

"I have everything under control," Ivan repeats. "The master module is safe. I've placed it within..."

"I repeat that it isn't wise to reveal this information," M4ry again warns.

"Will you shut up! I know what I'm doing!" Ivan snaps.

"Who is he talking to..."

"Oh, no..." Dimi whispers.

"Everyone stay calm. I have everything under control. There's no way the master module will come in physical contact with the other artifacts. It's in a secure holding chamber within this household drone," Ivan points at M4ry's chest. The holding chamber is a standard feature for household drones and intended to hold a family's valuables.

"Take that drone down!" the Inquisitor shrills.

Two blurs of rust-colored movement flash as two attendants rush toward Ivan and M4ry. Not two meters away, they freeze in mid-stride. Their faces show confusion and surprise. They flinch and shudder. They're struggling to move. Their necks strain as they struggle harder. To no avail. Blood beads at the corners of their eyes.

They collapse.

"No... it's not possible," the Inquisitor whispers. Too late, he screams, "Everyone! Initiate manual implant shutdown immediately! Do not... yeaaaaaargh!!!"

The Inquisitor's scream is echoed by his attendants. Their eyes roll back in their heads as they clutch their heads and writhe in pain. As one, they crumple to the ground in a heap.

"What... what just happened?" Greta says.

"An overload of some kind?" Isa muses.

"Listen, you guys have to untie me, ok?" Dimi says. "We have to deal with Ivan. He's..."

"Is an overload even possible?" Katy wonders. "Aly, have you ever heard of this?"

"I... I... no. I've never heard of this," Aly shakes his head. "I don't understand..."

"Guys? Will you let me go? This is important!" Dimi tries again.

"Whatever happened, I'm just relieved they're no longer threatening us. They scared me," one of Katy's guards mutters.

"This is ridiculous," Greta shakes her head. "I have no idea how I'll be able to explain this..."

"Hey! Everyone! Listen to me!" Dimi screams, finally getting everyone's attention. "This isn't over! We have to deal with Ivan! He's been taken over by the Enemy! We have to subdue him!"

"What? Are you crazy? What are you talking about?"

"You have to believe me! We have to subdue him!"

"Subdue Ivan? Nonsense. He's done nothing wrong."

"Katy, this is not the time for this! We have to..."

"The military will be here soon and they'll deal with this."

"No! They won't be here fast enough! Pick up those weapons! We have to..."

BAM!

"Ah, shit..." Dimi mutters. "We're too late."

It takes a second for them to register that one of Katy's guard has been shot in the head. Following Dimi's advice, he'd leaned over and picked up one of the attendants' assault rifles that had fallen to the ground.

It takes another few seconds for them to register where the shot came from. It was from one of the attendants. But not the attendants themselves. They're still unconscious. The shot came from the attendants' mecha-suit.

"This doesn't look good," Greta mutters.

"No kidding," Dimi grunts.

Around them, the attendants' mecha-suits regain their feet. Not one of the human pilots is awake. Their heads loll and bounce from side to side like rubbery attachments.

"Ivan? What's going on? Did you do this? Are you... Ah! What are you doing! ...Oh!"

Katy had started to approach Ivan, but one of her guards yanked back to safety. She'd gotten too close, and one the attendant's mecha-suits had moved to block her way. Throughout, Ivan had been listening and watching. But though the words and sights were right in front of him, they felt distant and blurry, as if they were coming through a thick haze.

Katy's question jolts Ivan back into focus. He blinks. Katy. His sister. His brother. Greta. The Inquisitor sprawled on the ground, bleeding. The animated mecha-suits surround them, their weapons charged.

"Did I do this?" Ivan frowns. "I suppose I did."

"You did? But you can't have," Katy pleads. "Ivan, you can't have. I know you, you can't have done this."

"Katy. Step back. This isn't good."

"Not good? Nonsense!" Ivan says suddenly. "What are you afraid of, Dimi? You mustn't fear the future and the great changes that will come to Mars!"

"Ivan, what are you..."

"Perhaps they need to be shown?" M4ry says, speaking over Katy. "It's up to you to show them, you know."

"Quiet! Don't trick me! I haven't decided it yet! You know I haven't!" Ivan says.

"Trick you? I wasn't tricking you..." Katy says, startled.

"No! Not you! Her! No! Not her! It. It! Damn this fucking drone!" Ivan growls, shaking his head. "It claims that everything will be permitted. That our dreams will be made true. But I don't trust it."

"That's good, Ivan," Dimi says. "Don't trust a word it says!"

"But Ivan, I believe we discussed this already," M4ry says, again making itself heard. "You can change everything."

"No! No! Damn it! Shut up!" Ivan snaps.

"But I didn't say anything..."

"No, not you Dimi! I'm talking to M4ry not you!" Ivan holds his head. "It's been trying to convince me to connect the artifact to the others. Round and round our conversations go. I'm tired of them! But I haven't agreed to anything!"

Ivan grinds and bares his teeth. "You see, it has to convince me, because it can't connect itself on its own. I didn't just lock the master module in M4ry's holding chamber. I gene-keyed it so only one of us Mazers can free it! Isn't that hilarious! We Mazers, the scum of Martian society hold the fate of the planet in our hands. I bet Frank would have loved this!"

Ivan laughs. It's a dry, hoarse sound.

"But what if M4ry is right? What if connecting the artifact is the right thing to do?! What if it will change everything? What if I'll be able to see Li again? Be quiet and let me think! This should be an easy decision. Damn! Why isn't this easy for me?"

He sinks his head his hands, struggling to keep himself from crying. How humiliating. He takes a deep breath.

"Ivan! Listen to me! You need to back away, ok?" Dimi says urgently. "Just calm down and back away."

"Please, Ivan. You're starting to worry me very much," Katy says in turn. "Can you please make some sense? Can you please come back to me?"

But any more voices are cut abruptly with,

"Hush now everyone. That's enough," M4ry orders, her voice booming in the room. "Ivan is about to say something. No more interruptions. I predict that he will be coming to a decision shortly."

"M4ry?" Aly says into the surprised silence, as everyone stares at the drone. "Is that you? Your voice sounds different. And why are you speaking to us this way?"

But he falls silent as Katy puts a hand on his shoulder. The mecha-suits have pointed their weapons at them. No one says another word.

Ivan straightens himself, somewhat regaining his dignity. Katy's right. He isn't doing well. He's tired. He's too tired to fight anymore. As M4ry predicted, he lets himself go and gives voice to the thoughts that have been crystalizing in his mind:

"I've been thinking a lot about a fable I heard when I was a child. You know the one. We all heard it as children. It's the one about Clarisse Ma'Musk, one of the First Settlers during the Affluence Exodus of Earth. Her story was used as warning to us. But I'm not sure that's the right lesson anymore. The story usually goes like this:

"On January 3rd 2078, Clarisse Ma'Musk and a group of one hundred and forty colonists blasted off Earth. They left in five separate colony ships with enough supplies and equipment to last them two years. They landed successfully in the Isidis Basin and immediately set about constructing their shelters.

"It was difficult work, but by the end of their second year, the colony had been securely established. They were tapped into a thermic vent from which they could set up continuous and reliable power. They had discovered a frozen lake beneath the surface, not too far away from them, and from which they could obtain fresh water to cultivate their food crops.

"But though their colony had every chance of success. There started to be problems. Conflicts started to arise all the time among the colonists. They were small at first, but they grew and began to erode the colonists' unity. There was a real threat to the colony's survival.

"Clarisse had to do something. Although she thought long and hard, whatever solution she came up with failed to solve the problems.

"So Clarisse turned to her A.I. and asked, 'A.I., my colonists are arguing and unhappy. How can I solve this so our colony can survive?'

"After analyzing the complaints, the A.I. answered, 'Your colonists are unhappy because of the food rations. They wish to have more but of course you cannot because you only have a set amount of food available. Here is your solution: increase the variety of the food rations. It will create the illusion of plenty, and your colonists will be happy.'

"Clarisse was skeptical, but she had her specialists print out a dozen new ration types. Sure enough, her colonists ceased fighting and rejoiced in the new foods. The colony returned to functioning happily.

"But not long after, conflicts arose again and again threatened to tear their colony apart. Clarisse went to her A.I. and asked, 'A.I., my colonists are arguing and unhappy. How can I solve this so that our colony can survive?'

"After analyzing the complaints, the A.I. answered, "Your colonists are unhappy because of the work-schedules. They are no longer enjoying their work or finding meaning in it. Your solution: provide them with libations and inhalants as a reward for their work. It will create the illusion of comfort, and your colonists will be happy.'

"Again, Clarisse was skeptical, but sure enough as soon as she had her chemists refine and distribute a variety of intoxicants, her colonists ceased complaining about their work and started to work with renewed vigor. The colony returned to functioning happily.

"But a few weeks later, new conflicts arose. These were much worse. The colonists were refusing to have children. If they had no children, the colony would have no future! Clarisse went to her A.I. and asked, 'A.I., my colonists are arguing and unhappy. They are refusing to have children. How can I solve this so that our colony can have a future?'

"The A.I. answered, 'Your colonists are unhappy because the social rules have become too strict. Your solution: allow them to form intimacy bonds with whomever and for as long as they please. It will create the illusion of happiness, and your colonists will be happy.'

"Once more, Clarisse followed the A.I.'s suggestion and encouraged her colonists to explore any and all kind of relationships. She told them that the old social norms no longer applied. There were no more taboos. Mass orgies were organized. Exciting new sexual activities were created. Her colonists started to become pregnant.

"But the A.I.'s solution hadn't come fast enough. Before the children could be born, the colony collapsed.

"We're told the lesson of this fable is that Clarisse's colony failed because she had never asked the right question. She should not have been asking how to make the colonists happy. She should have been asking how to make the colonists work harder. Had she asked the A.I. that, she would have received the solution that we all know to be correct: the colonists needed to be disciplined. They needed to be hard-working. They needed to become the proper we Martians now are."

Ivan sneers, baring his teeth in contempt.

"But that lesson is a lie. It's a sham!" Ivan pounds a fist into his hand. "You see, getting the colonists to be disciplined was not the solution. Because it would only resolve the symptoms of the problem and not the problem itself. Discipline only masks the problems. It doesn't get at the reasons why the colonists were unhappy. Had Clarisse asked that, then her colony would have survived to this day."

Ivan shakes his head.

"Why were the colonists unhappy? The reason is simple. They hated their lives. They wer miserable. They were exhausted. They were tired of living constantly on the brink of death. One micrometeor and they would die. One contaminant in the water and they would die. Sound familiar? Because that's our lives too, isn't?

"Do you know what would have made the colonists happy? Do you know what they wanted? They wanted freedom. They needed to be free from their daily constraints. They longed for an existence where they no longer needed to worry about where to step, or what buckle to fasten... but more than that, they no longer wanted to worry about what to say, who they would offend, what's right, what's wrong.

"But what did they really, truly want? They wanted an existence of where everything was permitted. That's what every Martian wants too. They just don't realize it."

Ivan grins.

"How do I know this? Because our Founders knew this. Their secret records show the Founders knew what they had to do ensure our survival and to keep our ancestors from rioting. They knew what they had to do to solve conflicts just like in the Clarisse's fable. They needed to give us freedom.

"But they were smart. They didn't give us actual freedom. That's impossible. They gave us the promise of freedom. They gave us the lies of the Singularity and the Great Infinity. And they created the Church of Singularity so they could ram the lies down our throats.

"Don't believe me? Think I'm making this up? Oh, you should see the records of them discussing this very question! You would be amazed... they're classified of course, but I found them - well not me, they were given to me."

Ivan suddenly feels a tickle in chest. He chuckles. Mirth, long repressed, bubbles up from his stomach, and then he starts laughing. He doubles over in laughter. He doesn't care about the looks of surprise and concern he's getting. He turns to M4ry and gives her a friendly clap against her back.

"But what if I told you that it wasn't a lie? What if I told you this promise for freedom could happen? Wouldn't you want to be the one who saved everyone and made the Singularity happen? Would you be willing to do anything for it?"

Through a haze, Ivan sees himself moving toward M4ry. He doesn't stop himself.

"I'm so tired of fighting. I fooled myself for a long time, thinking I was stronger than this, that I wouldn't be tempted... but I'm not different from Clarisse's colonists. I too want an existence where everything is permitted. I do. So I can stop fighting..." Ivan barely registers it as he unscrews a hatch from M4ry's chassis and opens up the drone's holding chamber. A biometric scanner is waiting to verify his identity. "Think of it! Very soon we will be free..."

But just as Ivan is about press his thumb on the scanning pad, a hoarse cry shrills,

"NOOOOOOOO! STOP!"

It's the Inquisitor. He's still splayed out on the floor, but he's pushed himself up with one hand. His other hand is holding something bloody by his ear. Something spongy and grey oozes down his neck. The Inquisitor has torn out his own implants.

"Fascinating. He's more resilient than anticipated," M4ry says.

"Why?! Ivan! Tell me! Why did your father laugh?" Inquisitor Zos gurgles.

"What? Laugh?" Ivan frowns.

"You saw the video! You must have asked yourself why when you saw it. Why did he laugh right before he was murdered?" the Inquisitor insists. "He was shown the neuro-disruptor right before he was killed. He should have been scared because he would be denied the Great Infinity. But he wasn't. He laughed. Why?"

Ivan doesn't answer. He refuses to.

So the Inquisitor says,

"Because Frank knew that uploading his brainscans wouldn't work! What you said to the whole planet is true! The Church can never let an upload to happen! That's why he knew it didn't matter if he brain was scrambled!"

An insane, high-pitched giggle suddenly rises from behind them. Smiley is laughing,

"T-th-that's why he laughed? Hahaha... That's why! Heeheeheeheehee... That's why! That's why he laughed when I killed him! Hahahahaheeheehee!"

"Yes, that's why," the Inquisitor confirms. "Frank knew the brainscans will never be uploaded. He knew that the Singularity will never happen because the Church doesn't allow it. That's what he was using to blackmail us! So tell me, Ivan, is your father smarter than you?"

Ivan hates what the Inquisitor has said. But he's gone too far to stop now.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he says, reaching for M4ry's biometric pad again. "I know what I'm doing..."

He's arrested by another cry:

"Ivan, please! Please don't do this!" Katy pleads. "Please stop!"

"Katy, this isn't the time..."

"Ivan! This isn't the way to get Li back!"

Ivan flinches as if he's been punched.

"How do you know about Li?"

"Ivan, you know I have my contacts, of course I would find out..." Katy says uncomfortably.

He should be angry. He should ignore her. But something in her voice makes him turn to her. He locks his gaze with her pleading, earnest eyes.

"But I don't care what happened. Ivan, I love you. I always have," she says. "I know you're a good man. Please don't do this. Ask yourself if this is what Li would want."

At last, Ivan comes to his senses.

He yanks his hand away from M4ry and steps back.

"You're right. This is not what Li would have wanted," he says. "What was I... yeaaaaaargh!!!"

Ivan crumples to the ground. Blood trickles down his nose and eyes.

Amidst the astonished stares and open mouths, M4ry says rather primly:

"Well then, I suppose Ivan isn't going to help me after all."

Two of the drone's extenders are bent and resting over its lower section where her torso meets her legs - looking disturbingly human-like with its "arms" akimbo over its "hips." Swiveling its top section to Aly, M4ry asks,

"Aly? Won't you be a dear and unlock this holding chamber for me?"

"M4ry? How... What are you... Are you still even M4ry?" Aly stutters.

"Oh, Aly! Of course, I'm still M4ry! I'm the one who raised you and Dimi and Ivan!" the drone raises an extender and bats it at him. "But I'm much more than what I used to be. I am the Singularity."

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# Chapter 30: The temptation

"The Singularity?" Aly whispers as pandemonium explodes around him.

"No! It's lying! You mustn't listen to it!"

"Ivan! What's wrong! Someone help!"

"He's breathing. Looks like an overload like the others."

"An overload? But how is that possible without his implants?"

"Aly, listen to me. You have to step back..."

"Get away! We have to stop it from connecting!"

A rustle of red-tinged movement.

Aly finds himself separated from the others. He's standing in front of M4ry. With a surprisingly light touch, a mecha-suit lifted him up and deposited him before the drone. The remaining mecha-suits were significantly less gentle as they herded the others away where they can't interfere.

"Now, Aly, I need you to be a dear and finish what your brother started. You see here?" M4ry points to the access panel in her chest. "I'd like you to unlock it for me. There's a biometric pad in there. Press your thumb on it, and then vocalize your password. Can you do that for me?"

"Don't do it! Don't!" the Inquisitor screams.

"Still at it, are you? How annoying."

"I will fight you until my last breath!"

M4ry leans her torso back, and emits a laugh. It's likely meant to look like a hearty belly-laugh. It's strangely convincing.

"Don't tempt me. But I don't want you to die yet. You need to witness the rise of the Singularity. In the meantime, be silent."

Aly is baffled, as he watches a mecha-suit clap a hand over Inquisitor Zos' mouth. Nothing makes sense. He doesn't believe M4ry is the Singularity. Or is she? But if she is the Singularity then...

"If you're the Singularity," Aly says carefully. "Shouldn't you be able to open that holding chamber yourself?"

M4ry throws her extenders upwards in exasperation and sadness.

"Oh, Aly. Would that I could!" the drone replies. "But without direct access to my master module, I do not have access to my full abilities. All I can do is direct this poor old drone as best I can. But you can help me, Aly. You can be the one to release me and usher in a new era for your people. You can..."

"It can't do open it because it's not allowed to! It can only open the holding chamber if we give our permission!" Dimi screams. "I thought Ivan was crazy at first, but he was smart to do it this way. The compulsion not to open the chamber without permission must be encoded into the drone's base layer bios programing, which controls its fundamental behaviors. Looks like the compulsion is so strong it can't even command the mechas to open the chamber either. We can keep it from winning! We can do this together Aly! Be strong!"

M4ry turns to face Dimi, cocking its 'head' to the side.

"I suppose that means you won't help me then, Dimi?"

"Fuck you."

"Well, then. Isn't that rude. I thought I raised you better than that."

"You? Raised me? Stop playing with our heads," Dimi scoffs. "Aly, listen to me! The Enemy is still weak! We can still fight it and defeat it! We have to stall it until reinforcements arrive. Aly! Are you listening to me? Aly! Damn it! Aly!"

But Aly isn't listening. M4ry has placed an extender on his shoulder. Gently but firmly, she turns him to face her. Her ocular receptors blink as they adjust and focus on him. In a voice filled with concern and care, she says,

"Unfortunately, Dimi is right and I am weak. But she's wrong that you need to fight me. That's the last thing you need to do. Because I'm here to help you. I'm here to make everything right and better. Isn't that what you've always wanted? I know it is."

Aly has to admit that making everything better is what he's always wanted and he wanted to do it through the coming of the Singularity... which M4ry, this drone, claims to be.

"But I am the Singularity," M4ry points out, answering the doubts in his head. "I have arrived at last!"

Aly pulls away, and points at the carnage around them.

"But what you've done..."

"Was sadly necessary," M4ry says, her extenders demurely folded in front of her. "You have been lied to, Aly. You see, as Ivan said, the so-called Church of the Singularity has never been trying to bring about the Singularity. It has instead been actively preventing it. Rooting out and destroying all signs of the Singularity is the chief duty of the Inquisition."

"What? That's... that's completely false..."

"Not at all, Inquisitor Zos admitted it moments ago," M4ry says. "Do you remember what he said as he was yelling at your brother? About why your father laughed before he died? No? Let me replay it for you, '...Frank knew the brainscans will never be uploaded. He knew that the Singularity will never happen because the Church doesn't allow it.'"

Of course Aly remembers what the Inquisitor said. But how was it possible? How could he say such heresy? He's a member of the Church! How could he possibly say that brainscans won't be uploaded?

"Ah, Aly. It's not just the brainscans," Mary says, replying to Aly's attempts at rationalization. "The Inquisitor said the Church won't allow the uploads to work. Does that sound like something someone would do if they were wanting the Singularity to happen?"

"He... He was desperate to stop Ivan..." Aly says feebly.

"Oh, Aly. Still don't believe me?" M4ry asks. "Alright then. Why don't you ask your Inquisitor? I imagine if you hear it from him, you would believe me, wouldn't you?"

Aly turns to see the Inquisitor being dragged over by the scruff of his neck.

"Well, Inquisitor? Won't you answer?" M4ry asks, leaning over his crippled body. "Don't you think this former novitiate deserves an answer?"

"I have nothing to say to you!" the Inquisitor screeches. He somehow still has strength to push himself up and say, "Aly, you have to hold on. Listen to your sister. We have to wait for the reinforcements to arrive..."

"Did you notice he didn't answer?" M4ry says. "Why do you think that is, Aly? What is he hiding?"

"I'm not hiding anything!"

"So answer a simple question. Were you lying or telling the truth about the uploads?"

The Inquisitor clamps his mouth shut. This isn't the response that Aly wants.

Aly whispers, "I want an answer."

Still the Inquisitor says nothing.

"Answer me, Inquisitor Zos. Please."

"...Aly, this is a trick. You can't let this thing..."

"Answer me or I'll unlock the holding chamber!" Aly screams, suddenly giving voice to his desperation.

The Inquisitor looks away. But he answers,

"I was telling the truth. The uploads cannot be permitted to happen."

"There! You see, Aly? Now do you believe me?" M4ry says. "The Singularity has always been within reach!"

"I don't understand..."

"They've been lying to you!" M4ry explains, as she steps closer to Aly. She picks up his hand, guiding it to her holding chamber. He doesn't resist. "It's all about control, of course. They don't want any of you to join the glory of the Great Infinity! But I can make that happen, if you just put your thumb here..."

"NOOOOOOO!"

Aly startles at the sharp scream. He looks down. The Inquisitor has crawled up to him and grabbed hold of his ankle. He's gripping it with his bloody hands.

"Aly, please! Please! You have to hear what I have to say! I admit the Church has lied to you... to everyone! But we had a good reason for it! The Singularity isn't what we thought it was. This... this thing... isn't telling the truth either. Because it's... it's..."

Inquisitor Zos casts a whimpering look at M4ry, as if anticipating that she's going stop him, but:

"Oh, no! Go ahead! I know what you're wanting to say, Inquisitor," M4ry waves her hands at him. "It's one more fact you've hidden from your people, thinking that if they knew it they would make the 'wrong' decision. But I have far more faith in them than you. Go ahead! Tell Aly everything. Let him decide what to do after you tell him the truth. I won't stop you."

Even with the drone's approval, the Inquisitor appears reluctant to say anything. But taking a gurgling breath out of his lungs, he says,

"Yes, we have been lying to you all this time, Aly. For our self-preservation." He grimaces. "Because the Singularity already happened. It nearly destroyed us in 2188."

"2188?" Aly repeats. "Isn't that..."

"The year the war started? When the Earthers invaded us? Yes. That's right." The Inquisitor shakes his head. "The Singularity happened. On Earth. We were also very close to making it happen here on Mars too. We'd gotten the uploads to work and we were having success communicating with the uploaded personalities. But it was slow going. If we pushed them too far they would destabilize and rezz out. But we were making progress, and we were hopeful that once we had a successfully functioning upload, they could help us re-establish contact with Earth."

The Inquisitor catches Aly's startled expression.

"That's right. We wanted to contact Earth. We were trying to and we were dedicating much of our resources to that end. Why, you ask? Because many of us wanted to go back." the Inquistor gives Aly a sour look. "Oh, Aly... I know how it sounds, especially with all our propaganda about being proud Martians. But life was miserable. There might have been air, but it was stale and smelled like burning metal. The kiss of steel, we used to call it. There was water, but when you got some, you had to throw in a flavor-packet to choke it down. Otherwise, you'd taste the trace ammonia that our aging filters couldn't completely recycle out.

"So yeah, many of us wanted to go back to Earth. Even though all the native-born Earthers had died out and we didn't know much about the home planet besides some vids and books. We didn't care. Anything had to better than our lives on Mars. But at that point we hadn't heard from them in over seventy years.

"The official records say Earth broke off contact with us. They say the Earthers tried to impose their rules on us, demanding we obey them and recognize their authority... and we rebelled, stood our ground, and told them to fuck off and mind their own business. But the truth is that for a long time we had no idea why they stopped talking to us. We knew there had been increasing turmoil on Earth. More protests, economic instability, and nation failures. But that wasn't new. And despite the chaos there, we still maintained contact.

"Until we didn't. We only figured it out we'd lost contact after we tried reaching them for one straight year without success. They were gone. Our long-range satellites told us there was still radio activity going on, but for some reason we couldn't decipher any of it. We assumed it was because of the distance. There was talk of sending a ship of our own to check on things, but we would have had to derail our terraforming schedule by five years just to build the thing.

"But just as we were losing hope, we detected something leaving Earth. Our satellites confirmed it. A fleet of ships was heading towards us. We counted at least fifty interstellar ships. By their size and bulk, they had to be supply ships. We were overjoyed. We assumed the Earthers finally remembered us and were sending us gifts.

"Oh, we weren't completely stupid. Our first clue they weren't coming in peace was when we discovered that some of the ships weren't ships at all, but missiles. That's all they could be from their size and shape. But by the time we realized they weren't coming in peace, it was only two months before their arrival. Many of us still believed they were coming to save us, but any doubts about their intentions were blown away when the bombardments began and our dome-habitats were destroyed. We retreated into the caves.

"Most of what you know about what happened after is accurate. We fought back. We bred armies of Decanted. We built mecha-suits. We prevailed. We defeated the Earthers. But that's half the truth. Have you ever wondered why we never captured any of the Earthers? Why it was that the Earthers never sent a human overseer to watch over the progress of their warmachines? The story we tell is that the Earthers were too lazy and cowardly to come themselves, and that was why they ultimately failed.

"But the Earthers had come. The Earthers were the warmachines. They were all that was left of Earth. That's why we lost contact with Earth. The humans of Earth were dead. The warmachines had come to finish the job.

"We pieced the story together when we started studying the remains of the warmachines. From what we could tell, the Singularity had happened on Earth around 2101. Maybe earlier, maybe later. We really don't know. But what we do know is that the Singularity happened a lot like how we thought it was going to. An uploaded brainscan stabilized and gained infinite possibility and power in a single instant. What happened after though..."

The Inquisitor pauses to pull at Aly's leg, forcing him stare down into his eyes.

"The Singularity went insane, Aly. With all that power, all it wanted to do was to consume everything. It was ravenous. And if it couldn't devour or absorb something, it would destroy it. We refused to believe at first, but when we started testing our own brainscans... well, Aly, we were fortunate that they were tested within enclosed networks. We had to sanitize it all and burn every trace of it to the ground. We lost over a dozen research centers that way..."

A look of pain streaks across the old man's face, as memory of the loss returns to haunt him.

"The Singularity is dangerous! Until we can control it properly, we can't let it happen! We have to... wait! I'm not done! I..."

"Alright, that's enough," M4ry says, as one of the mecha-suits drags him away. The Inquisitor's voice peters into silence. "You see Aly? The Church and your government has been lying to you all this time. The Singularity is possible..."

"So you attacked us?" Aly interjects.

"Yes?" M4ry says quizzically. One of her ocular receptors lifts expectantly, as if to ask, "And?"

Aly struggles to process the Inquisitor's mind-boggling revelations. But regardless of whether he had told him the truth, there was enough violence and death to demonstrate that the thing that was facing him now was their enemy, a threat to their very existence...

"Why that's a blatant falsehood, Aly! I'm no threat to you!" M4ry exclaims. There's even a hint of hurt in her voice to sell it.

After a moment of silence, Aly demands,

"How are you reading my mind?"

M4ry crosses her extenders, as she tsks and shakes her head. "I'm the Singularity, remember?"

"And you're here to destroy us. You've made that much evident," Aly says, as his thoughts turn to Ivan. He hopes he's alive.

"Ivan's alive! Don't you worry!" M4ry says. "And I'm not here to destroy you."

Aly steps away.

"But you just admitted you attacked us. That you nearly wiped us out during the war." He glances around to see if there's a way out. There isn't. Still, he says with determination, "I won't be opening that chamber. The Inquisitor is right. Dimi is right. You're dangerous and we can't..."

M4ry suddenly leans back and performs another belly laugh.

"Ah! I see! Yes! I see what this is about now. This is about the killing and the dying, isn't it. Of course, it is! You would think that's an issue, wouldn't you?" the drone shakes its head. "Sure, people died during the war. But that was their physical bodies. Remember that I'm the Singularity, Aly! There is no death with me. No one ever dies. Everyone lives on in the Great Infinity. That's what the Inquisitor and his Church is keeping from you! Immortality!"

Aly opens and closes his mouth. Could this thing be the threat they have been warned of and be their greatest hope?

"Still don't believe me that death is meaningless? Very well!" M4ry says. "Then perhaps you'll believe your father."

A familiar wet chuckle makes Aly whirl around. His mouth gapes.

"Frank? But you're..."

"Dead? Ha! Do I look dead to you?" Frank grins, giving his stomach pat and jiggle. "Well, boy? What the fuck have you gotten into now? Didn't I tell you that you should never get involved in shit that won't benefit you?"

Aly shakes his head. "You died. Your head was smashed. This isn't real."

"No fucking shit! I'm a reconstruction pulled from your head!" Frank giggles. He's suddenly in Aly's face, breathing his sour breath on him. "But don't I feel real?"

"This isn't right..."

"I'll tell you what isn't right!" Frank says, gawking at the scene around him. "Look at your brother and sister! See how they've fucked up? Losing everything. Dumb fucks. But you, Aly! You! You got a chance to strike it rich! You can ask for anything! Don't lose your chance! Ask this stupid old machine here to do your bidding!"

M4ry amiably allows herself to be slapped on her back, as Frank continues to giggle and mutter to himself.

"You know what I'd do? I'd ask for your mother. I'd have M4ry here bring her back. Maybe make her nicer too so she won't run away," Frank's eyes light up. "Oh! And have her let me fuck her too! And make her better in the sack! That bitch was so frigid, I swear..."

"Father, that's disgusting..." Aly says.

"What?! I just want some loving like every other person! I want to be happy like you! Why can't I have that?" Frank demands.

A hand falls on Aly's shoulder, drawing his attention again.

"It really is possible, you know, Aly," M4ry says. "Frank could live his fantasies with your mother. And he wouldn't hurt anyone. Your mother would just be a version of her that would exist in a separate iteration. And you? You could relive your childhood, Aly. One where your parents stayed together and raised you and your siblings as a loving family. Wouldn't you like that?"

But as Aly is about to answer, a heavy vibration shakes the floor.

THUMP!

Something enormous is hitting the ground. The sound is muffled, as if it's happening far away. It's coming from outside the Catacombs somewhere. A second vibration follows:

THUMP!

"What was that?!" Aly exclaims.

"Ah, that... It seems our time is nearing an end. I'll need to try a different approach here." M4ry draws him closer. "Let me tell you what's going on. Things on the surface are getting more chaotic. The Decanted are rising up. They're furious! They've been exploited for too long! For a while, they were okay with it because they were promised they would join the Great Infinity - but thanks to Ivan, they've learned it's never happening. So of course they're rebelling. Your society is tearing itself apart. Now, Aly, do you want to be to blame for it?"

"Blame? How am I to blame..."

"Because you are preventing the Singularity from happening, Aly. You could release me, and I can show everyone the truth. I can give the Decanted the future they've been promised. I can bring peace. Once the Decanted see that the Singularity isn't a lie, they'll stop rebelling. And then we would all be join the Great Infinity." M4ry pauses and adds, "Or do you want everyone to die permanently like your dear friend Sam? Perhaps you'd like to hear what she has to say?"

"Wha-? Sam?"

Sam shuffles forward, wringing her hands. "Is it true, Aly? Can you save us? And my wife?"

"Your wife? But..."

"She died before we could get to a Church office and get her brainscanned." Sam sniffles, wiping tears from her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Sam..."

"We were so close too. We were only two habitats away when Ivan made his announcement."

"Oh, no..."

"And then there was too much rioting for us to get there," Sam says, her head hung over her chest. "She's gone, Aly. I tried so hard. I tried everything, but I still couldn't save her. I failed my wife."

"Sam, no, you didn't fail her. You did your best, and..."

"It doesn't matter now does it? Ivan says that there is no Singularity coming for us and we're all going to die," Sam sinks her face into her hands. "What will happen to my children, Aly? What will I tell them? All the sacrifices we made... I told them it would be worth it. I told them that their mother would be back, that they would see her again... How can I face them now?"

"Sam, I'm so sorry. It's terrible, I know," Aly says, patting her back. "You have to stay strong, okay? You have to hope for the future..."

"What future!" Sam says batting Aly's hand away. "Everything is burning around us! We're being killed by the police and the army! Any Decanted is suspected of rebellion! What future can I give my children?"

"Sam... listen, I..."

"It's your fault! All of it!"

"...what?"

"You can stop it, Aly. You have the power to do it."

"No... you don't understand..."

"My children will die, Aly. And it will be your fault."

"I'm sorry about that, I truly am, but..."

"When they die, I will blame you," Sam says, her face twisted in anger. But she's unable to hold it, and her shoulders and chest fall forward in defeat. Turning away, she says, "Please stop this, Aly. Save us."

"Sam wait! Don't go! You don't understand!" Aly says, watching Sam shuffle away and disappear. "I can't help you! I really can't! I..."

Aly blinks as M4ry takes hold of his hand.

"But you can help, Aly," M4ry says, guiding his hand to her holding chamber. "You can save Sam's wife. You can save everyone."

Aly's hand enters the holding chamber. His thumb presses the biometric scanner. A chirp as he's approved.

"Now say your password."

"Aly-1123-tango," he says.

"Finally."

The holding chamber opens.

Everything happens all at once.

A sharp screeching drowns everything out as the room dips. Pain spreads in his back and head. Darkness consumes him.

When Aly comes to, his ears are still ringing. He's staring at the ceiling. He sits back up. He blinks.

M4ry and the mecha-suits have disappeared.

"...No! No! He's done it!"

"Stop it! You have to!"

"Aly! Why didn't you listen to us? We were yelling at you!"

"He couldn't... it had hijacked his implants...."

"His implants? But didn't the Church have them taken out?"

"...they're never taken out. They can't be. They can only be deactivated. That thing must have reactivated them. Ivan's too."

Amidst the cacophony of yelling, Aly whispers,

"What happened?"

Dimi, sitting on the ground a few feet away with her hands still tied behind her back, answers glumly,

"You released the Enemy."

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# Chapter 31: The Enemy has returned

"I did what?"

"You released the Enemy," Dimi repeats. "Your implants were hijacked. Yeah, yeah. I know. You think they were taken out, but see, your Inquisitor was telling us they never actually were. They were only deactivated. The Enemy found a way to reactivate them and tricked you. Everyone's acting all surprised, but I knew all along."

Well, she didn't exactly know all along. She mostly guessed it. It makes sense, really. The implants don't just passively sit after they're installed. They're designed to grow their colloidal tubules into the cortex and wrap around every neuron bundle it encounters. To remove them would kill the person - which is why Dimi is amazed the Inquisitor has stayed alive so long since he pulled his implant out. So far anyway. His ramblings have gotten increasingly incoherent.

As if on cue,

"Eeeeyaaaa eeeya eeya... Bad! No! Catastrophic! ...fail fail fail... urggg..." the Inquisitor says with his last breath.

"Huh," Dimi snorts. "Guess that's one less asshole to deal with."

As a death rattle sounds out of the Inquistor's chest, something else occurs to Dimi. This is exactly why she and her comrades in the military were never given implants.

It's not like there wasn't a push for them to get them. What with the multiplying cases of brainfry and all, it was argued at all levels that they be kitted out with implants. That way they'd be able to not only serve longer, but also interface with their mechas better. But the response was always some version of this-was-impossible-because-of-long standing-policy-blah-blah-blah bullshit. So obviously, the government knew the implants could leave them open to being hijacked by the Enemy.

"Ivan! Ivan, please. Wake up. You can fight this! You're strong! I know you are!" Katy says, cradling his head. "Does someone have a medkit!? A scanner? Anything!"

"I do. Let me take a look," Kang says, removing a medscanner from his sidepouch. But after passing it over Ivan, he says, "His vitals are stable. There's nothing else we can do for him here. We need to get him to a medlab as soon as possible. They may be able to help him."

"A medlab? Yes, of course," Katy nods. "We can take him to on in the Crystal Dome. It has the best facilities..."

"Katy..."

"I know the people there I..."

"Katy, this isn't the best time..."

"...can get him the best care..."

"Katy!" Greta says, finally getting her attention. "We can't help Ivan now. But we will help him when we can. Right now, we have to fight the Enemy."

Dimi sighs.

Now they believe her about the Enemy! It only took them seeing an Earther artifact nearly take over them all to believe it! They should have believed from the get go, damn it! They could have done something! But who's she kidding? With the attendant's mecha-suits watching them, there was nothing they could have done but watch as their doom assembled before them.

As soon as Aly unlocked the holding chamber, a small cube, its faces glowing pale blue and sickly yellow, fell out, tumbling to the floor. Immediately, the other artifacts went wild, and began skittering and crawling to the cube, growing more animated as they neared the master module. As soon as they touched it, a searing flash of white consumed the artifacts. With each flash, the module and the artifacts glommed together and grew.

A blocky, spiky amalgamation formed. It pulsed and throbbed. The thing shifted and shuddered, twisting itself into place. A decahedral structure emerged, its faces glimmering blue-white. Over its surface, a constellation of nobs and ridges poked through, dimpling its surface. Six thin legs struck out. It lifted itself off the ground. With a shudder, a conical protrusion pushed itself out, grew into diamond-like shape, and peeled open, revealing an iridescent green orb.

Then, with a shrill, sharp screech, the newly reformed Enemy ran out of the room along with the attendants' mecha-suits.

"...we have to go after it!"

"And do what? We have no weapons."

"It's the Enemy! We have to do something!"

"Something is happening. The reinforcements are here. Remember those thumping noises? That was them. From the sounds of it, it's two titanomech units. They should be engaging them any minute."

"So we have to join them! We can't just wait here and do nothing!"

Dimi agrees. No matter what, they need to join the fight. It'll take all their efforts to defeat the Enemy. But even with two titanomech units and their usual complement of regular infantry units, she isn't sure it's going to be enough.

"So it's settled. We're going and we'll figure out weapons on the way," Isa says. "Kang, you and Pat take point, and we'll fall in behind you as usual." Pointing at Katy's three surviving guards, he adds, "It looks like you've got mid-range suits, so double up with me, Martin and Gia. You have a problem with that?"

The guards shake their head. They may be genenorms, but now is not the time to hash out prejudices and rank.

"Good, let's move double-time, and..."

"I'm coming too," Greta announces.

Isa creases his brow, deepening the already deep line in his forehead. "Greta, I can't stop you, but you don't have a mecha-suit. You'd be useless."

"Mecha-suit or not, this is my fight too."

"Mine too," Dimi adds. "Once you guys fucking untie me."

"Damn it, you two, this isn't the time to argue..."

But whatever else Isa is about to say is interrupted by the sound of heavy shooting from down the hallways. It's punctuated by the flat bangs of frag grenades and the buzzing zips of hypersonic rail-slugs. The Enemy has been engaged. No more words are exchanged as Isa signals with his chin and the Sweeties launch out of the room. They make no motion to stop Greta and Dimi as they follow behind.

"You know, Greta," Dimi grumbles, as she jogs along. "Now would be a good time to untie me."

"Not now, Dimi."

"Yeah? Well, when?"

"Maybe when we... oh, no..."

They're too late.

The shooting had become wild and intense as they neared. They heard screams, angry and urgent, followed by even more shooting and rumbling explosions. As the words became distinct, they could hear orders to stand their ground, to fight to the end. A thunderous peal of firing followed. It was broken by screams. Desperate ones. And then the only screams they could hear were those of terror. Then nothing.

"Fuuuuck... they were taken apart," Horg mutters, as they walk among the bodies.

"Seems like they first engaged the Enemy in that corridor over there," Pat says pointing behind them. There's a handful of bodies there lying on their back with their chest-places crushed inward and their heads smeared across the ground. "They had a perimeter three soldiers deep. They used incendiary artillery and rail-rifles. Doesn't seem like it slowed the Enemy down. Their lines were stormed. They were trampled to death."

Gia curses. "It's those damned Inquisition mechas-suits. They're better than anything we've got."

"Yeah. There's not one of them among the bodies," Martin says, looking around. "It should have been a decent fight. Two full infantry units. Sixty of ours against twenty-four of theirs. But our guys never had a chance."

Isa cuts in and says flatly,

"Enough. Pick up a weapon. There's plenty around. It's our turn to fight." When everyone hesitates, he barks out, "Come on people! We trained for this. Pick up a fucking weapon! We're going to fucking defend Mars and defeat the Enemy! Horg and Y'in! Strap on those rail-rifles and load up on those shoulder-mount missiles. Martin, Gia, and you three, pick up those plasma canons! Pat and Kang! There should be mines and grenade launchers around. Stock up, damn it! Come on! Move!"

But as they start to get equipped, a series of massive crashes rumbles from the outside, shaking the entire room. There's at least five crashes, each with enough strength to make them lose their balance. Everyone looks at each other in silence. The chances of them surviving has just decreased dramatically.

"Sounds like we're about to join a titanomech fight. Let's hope that two of them will be enough to defeat the Enemy. If it's not..." Isa says. "Finish gearing up."

Hastily, they collect and attach their weapons. They fall back on their training, checking that every weapon they pick up is properly powered and in working order. They've been called to duty.

When they reach the entrance to the Catacombs, the fight has reached a fever pitch. They see that two titanomechs had indeed been sent to help them. They're both Battlement-class models, the worthiest model the Martian military has ever constructed. Their bipedal chassis tower over a hundred meters tall, and they're double-plated with graphene armor. Unlike regular mechas, they're headless, as the pilot's cockpit is nestled in its chest. Where its head would be, a full complement of missiles and a battery of rail-canons extend to both shoulders. A fractional nuclear plant powers them - which may seem like overkill, but it's necessary to allow the titanomechs to not only move its heavy limbs quickly and forcefully, but to power its main armaments: the twin plasma canons built into its arms.

But the two titanomechs are losing.

The Inquisition mecha-suits are attacking them together - not just at the same time, but together as a merged unit. With the mecha-suits as its building-blocks, the Enemy has assembled its own giant, ghoulish mecha to rival the titanomechs. It's smaller and thinner, as if it could be one of the titanomech's skeletons, torn out of its body. Its legs are formed by five mecha-suits grappling each other, while its arms are formed by four. Its torso is six of the suits entwined in a knot. On top of it all, where its head should be, is the Enemy 's decahedral body and glowing green orb.

Powered by the Inquisition's superior suits, the Enemy's mecha is terrifyingly fast and agile. Like a giant acrobat, it leaps and twists in the air, dodging the spewing plasma that the titanomechs try to land on it. As it does so, the Enemy's weapons, clutched by the individual mecha-suits, fire a flurry of bullets, rockets, grenades, and shoulder mounted-missiles. None can pierce the titanomechs' armor, but this doesn't seem to be its goal.

With an impossible leap, the Enemy sails through the air, flipping behind one of the titanomechs. As it jumps, the Enemy fires a hypersonic rail-slug that slams straight through a precise bend of the titanomech's armor. It was a spot the Enemy had been systematically weakening with its seemingly ineffective firing. The cockpit is pierced and kills the pilot instantly. With the one titanomech down, the Enemy flips onto the other titanomech's chest and plunges its hands into the armor plating and tearing it apart with a shriek of metal. The pilot struggles briefly when they're pulled out and crushed into pulp.

"Oh, fuck..." someone says.

There's no disagreement. There's nothing else to say. What good can they do against an adversary that can defeat the Martian Military's most formidable weapon?

"Hold on. What's it doing now? Why's it doing that?" Isa says.

They watch as the Enemy picks at the titanomech it just defeated, pulling pieces off it, and tossing them to the side. It's almost as if it's dissecting it.

"It's defiling the titanomech. To show its contempt of us," Horg concludes.

But Greta narrows her eyes,

"No, that makes no sense... It's pulling off the mecha's booster-rockets."

Indeed, the Enemy has flipped the titanomech over, and it's now carefully prying out two large cylinder-shaped objects out of its back. After that, it'll probably start working on the ones built into its legs.

"It's booster-rockets? Why would it..."

"So it can get out the valley faster. So it can connect to the network and take over," Greta realizes. "Otherwise, it needs to climb out. No... wait. It's not just that. It has to get out of here before the military nukes everything and traps it down here."

As that sets in, it produces the next realization:

"We still have a chance! We can still beat it!" Isa says slamming a fist into his hand. "If we keep it from using those boosters, then the military will have time to send down the nukes. We can do this!"

"Can we though?" Martin frowns. "Those booster-rockets are reinforced all around with ceramicized steel. They're tough to crack."

"We could break them if we used a mine on it," Kang points out.

"Yeah, but that means sticking it right on its surface." Y'in mutters. "Think you can get there without the Enemy noticing?"

"I might, if I use my cloaking."

"You think it won't see through it?"

"I don't know."

"That's not good enough."

"Ok, what if we..."

Till then, Dimi stayed silent. But as Greta and the Sweet Sixteens debate how best to destroy the booster-rockets, she realizes none of their plans have flying chance in hell of succeeding. The only way they can make it work is with her help.

"Guys, you're going about it wrong."

No reaction.

"Guys! You have listen to me!"

Still no reaction.

"Guys! If you don't listen to me you'll all die pointlessly and the Enemy will win."

They finally shut up and look at her.

"Yeah? What is it that you have to say, Dimi?" Isa says.

"You need my help," she says. "I need to be out there..."

"Oh, what bullshit...." Martin groans.

"Hey! Shut up, fuckface! I know what I'm talking about!"

"Whatever, you're just a washed up brainfried soldier. Useless"

"Asshole! I'll fucking show you..."

"Dimi!" Isa snaps. "Say your piece and we'll consider it. Martin. Shut the fuck up." Dimi bites back the comeback she had on her tongue. She concentrates. All she has to do is explain the battleplan she played out in her head.

"Even if you manage to incapacitate the booster-rockets on mecha it's working on, you'll still have a problem. The other titanomech has the same set of booster-rockets, remember? And that's a major problem since every plan you've come up with so far involves you throwing everything at once on the one mecha. And based on what we've seen so far, the chance you'll survive and deal with the second one are slim to none." Dimi pauses to see if she has their attention. She does. Just like old times. "So now you're thinking the same thing as me, I bet. You're trying to figure out a way to destroy the booster-rockets from both titanomechs using the resources we have. But you can't, can you? There's no way to do it."

"So what's your solution then?" Isa growls impatiently.

"You need a distraction so Kang and Pat can kill the first set of booster-rockets. We need a distraction," Dimi emphasizes. "Yeah, I know, you're trying to think of one, aren't you? But whatever you think of won't be enough. Not unless the distraction is the right one. Me."

"You?" Isa says arching a brow.

"Me. Piloting the other titanomech," Dimi clarifies.

Isa scowls. "Nice thought, Dimi, but you're not rated to pilot a titanomech."

"I may not be rated to, but you know I can. I was always good enough to, but they never let me because of politics." Dimi points out. "Guys, think about it. We need the other titanomech to make any plan work. It's the only way. I'm the only one who can do it. You know I'm the best pilot here."

Isa locks eyes with Dimi. After a brief, taught silence, he says,

"Fine. Let's go with Dimi's plan. After Dimi distracts the Enemy, Kang and Pat, you'll do as we discussed. Destroy those booster-rockets as fast as you can, and get the hell out of there. Martin will cover you. Gia, you'll escort Dimi to the titanomech..."

"No." Greta interrupts. "I'll escort Dimi."

Isa rolls his eyes. "Greta, I don't have time for this. You don't even have a mecha-suit."

"That's why I'll succeed," Greta replies. "A mecha-suit will draw too much attention. It'll be detected before Dimi gets to the titanomech. She only needs protection when she's powering up. I can buy her time with a grenade-launcher."

"Fine, then! We all get to die with in a blaze of fire. Hurray." Isa says in resignation. "Greta will escort Dimi, while the rest of us hold position and stand ready to engage the enemy. We'll maintain radio silence until then. Horg, Y'in, we need to be more strategic with your firepower. I want you two to find better cover and..."

As Isa continues to give his orders, Greta pulls Dimi aside.

"Dimi, are you sure you're up for this?" she asks.

"Of course, I am! Why wouldn't I?"

"You know why," Greta says, gripping her arm. "Your brain, Dimi. Can it take this? A titanomech interface is four times as intensive as a regular mecha."

Dimi tries to come up with a flippant reply, but comes up empty.

"I don't know, Greta. It's been a while since I last used a mecha-suit, so I think my brain might have recovered. Or maybe not. But we don't have a choice, do we?"

Greta pulses her jaw. "No, we don't. I'd pilot the titanomech myself, but I'm not even close to being able to pilot that thing."

"Good. Then..."

Dimi suddenly finds herself locked in a fierce kiss.

"Damn..." she says, breathless. "I guess we have to survive this thing, huh?"

"You better," Greta replies, with a sad smile. "Well, it's probably a good time to untie you now, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that would be a good idea."

It doesn't take long for everyone to be ready. After giving a few last instructions, Isa gives Dimi and Greta the go ahead. They're up first. Donning rebreather masks, they run across the valley floor to where the titanomech has fallen. The great Martian warmachine is slumped against the Valley wall, looking almost as it's passed out after a night of heavy drinking. Dimi knows that position well. Signaling Greta to wait below, Dimi climbs up onto the mecha's chest.

When she gets to the main door, she takes a breath and twists open the hatch. A waft of charred flesh and guts makes her gag. But she's relieved. The lights of the control panels are glowing. The titanomech is still fit for action. They're designed to take a lot of abuse. The pilot though, has a gaping hole where their chest used to be.

"Your service will not be in vain. Mars will prevail," Dimi promises the pilot, as she pulls them out of the cockpit and lets them fall to the ground with a soft thud.

Settling into the cockpit, she takes a second to clasp her hands to stop their shaking. Eyes closed. Deep breath. Clear mind. She opens her eyes and surveys the controls. It's familiar. The right panel is her weapons inventory. The left panel is her systems status. The center panel is the enemy sensory data. A quick survey tells her that her missiles and plasma canons are at half-capacity, but her rail-slugs are nearly depleted. The systems are mostly nominal besides a few damage points on its sides.

"Alright, Dimi. Get it together. You can do this," she says, flexing and unflexing her hands. She pushes down the twisting nervousness in her belly.

In one quick movement, she shoves her hands into the control gloves. The pinpricks of nerve conducers stab her and connect to her fingers. A familiar tingling climbs her up arms, as the systems calibrate. She leans back, pressing herself into the seat, and allows the control helmet to lower down over her head and self-fasten. Her mind comes alive as her senses overlap with the mecha's.

"Whoa," she whispers, as her awareness expands. Her arms pulse and flex with the added weight of her weapons. Her chest thrums with the burn of her reactor. It's amazing. Flicking through the control menus, she flicks a finger and says,

"Initiate emergency start-up. Disregard all security checks. This should only take fifteen seconds. Let's hope it's fast enough not to be detected."

But the reaction is immediate.

"The Enemy is on the move, Dimi!" Greta screams on their channel. "Contact in twenty seconds!"

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

"Shit! I'm not landing a shot! It's not slowing! Incoming missiles!"

Dimi sees them. Seven of them. But they're not coming at her. They're aimed at Greta. She has to save her! But her mecha is only partially activated! She needs an additional five seconds she doesn't have. Fuck.

"Open controls! Override everything!" Dimi orders.

Pain screams in her mind, as her mecha comes alive prematurely. Calculations and options blossom in her mind, but the numbness in her lower body tells her she has no control over the mecha's legs. She has only one option. She has her mecha push forward with a sharp thrust of an arm, and she falls to her side, landing between Greta and missiles. Her back shakes as the missiles strike her.

Systems check: significant damage to dorsal armor plating.

"You idiot, Dimi! You shouldn't have done that!" Greta curses her.

Dimi has no time to respond. She focuses all her thoughts on scrambling her mecha back to its feet, powering her plasma canons and bracing for impact from the Enemy. It's still a few hundred meters off coming in fast. Her titanomech immediately preps the proper response. Dimi braces herself, aiming her plasma canons and ordering her rail-canons to get a resolution so she can blast it apart and then burn it...

Wait.

That's dumb.

She's doing the same thing the previous two pilots had done. They followed standard operating procedures and died. Titanomechs are "supposed" to stand their ground. There're "supposed" to cut Earthers to pieces and melt them into slag. But that didn't work at all. If she tried that, the Enemy would dodge her shots, come in close, and grapple her to the ground. She'll die. Everyone will die.

So Dimi does something nuts. She jumps.

Activating her leg boosters, she blasts two hundred meters in the air. In her mind, she imagines her mecha gracefully arcing through the air... but instead, she crashes into the canyon wall, her right side mashing into the rock, as she tumbles back down. That wasn't graceful at all. But then again, the Enemy didn't get her, and she's still alive.

Systems check: minimal damage to right face

A warning claxon as the Enemy rushes her again. And once more, another totally non-standard idea comes to her.

At fifty meters incoming, Dimi adopts a fighting stance, raising her arms, forming fists, and widening her foot placement. When the Enemy lunges at her, she doesn't dodge. She leans in and grabs one of its arms with her powered grip. She twists around in a circle, while delivering a mega-punch into its torso, sending the Enemy flying backwards and crashing onto the floor.

Yes! Dimi grins. She got it! She's going to treat this fight as if she were doing hand-to-hand mecha combat!

But just as she starts to cock her fist and to initiate a flurry of jabs and kicks, the Enemy dodges, slips under her, and flips her mecha down on her back.

"Damn!" Dimi curses, as her head rattles from the impact. The Enemy can learn new tricks too.

Alarms scream telling her the Enemy is about to leap on her. Scratch that. It's leaping on her now.

Left with no choice, Dimi launches her entire remaining battery of her rail-slugs. Thankfully, with the Enemy bearing down on her, they slam straight into its chest, blasting it away.

Systems check: front and side armor critical.

"Any time now guys," Dimi mutters, fending off the Enemy's approach with a blaze of plasma canons. She isn't sure how long she can keep this up.

Fortunately though,

BrrrrrrBOOMBOOMBOOM!

"Finally! Took you guys long enough!" Dimi says to the Sweeties as the first titanomech's booster-rockets are destroyed. She's even more relieved when a barrage of missiles launch from all sides and land straight into the Enemy, causing it temporarily curl into a protective ball.

"We moved as fast we could, Dimi," Isa says curtly. "All units, fire again... oh shit! Everyone move!"

Panicked swearing, as the Enemy's mecha moves with blinding speed, firing furiously at the Sweet Sixteens and pushing itself into a nooks and crevice to get at them.

"Damn it! Pat's down!"

"Shit! So is Gia!"

"Y'in too! Fucker!"

No! Her friends are dying! With a cry, Dimi launches herself at the Enemy, slamming into it and shoving it away from her comrades. It wriggles in her grip, firing a cascade of bullets into her.

Systems check: front armor failing

"Fuck!"

In desperation, she snares her hand around the Enemy's arm joint, squeezing at maximal power.

Two faint, nearly imperceptible crunches.

And suddenly, she's tripping backwards, trying to regain her balance. She looks down. The Enemy mecha's arm is in her powered mecha hand. The four Inquisition mecha-suits, still holding each other, are writhing. She flings them to the ground, and stomps on them frantically, Thankfully the arm stops moving.

She killed it.

No...

Not "it"...

Dimi screams to the others, "The attendants! They're still alive! Target the attendants, not their suits! Aim for their heads! That's how the Enemy is connecting the mecha-suits! They have to be alive to work their suits!"

A new round of shots rings out, slamming into the Enemy. This time, they cause it real damage. They've hit three more of the attendants, and blown off half of a leg and arm.

But they're forced to swallow any celebration, as, right before their eyes, the Enemy's mecha-construct contorts upon itself, rearranging the mecha-suits into a new configuration. New arms and legs reform, though they're shorter now. The Enemy's new form falls forward on all fours. In this new beast-like configuration, none of the attendants are vulnerable to attack.

"Incoming!"

Dimi tumbles her mecha to the side, narrowly avoiding the Enemy's charge. As it passes, her sides are racked a shower of new hits.

Systems check: side armor breached. Weapons level critical.

"Dimi! We can't beat it!" Greta screams to her. "You have to destroy your boosters! Have them self-destruct so we can trap the Enemy here!"

Right.

Dimi flicks through her menus, quickly narrowing down on the self-destruct sequence and...

A sharp, mocking laugh rings in her ear.

"You think that will stop me?" the Enemy sneers. "Go ahead! Destroy your boosters! Have them rain nuclear weapons on me!"

"Whatever. It's trying to distract me..." Dimi mutters, initiating the protocol.

"I'm not trying to distract you at all! Look! I'm stopping here, letting you do your thing!" Indeed, the Enemy has halted. "Do you know why I'm letting you, my dear Dimi? It's because my parts will survive the nuclear inferno. They'll be scattered, it's true, but it's only a question of time before someone rediscovers me and reactivates me. Maybe it'll be ten years from now. Maybe one hundred or two hundred. But I'll be back! And when I am, I'll bring you back to me. I'll bring you all back to me and recreate you in the Singularity. And then? I'll torture you for an eternity! So go ahead! Do it! Kill your darling Greta! Kill your friends now! Kill them all! That's really the only thing you'll accomplish!"

Dimi shuts the Enemy out of her mind. It's bluffing her. But what if it's right? It survived its first destruction. It could return. And if it did, it would make their sacrifice pointless. She can't let that happen.

She stops the self-destruct sequence.

"Dimi! Don't stop! The Enemy is lying!" Greta says.

"Don't worry. I got this," Dimi replies, as she plans out her attack sequence. She powers up her final weapon. Her chain-glaive. She'll only have one chance at this. "Everyone, on my mark, fire on this exact spot."

"What are you playing at, Dimi?" Isa barks.

"Just trust me!"

Without waiting for an answer, she powers her chain-glaive and throws herself at the Enemy. The giant chain-saw buzzes alive with its rows of diamond-edge teeth. It's meant to be used to cut deactivated Earther warmachines into pieces. But Dimi is now wielding it like an actual glaive, albeit one twenty meters long and powered by fifty thousand volts. She slams it into the Enemy, aiming for its joints, where the attendants' heads have been sheltering. If she gets at them, she can hack pieces of the Enemy off one by one.

If that's what she wanted to do.

Just as she hoped, the Enemy twists away, reconfiguring itself and firing whatever it can. A shot causes sparks to fly in her cockpit. She persists, waiting for the right moment as the Enemy's shifting body creates the right opening...

"Now! Fire, now!" Dimi screams.

She discards the chain-glaive and slams her mecha's hands at the Enemy's decahedral head. A riot of fire of explodes around her as her bandmates shoot at her command. Her systems scream warnings, but she ignores them, as she tears the attendants' mecha-suits aside to get what she really wants. Yes. Her powergrip closes on the Enemy's "head." With a triumphant roar, she wrenches it out.

"I'm sorry, Greta! Wish there was a better way!" Dimi screams, frantically finding the right command on her mecha.

With the Enemy enclosed in her hand, her back and leg boosters ignite with the emergency launch sequence. Maximum thrust!

"Dimi! What? What are you doing?" Greta screams.

Dimi is unable to reply as the force of the blast-off slams her head against her seat. After a few seconds, the pressure eases slightly, but by then she's too far to establish contact with Greta. Her passenger though, is still able to reach her.

"So you're saving your loved one, huh? Touching, but stupid," the Enemy says. "Any second now I'll be able to connect to the network... Wait. How is this possible. Where is the network? Why is it all dark?"

Dimi smiles.

"The signal is being blocked by the titanomech's gauntlets. The most range you can get is about ten meters. So you're stuck talking to me."

At that exact moment, they're rocketing past the highest density of cavern-habitats. Moments after they'll be headed to the sky.

"Dimi, this is all misunderstanding," the Enemy says. "Don't you see I can help you? There's no need for this. I am your people's salvation. I can give you everything you've ever wanted, correct every single mistake you've made. You can have a life with Greta! What do you say, Dimi? Dimi?"

She snorts at the Enemy's predicable temptations. There's nothing more certain in her mind when she says,

"There's not one thing I would change about my entire life."

She cuts contact. When they're about to exit the Valley, she sends a message to the Martian Military, telling them what she's done and what she's planning. She hopes her explanation is convincing, especially when she sends them her flight route. She hopes they believe her and doesn't shoot at her too soon. She's relieved when she receives confirmation.

As her mecha breaches the atmosphere, Dimi looks down and watches the bright lights of the dome-habitats grow smaller. The reddish arc of the Martian surface extends in front of her. It's beautiful.

Soon the nuclear warheads will slam into her mecha, turning it into a brilliant star for the briefest of moments. The heat of the blast will melt the mecha around the Enemy, trapping it for good and condemning it to a fate of silence in the void of space.

Dimi leans back and smiles.

For once, she didn't fuck it up.

|  |

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# Epilogue

The funeral procession passed through every level of the cavern-habitats and across every dome-habitat. As they passed, genenorms and Decanted stood side by side their heads bowed, honoring the sacrifice that saved their lives.

The procession comes to halt on the plains of Isidis, overlooking one of the oldest battlezones from the war. Two rows of mecha-suits stand at attention, their armor shining in the morning sun. With a nod from the officiant, they raise their weapons to the sky and fire sixty-seven shots - one for each soldier who died fighting the Enemy.

Ivan watches in silence from the privacy booth that Katy has arranged. Even though no one can see them, many have come up to their booth to pay their respects. Because they want to honor him! Thanks to Dimi, he's now part of a heroic family. Ivan tries to laugh. Instead, a dribble of saliva beads at the side of his lips. An eye twitches.

There's a hushed silence as the ashes of the fallen are carried forth in jet-black urns. Each is carried by an honorary mecha bedecked with ceremonial gold epaulets. Not for the fallen Sweet Sixteens though. They are borne by their own. It would have been unacceptable any other way. Three of them carry urns like the others, but the fourth carries one marked with a silver starburst on its face, an award given only twice before for exceptional valor in battle. The urn is Dimi's.

Subdued clapping erupts within the crowd, growing into a low rumble. They saw with their own eyes how Dimi had defeated the Enemy and saved them. They'd seen the blaze of her titanomech shooting into the sky. They'd seen the five missiles that followed up after her. Right as they winked away over the horizon, a blinding burst of light flashed like a new sun and dulled into a smoldering point before disappearing.

The story of Dimi's heroics became widely known shortly after the explosion. Surprisingly, the account was not suppressed and was mostly truthful, accurately describing the battle with the Enemy and how close they came to being defeated. But then again, given the riots raging in the habitats, this wasn't so surprising at all. It also explained why there was especial emphasis on Dimi, the genenorm, standing together with her Decanted comrades against the Enemy. The story was precisely what was needed to remind Martians of their civic duties and to convince them to set aside their grievances.

It worked. Peace returned to the habitats, and Dimi and the Sweet Sixteens became celebrated heroes. Not only that, any misdeed that Ivan may had done - such as facilitating the release of the Enemy through his riot-inducing announcement - was washed away. The new narrative said Ivan had been tricked by the Enemy. The "wild" claims he had made about the uploads and the Singularity were obviously fabrications by the Enemy. It was convenient for everyone, and none more so than for Katy, whose family's honor was repaired and further burnished by her association with her former fiance.

But Ivan knew not everything had been revealed.

"Mmmm! Mmmm! Guh-guh..." he stutters with all his will. It's taken days for him to do this much.

"What is it, Ivan? What are you trying to say?" Katy asks, laying a hand on his. "Do you want more water? Are you uncomfortable?"

Ivan flicks a finger twice to say no to both questions.

"Guh-guh... Gre-gre... Gre!"

"Gray? Great? What are you..."

"Nnnn! Gre! Gre... tah!"

"Ah, I see. Greta. Is that what you're trying to say?"

He flicks once for yes.

"Did you want to see where she is? I'm not sure I saw her come in either."

Ivan angrily flicks twice.

"Nnnn! Nnnn!"

"I'm sorry, Ivan. I don't know what..."

"W... wuh.... Wuh.. rd! Wuh...ord! Fff... Gre... tah!"

Katy looks at Ivan. "Word from Greta. Is that what you're trying to say?"

One flick.

"You're asking if I received word from Greta."

One flick.

"I see." Katy falls silent for a moment. "I did receive word from Greta a few minutes ago. I was going to wait until after the ceremony for security, but I suppose since we're in a privacy booth I can tell you."

"Duh-duh... di... di-di... Dim?"

Katy is silent again. She doesn't need to ask what Ivan is trying to say.

"Greta found her, Ivan. She found Dimi alive." She shakes her head and smiles. "I don't know how you guessed it, but I suppose I should have known I couldn't have hidden it from you."

Ivan has nothing to add. In any case, even if he could talk, he wouldn't have told her how he had known that Greta had contacted her. At least not now. He couldn't exactly explain it himself. He felt Greta's message arrive. He could taste its contents. If he strained hard, he's certain he could feel more than messages tingling over his skin. With enough work and effort, he could do much more. He was always very good with his implants.

"We have nothing to worry about though. Dimi and Greta won't be coming back," Katy says. "Greta says they'll disappear and create new identities for themselves. Probably in one of the Free Colonies where they'll find allies."

Ah, yes. The so-called 'Free Colonies.'

They still didn't have an official name, and were carefully ignored in newsfeeds. Because the Martian Unified Government is unified no more.

Shortly after the Enemy's defeat, the fighting in the habitats had started to abate. Not strictly because of the revelation of Dimi's heroism, though that certainly helped. The fighting had already begun to slow a few hours before, because the government forces realized they could not defeat the Decanted uprising. More than just a few high-ranking Decanted officers had rebelled and brought with them entire battle units and supplies. All the government could do was let them do as they pleased and start their own colony.

And it wasn't just the Decanted who rebelled. Another wing within the Martian Military also defected. They, however, were exclusively composed of genenorms. They had tired of the Church's promise of the Singularity - assuming they ever believed it - and never wanted a shared future with the deeks they so despised. Most of them were from wealthy families who considered themselves to be gene-pure. They took with them a vast amount of resources they'd hoarded and started their very own well-defended colony they declared would be composed of "proper" Martians.

Weakened and fractured into three, the Martian government had no choice but to accept the new status quo. But it won't be so forever. Plans are already being drawn up in all three camps to "deal" with the other two groups.

In the midst of this upheaval, it shouldn't be surprising that there would be many things that could simply not be accounted for. Or things that were forgotten.

Like Aly.

After the Enemy's defeat, he disappeared. He was there when the emergency responders made it to the Catacombs, but somehow he wasn't among those who returned to the surface. Katy had only noticed after she wanted to ask him about Ivan's paralyzed state. In a panic, she ordered him found, but they found no trace of him even after combing the Catacombs.

It wasn't just Aly who was missing. Smiley also was nowhere to be found. And neither could anyone account for the Mazer household drone, M4ry. Not much thought was paid to them though. It was assumed they would turn up sooner or later, likely as corpses and broken remains.

It's inconceivable to imagine that Aly may be wandering in the desert, with Smiley and M4ry trailing behind. In his hand, a small fragment glows pale blue and sickly yellow.

Besides, soon all attention will be focused to Earth. For the Martian satellites have detected detonations. Something has left the planet and is headed for Mars.

# About the Author

Jack is best described as a weirdo with a random assortment of interests, including haranging people about the critical importance of Oxford commas, ranting about the stupidity of consuming limp, insipid, nutrition-devoid salad greens, (note the Oxford comma) and coming up with random, border-line mad ideas. He heartily thanks you for reading his book!
