Soldier

Liftoff from NeoTrans at Horizon City is at oh-dark-early on the Virtrox Stealth Personal Transport Hyperjet. David has spent an exhilarating night figuring out he definitely doesn't need a parachute, and he tries not to second guess that decision as he plummets through the pre-dawn sky. His light armor suit is strictly for utility and warmth reasons, and he is glad for it now as the freezing icy wind buffets against him. His goggles are alight with an array of information, the most pressing being the remaining fall time and the rapidly advancing series of circles anticipating the environmental wind conditions and mapping his ideal fall. Each circle represents ten feet of vertical travel, and they have become a continuous cylinder climbing through the clouds at the speed of his descent. Eight tiny orbs follow him out of the Hyperjet, capturing the event in high definition from multiple angles. They will stay well above the action, but technicians can place the camera perspective anywhere they want in editing, allowing for the ultimate in creative control.

David puts his arms to his side, feet together and leans into the digital dragon's tail with confidence. The wind presses his goggles into his face as he makes tiny course corrections by shifting his arms and legs slightly. With three thousand feet to go, he splays out his arms and legs. His front side suddenly warms up as he focuses his attention on activating his new chrome, but the wind strips away the heat so fast it feels like a warm bath washing over his skin. His vertical speed in his visor plummets as the final navigation rings come into focus, and he rotates in the air to set down gently, perfectly inside the last ring, standing upright.

The surrounding area is a dirt-filled camp of tents, armored vehicles and heavy artillery. All around him, people in desert-tan camouflage are running around, carrying supplies and working on vehicles. No one seems to have noticed his silent arrival. He walks towards the tents as he removes his goggles and addresses a tall woman in full camo tapping something on a handheld tablet. "Sorry, who do you report to?"

The woman looks up from the tablet and says, "Who are you?"

David says, "Trip Six."

She nods and says, "Good. Right on time, I see. You want Hellman. Big tent over there." She points at a large tent across the dusty road.

David nods and walks over to the tent. He pulls the flap over and steps inside. A man with midnight black skin is sitting behind a small desk with a set of terrain relief maps floating above it. As David steps in, Hellman stands up. He's also wearing full desert camos and has a shiny bald head. He demands loudly in a southern federation drawl, "And who the fuck are you supposed to be?"

David says, "David with Trip Six."

Hellman shouts at David, "Well I wish I had the time to give you to un-suck, David with Trip Six, since you're the FNG today, but we're half past haul ass thirty and that means it's time to meet our maker in the fiery crucible of combat. Walk with me." He pushes past David and exits the tent. David quickly walks after him.

Hellman is walking briskly with his hands behind his back down the dirt road and shouting loud enough for the entire camp to hear. "Keep up, scum! My name is Reginald Hellman, and this here is Vendetta Consulting Forward Deployment Alpha, operating under the contractual authority of the United Federation Army. Best in the business, David with Trip Six. Our reputation is success and I damn sure intend to keep it that way. This week's run is the border of a well-known contested tribal area, three hundred fifty miles southwest of Seattle. The natives here have a tower we haven't been able to take yet, and it's preventing our advancement."

David says, "Why haven't we taken the tower, Reginald?"

Hellman glances over as he continues his brisk pace. "Have you eaten this morning, David with Trip Six? Because another question that stupid, and I'm happy to scramble that mug of yours with a round of lead pepper! Strike one. The name's Hellman. I know Trip Six is not exactly known for its 'A+' students, but I think even you can grasp avoiding strike two. Now, listen closely. Blasted things got some sort of advanced tracking system and a gun that makes ours look like limp dicks in a cold shower. It's armored against light arms and it shoots down anything fifty caliber or bigger. We can't get close to it. It's far away enough to track anything and fast and hard-hitting enough to make any round or missile ineffective. It just chews them up and spits them out mid-flight. 'Lasers?,' I hear you thinking. Active cooling armor. Bounces off like piss on a raincoat. No ability to create a hot spot? No melty melty."

David asks, "You got any Doxchord?"

Hellman says, "Well, sure, but you can't get close enough to set it."

David smiles under his helmet. "Let me worry about that. Where is it?"

Hellman says, "Supply tent's over here." He escorts David to a tent guarded by two men with assault rifles and leads him inside. There's a rack on one side with different-sized arms and locking trunks stacked up throughout the tent. Hellman kicks open one trunk and David rummages through it. Hellman continues shouting, having only one volume for speaking. "Normally Vendetta doesn't hire pissheads like yourself for its operations unless we run up against something we haven't seen before. Doesn't happen twice, of course. We're not in the business of getting caught with our pants around our ankles and our dicks in our hands. Trip Six and DOA have been good in the past, so we try to stick with them. You done fucking around yet?" David, having grabbed a few things for his backpack, nods. Hellman spins on one heel and marches out, with David close behind.

Hellman continues his quick pace down the road. "I can assign a small detachment to your command, David with Trip Six. Two armors and a dozen grunts. Of course, I can't imagine what you would do with them, but then I don't really give a shit, so long as it gets the job done. We already ate three trillion figuring out we don't have what's needed. We're guessing they either bought it or stole it from the Chinese because there's literally no way these tree dwellers have the technology to put together something like this themselves. Have you ever dealt with a Chinese Gatling before? Here we are."

They have arrived at the edge of the camp, where a makeshift fence denotes the boundary. Beyond the fence are several warning signs of extreme danger and past those is a line of destroyed armored vehicles. The vehicles are ravaged by fire, and while various amounts of their back ends are mostly intact, their fronts have been absolutely devastated, with different-sized holes punched in them ranging from small-arms fire to the size of David's head. In the distance, a gray circular tower fifty feet tall and half as wide is a thousand feet distant. A series of slits decorates its geodesic top with uniform spacing, making it look slightly perforated.

Hellman stops before the fence and puts his hands on his hips. He is yelling as he looks at the distant tower. "The piece of shit sends steel jacketed tungsten alloy flechettes smaller than a twenty-two. Radar analysis says they're traveling at three times the speed of sound, and given the rate of fire and sound it makes, we know it can't be chemical, so that makes it electrical. We're still trying to work out where it gets its power from, because the firing mechanism is smaller than a new recruit's capacity for logical thought and shielded like a virgin on a first date. We're not picking up any high voltage lines running to it, which doesn't make sense either. There's a tunnel underneath, and that's how they keep it fed with ammo. My guess is their underground network runs deep enough to avoid imaging, so who knows where it pops out at. Could be Asia for all I know. These things just pop up overnight, literally right out of the fucking ground, like a gopher with a gun. Normally we would just splat it with a bunker buster, but we can't get a warhead within a thousand feet of it, and we can't use something larger given the civies near. I'll get my men assembled and... where the fuck are you going? You can't just walk in there! Haven't you been listening?" David starts walking again and steps through a break in the fence. Hellman raises the volume of his voice even more as he calls after David. "Fuck me, you can't grow something this stupid. You got a death wish? At least take an armor!"

David looks behind him without breaking stride and shouts over his shoulder, "Get them ready! Get everyone ready! Tower's about to come down!"

Hellman shakes his head and shouts, "Now that would be outright miraculous, David with Trip Six!" He mentally keys his radio and yells, "Jordan, get your ass to the tower border, ASAP! I want you to see the soup sandwich your specialist budget is getting spent on."

Hellman watches on as he's joined by the woman David had asked for directions from earlier. Jordan says, "What the frag is that moron doing?"

Hellman says, "Getting himself killed." They both watch on in silence as David slowly approaches the tower.

As David advances on the warning signs, he notices the packed dirt ground is littered with tiny holes and slivers of metal. He walks past the signs and holds up his hands in front of him. When he takes his first step bringing him to the line of destroyed vehicles, the tower erupts with a momentary burst of thunderous noise and a bright flash of light. A streak of orange streams from the top of the tower directly towards David. He doesn't even have time to close his eyes before the twenty needles slam into his upheld hands and fall harmlessly to the ground. David freezes, then slowly opens his eyes and looks down at the red hot pile of spent flechettes. He cautiously takes another step forward and the tower goes BRAPT again, sending another volley at his upheld hands. Another pile of glowing needles forms on the ground.

Hellman looks over at Jordan, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Hell's donkeys, Jordan! Who the fuck did you hire?"

Jordan shakes her head, looking on in awe. "I have no idea," she whispers.

David waves his hands around and the turret triggers repeatedly as the small collection of glowing metal at his feet grows. He stands still for a second, then waves one hand in the air, triggering a burst of fire, and at the same time, makes a punching motion directly at the tower with his other hand. The orange streak extends a hundred feet from the tower; then the top of the tower erupts in a fireball. The fireball rises into the sky in a mushroom cloud as black smoke begins to billow out of the top. David nods and turns around to walk away when the tower detonates with a massive BOOM, sending a visible shock wave outward. David, Hellman and Jordan all stumble with the force of the explosion, as bits of metal rain down. David nonchalantly walks over to rejoin Hellman and Jordan, who are staring at him in disbelief.

David says, "There ya go," as he approaches them. "Will that be sufficient for full pay?"

Jordan blinks at him and says loudly, "What?"

Hellman nods and shouts, "Well, if you didn't make a liar out of me, David with Trip Six! I reckon that'll do it. What kind of loadouts are they running over there?"

David shakes his head and says, "One of a kind. They're working on more, but they're not there yet."

Hellman yells, "Worth every yen if you ask me! What do you think, Jordan?"

Jordan looks between them and demands, "What?"

Hellman shrugs and shouts, "Blew her ears out anyway. Time to get proper combat chrome, Jordan. Well, go get the authorization for full payment in!" He turns to David. "So what were the explosives and Doxchord for?"

David says, "Oh, I just wanted some. Impossible to get, you know? Can I keep it?"

Jordan shouts at the top of her lungs, "What?!?"

The feed of David taking down the tower had become an instant sensation, putting him in the tops for his category. The reaction was polarizing, with the Fakids insisting the entire thing is completely made up from start to finish and Daviners demanding not only was everything completely real, it represented the future of cyberware. David had quickly realized the conversion of inertia to heat was also a reversible process, allowing him to convert the heat of the flechettes into inertia directed back at the turret. Now, back in the comfort of his home in Horizon City, he was experimenting with the range limits and teaching himself new tricks.

At first, he was barely able to hover off the ground, but with a little practice, he was able to drastically increase his jump distance, soaring ten feet in the air and floating gently back down. Chrome had made others jump that high before, but floating down like a feather was definitely useful. Moving small objects that were cold seemed to be a no-go at first, but he was able to lift his car by raising his hand after it had been running for a while and the engine was hot. It took a few days of practice, but eventually, he was stealing heat from one object to give inertia to another, floating around at will without freezing his feet, gaining fine control over objects at a distance of well over a thousand feet and even flying short distances.

Trip Six was ecstatic and booked him to lead every major mission. He would help the Judges on risky busts, take out several towers all over the continent and lead a charge of sixty armored vehicles against over three hundred Soviet tanks, which under normal circumstances would have been a suicide mission, but instead had been a one-sided battle, with zero losses on David's side. It was a few short months before he was being honored with the United Federation Medal of Freedom, for his overwhelming contribution to the advancement of the Federation's agenda, and with it, the Pebblewimby Feeder award. The award ceremony had the prior holder, an artist named Matt Charadon, handing over the award to David on live feed, but Matt had his girlfriend do the honors.

Of course, all the attention attracted new contracts and with it, money. He had used his earnings to buy out his contract with Trip Six and was persuaded to sign up with the United Federation of States Army with an incredibly generous contract guaranteeing him a high-ranking position of leadership, his choice of deployment location and very good buyout options. The increased capacity he brought had emboldened the Army to conquer additional territories, and David had been deployed to the northern border with several thousand troops under his command. The USF had made an ultimatum to the Northern Alliance to open negotiations for a merger, or a hostile takeover would follow. They had been given three months to formulate an official reply, and there had been major riots in Pleasant and Rotary City over differences in opinion about how the merger should go, but the official reply that came back had sent the area with a population of over ten million into an absolute panic: The difference in value offered was too far apart to consider negotiations. Yesterday the ultimatum had expired, and today the UFSA planned on taking the outposts at the Fraser River, a key forward defense before the main target of Pleasant City.

Pleasant City had a population of two million people and was a sprawling metropolis controlled by the Irving family, who had taken advantage of the corporate wars of the forties and brought systematic law to the lawless people of what was formerly known as Vancouver, Canada. They had partnered with the Thomsons, and together they had managed to salvage a large portion of the western half of the northern territories under the banner of the Northern Alliance. The United Federation of States and the Northern Alliance had lived in relative peace with the other major world powers for forty years, being members of the United Nations and sharing a healthy trade that mutually benefited both economies. The proposed merger was one designed to enhance these relationships and grow the overall power of the UFS, but the NA saw it as a move by the Japanese to expand their position of power in the west, having already established a strong foothold. On the eve of war, David was addressing his team leaders as they prepared for battle.

"Listen up, Hellfire. This is what you have been training for. You have shown yourself more than capable of working as a team, but this will be the ultimate test. I know that these are unusual orders you have been given, but I need you to follow them regardless. To say the least, these are unusual times we are living in. I don't need to tell you what I am capable of. What I do need to tell you is we're doing this for the betterment of humanity. We're doing this to secure the future of freedom. If anyone in here doubts that, I want you to speak up now, because after tomorrow, there will be no going back. History will either remember you, or you will simply remember history. If there is any one of you who thinks this plan is ill advised and we should do something else, I'm listening. Now is the moment to suggest changes before we march into battle. Permission to speak freely is granted." David looks around at the twenty-two uniformed men and women standing at attention. Every one of them stood tall, hands behind their back, heads held high, meeting David's gaze with stone silence. David nods and continues, "So be it. I've been hard on you, Hellfire, because I know you can handle it. You are the best in the world at what you do. That's why I'm counting on you to follow the orders to the letter, and I mean dotting every I and crossing every single T. If any member of your team so much as looks like they are going to break rank, you shoot them. If you don't, I'll shoot them, then I'll shoot you. This is deadly serious, and that starts right now. It's your moment to make your careers, so let's give them fire!"

The group shouts in unison, "HELLFIRE!"

David shouts, "Best of the best!"

The group yells, "HUAH!"

David intones, "Dismissed!", and watches as the group turns around and marches out in orderly single file, the flame-licked Hellfire graphic large on their uniform backs.

The rising of the sun saw a line of armored vehicles a mile wide and half as deep, bearing the UFSA flag, slowly advancing over the hilly terrain. A large bridge lay over the river, a critical piece of infrastructure which connected Pleasant City to its southern border, and a military outpost had been established there with several large bunkers defending the bridge. A phalanx of tanks, missile launchers and long-range artillery was lined up on the other side of the river, ready to fire on anything that approached. The invasion of Pleasant had been the news for three weeks as the forces gathered on either side, and now an encounter was unavoidable.

David was leading the charge by a few hundred feet with a detachment of six all-terrain vehicles. As they drew within two miles of the river, the armored line stopped their advance and the forward detachment continued on. Half a mile before the bridge, the mass of defenses prepared became visible, lined up on either side of the river. A pair of Jeeps were driving towards them, so they stopped and waited for the convoy. As they pulled up, they broke hard, thirty feet from David's group, and a tall man in a tan uniform covered in medals and stripes got out of the passenger seat. He had wrinkled tan skin and was wearing a service duty hat with the NAA logo on it, a dress jacket, slacks and shiny black shoes that glisten in the morning light. He left the door open and started walking alone towards them.

David gets out and walks out to meet the man halfway. As they approach one another, the man in the uniform is the first to speak. "Get fucked, ya noob," he says, his voice deep and resonating.

David's eyes go wide with surprise. "Eat shit and die, old man!"

The uniformed man smiles, his eyes twinkling slightly. "It's good to see you again, David." He extends his hand.

David grasps the extended hand and shakes it warmly. "Well, it's been what? Six years now, Ryan? I didn't know you went Northern! You're looking good!"

Ryan smiles and says, "Well, not as good as you! I mean, where is the cape, huh? This isn't like the good old days at Trip Six, is it?"

David grins. "Where I'm the wide-eyed kid full of bright ideas, and you're the grizzled veteran who has seen it all?"

Ryan nods. "Yeah. Something like that. So... how do you want to do this?" He looks down at the ground.

David puts his hands on his hips. "Well, I suppose we had better give them some kinda show. That is, of course, unless... surrender is an option."

Ryan looks back up, a hopeful look on his face, "You mean... you would surrender?"

David shakes his head. "No. I was hoping you might."

Ryan shakes his head back, a shadow crossing his features again. "I tried, David. I really did. We all did. They got something planned but it's well above my paygrade. They just tell me to defend the river at any cost. I'd lose my contract if we didn't. I have a wife and three kids, David. Do you know how close I am to a buyout?" He looks at David with sad eyes.

David nods understandingly. A few seconds of silence pass as Ryan stares at the ground and David looks around. Finally, David says, "Well, it was good to see you again, Ryan. Maybe we can get drinks when this is all over?"

Ryan looks up and says wryly, "I'll hold you to it, son, and I'll let you do the buying too." He smiles kindly at David, the kind of smile a grandfather would give to his grandson.

David nods and grins, "You got it, old man. Don't forget to take your trait pills now."

Ryan smiles and says, "Grow up, kid." He nods, and David nods back. They turn, walk back to their vehicles, and drive away. David radios his lieutenants, and the advance continues.

Within minutes, the first loud booms start to echo from off in the distance. Fifteen seconds pass, then a high-pitched whistling faintly starts to sing. The radio comes alive in David's head with the voice of his radar technician, a man named Sung Noon. "Shells in the air, sir."

David replies, "Got 'em." The whistling sound grows louder, then the ground three hundred feet ahead of the advancing line erupts, sending dirt and smoke into the air. Another whistling sound and the same exact spot explodes, forming a crater ten feet wide. More distant thunder rolls in, followed by more whistling sounds, and the crater expands with a third, fourth and fifth shell slamming into the same exact location with unerring accuracy, digging out the ground around it and deepening the hole. The line of armors rolls on, splitting their path to go well around the danger zone, as more shells find their mark in the widening hole.

A volley of missiles shoots up in the distance, soars a hundred feet into the sky, turns toward the advancing army and streaks directly towards them. As they zoom in, their tips burst apart with a bang and hundreds of miniature explosives swarm over their heads. For a second, it looks like they are going to carpet the whole line, but then, as they get within a hundred feet, they all snap together in a ball as if suddenly magnetized and drop directly into the crater made by the shells. A colossal boom rocks the battlefield and the hole in the ground vents fire and black smoke in a fifty-foot column. The line advances around the explosion, completely unphased.

A pair of black helicopters fly in low to the ground and unleash a streak of missiles at the front of the tanks. The missiles soar harmlessly over them and bury themselves in the hole with a series of explosions that echo through the area. The helicopters fire again, to the same effect, ripping up the dirt in the forty-foot deep hole. A third volley deepens the hole more and the line moves forward. The helicopters turn around and fly away.

As they get within a half mile of the banks, more missiles overshoot their target and detonate harmlessly in the mass weapons grave. Machine gun nests burst into continuous fire, their shells ripping into the ground directly ahead of the armored vehicles as if warning them off but not intending to hit. Tanks unleash a continuous volley of shells which plow into the ground between them, throwing up dirt and smoke. The air is filled with a continuous blast of ear-splitting booms and explosions and a layer of smoke and dust begins to form, and the line continues its inevitable advance.

High overhead, a Hyperjet pilot receives orders from the radio. He radios back confirmation, flips up a protective safety guard, flicks a switch and puts his hand on his weapons control selector. He radios once more, then pulls the trigger. The Hyperjet releases its enormous payload and the pilot pulls up his tracking screen. A map appears in the air before him, showing the path of the weapon to the target, with an estimated time to impact of three minutes. The tracking shows the missile accelerating smoothly under power, rapidly gaining speed as it follows its planned trajectory. With two minutes remaining, the warhead arms itself automatically in preparation for a high altitude detonation. The Northern Alliance had determined that the nuclear fallout from the two-kiloton warhead would result in minimal damage to surrounding areas, and friendly casualties would be well within acceptable parameters. The goal was to eliminate David, bringing a swift end to the war, even as it started, by eliminating their key weapon.

"Sir, satellite is reporting high-altitude incoming." The voice of David's logistics manager, a younger and very bright woman named Tasha Moore, comes into David's head over the radio.

David mentally keys his radio. "Talk to me, Tasha. Is it hot and heavy?"

"More like scorching and pregnant, sir, and looking for love in all the wrong places." Tasha replies.

"So they really were willing to drop a glowshine on their own? Huh. I guess I owe you that bottle of sake. We got what we need?" David says.

Tasha says, "Already assembling the package for delivery, sir."

David nods. "You'll make the tops with this, Moore. You realize that?"

Tasha's voice is dead serious as she comes back over the radio. "Just doing my job, sir."

David keys his radio again and says, "Imaging, you got it yet?"

A different voice, that of the optics and imaging technician, comes on. "Triangulating since it dropped, sir."

David says, "On my feed." A little red targeting reticle appears in David's vision, high in the sky. He steps out of his vehicle, looks up, and raises his hand to point at the target. His vision is suddenly magnified a thousand times, as a computer-generated live view of the missile appears in his sight. He points his finger at the target and very slowly tracks its motion with his arm, carefully lining up his focus on the incoming warhead. As he makes minute adjustments, the targeting reticle flashes from red to green. David makes a flicking motion with his finger, and the missile disappears as the crosshairs lift high into the sky, then flicker off. David nods, satisfied, and gets back in his vehicle.

The imaging manager says on the radio, "Now that was something to see, sir. Thing of beauty."

In the Hyperjet, the pilot tracks the trajectory of the missile carefully, radioing updates at thirty-second intervals. "ETA one minute, thirty seconds. Targeting looks good, the warhead is green, we're in the pipe, five by ... fuck me sideways with a chainsaw! It just turned around and is headed straight up! Fast, too! Control, are you seeing this? It's gone completely ballistic skyward. What in the name of all that is holy can do that?"

Back on the ground, the armor had gotten within a quarter mile without having taken a single shot when the shooting slowed, then stopped. David got the word in his radio a minute later from Moore. "They're asking for terms of surrender, sir. You did it! Zero casualties."

David grins. "We did it, Hellfire. Best of the best!"

The reply comes back in his head in perfect unison. "HUAH!"

The initial response to the Fraser battle was swift and loud. Asia initially pointed the finger at the UFS for unprovoked hostilities against a UN member. The NA cried foul and demanded protection. Japan pointed out that it was the NA who had engaged in the actual hostility and praised the UFS for its sophisticated tactics and preservation of life.

The UFS's response didn't happen right away, but a week later, David found himself giving the Pebblewimby Feeder award to Tasha Moore for her official UFSA public report on the battle of Fraser. The two-hour simstim-enabled documentary carefully broke down every single shot fired, allowing people to either watch passively as the battle unfolds, with expert narration and thrilling cinematography on HoloVid, or actively explore the entire battle in simstim, walking through the scene in perfect detail, seeing the trajectories of every shot and missile fired as dotted lines and advancing and rewinding the timeline at will. Extra attention was given to the nature of the warhead, its projected destination and what would have happened if it had detonated as planned. Ten full minutes were devoted to detailing the short and long-term effects to the people of Pleasant City from the radioactive fallout. The next day, negotiations for merger were open, and within a month, the Northern Alliance was dissolved and the western coast of what was once called Canada was annexed to the United Federation of States.

Tasha was promoted, as had been promised, and David requisitioned her as his first officer. Together, they had been invited to meet the CEO of the UFS at her mansion in Horizon City. The CEO, Lilly Mars, was a very private woman, rarely seen in public. She was known for her extravagant tastes and enormous wealth and had famously spent billions of yen on her appearance, traveling the world to get the most exclusive features available from the elite of the modification industry.

David had gotten a one-of-a-kind suit from the anonymous Horizon City fashion designer Insert Name Here. The suit was made out of dark matte-gray shahtoosh, with glossy silk lapels, a white shirt with a popped collar and diamond cuff links that sparkled brightly. He was stepping out of the limo, holding a gift box in one arm, and was greeted by a tall, slender white man in a white suit with a gold tie. His bald head was a shiny olive, and he was wearing round glasses and holding a gold walking stick in one hand. "Mr. Gideon! Thank you so much for coming!" he said boisterously. His voice was metered and soft, and he smiled genuinely as he outstretched his hands. "Miss Mars is so excited to meet you! I am Jawadedton Mysorian, but everyone just calls me Jawad. Your friend has already arrived and is waiting for you inside. Please, right this way." He waves in the direction of the house. "May I relieve you of your burden?" He points at the black box in David's arm.

David nods and holds it out. "If you wouldn't mind. A gift for my host."

Jawad nods and takes the box carefully in one hand as he walks with David across the lawn to the house. "It will be with you when you meet her then. We have arranged for pepperoni pizzas from Uncle Tony's, a supply of their famous fried baby mice and plenty of Ebola Cola. I believe that should be to your liking?"

David nods and says, "Of course! My favorite, actually."

Jawad says, "Excellent! Is there anything else I can attend to for you? Perhaps something you need help acquiring or accomplishing? I am entirely at your disposal."

David chuckles a little and says, "I like you, Jawad. There may be later, but not at the moment."

Jawad nods as they come to the door to the atrium and pulls it open. "Of course, Mr. Gideon. Right this way."

Inside the atrium, a woman in her twenties is a white column of silk topped with red ringlets falling over a porcelain face. Piercing blue eyes stare out from beneath the curls, and her lips are painted a striking red. David walks over to her and says, "Well you clean up alright, Tasha. You ready to do this?"

Tasha nods and says, "Yes, sir."

David chuckles and says, "I said call me David."

Tasha smiles. "Sorry. Force of habit, sir. I mean David, sir. I mean..."

David smiles good naturedly. "Don't be nervous. Let's give them fire."

Tasha says loudly, "Hell..." and claps a hand over her mouth as her face turns red.

David laughs out loud and turns to Jawad. "I believe we are ready."

Jawad nods and points at the other end of the Atrium with a long table. There's an enormous spread of food and bottles, with plates and cups available. "Our host will be joining us shortly. In the meantime, there are refreshments available and a sofa." He points at the other wall where several sofas are arranged. "I would be happy to serve you a plate if you like."

David nods. "Thank you, Jawad. That won't be necessary. That will be all for now." Jawad bows ever so slightly, and walks swiftly out of the room.

Tasha looks over at David and says, "Interesting fellow."

David walks over to the sofas and makes himself comfortable and Tasha joins him. David says, "Well-paid is the first description that comes to mind. Probably one of the most well-compensated in the organization. Thirteen digits."

Tasha whistles appreciatively. They chat idly for a few minutes, then Jawad reappears. He stands in the doorway and says, "If I could have your attention, please. Your host, Miss Lilly Mars." He steps to one side and a tall woman with flawless mocha skin walks in wearing a skin-tight maroon dress made of latex. Her body gives the dress an hourglass shape, with a busty top filling out the front, an impossibly small waist and a round bottom leading to two shapely legs. Her bright orange hair is long, falling all the way to her rear, and full of body that makes it flow and wave as she walks. She's perched on high stilettos and has heavy makeup that highlights her strong facial features like an expensive piece of art. Lilly walks over to the sofas accompanied by Jawad, who is holding the gift box.

David and Tasha stand up as Lilly and Jawad approach and extend their hands. Lilly shakes them both as she says, "David! Tasha! Thank you for coming. I am delighted to speak to the heroes of Fraser." Her voice was as soft as freshly fluffed pillows. "Never in the history of humans has such a battle been fought with that much firepower and suffered no losses. You showed us an end to death in war. The history books will write about you, David. And the way you managed to capture the whole thing, Tasha? And the dotted lines showing the bullet trajectories? You deserve the Pebblewimby Feeder and more. No offense, David. Tell me, Tasha, how did you get the bullet trajectories for the simstim?"

Tasha says, "Oh, I had written an algorithm to track our own shots to measure accuracy. I just had the AI apply it to both sides."

Lilly shakes her head. "Simply amazing. Walking around the machine gun nests is my favorite part. But enough about that. Please, sit." They all sit down. "I wanted to talk to you about the future. You obviously have been part of our enormous success and I think we should continue on the path we are on. I see great things for both of you in the future."

David glances over at Tasha, who nods slightly to him. He looks back at Lilly and says, "I'm glad you brought up the subject, but first, if you would indulge me, I brought you a gift."

Lilly smiles at David, and he feels his heart race and an erection stirring in his pants. Jawad steps over and presents the box to Lilly, who accepts it graciously. She lifts the top, which opens on a hinge, reaches inside and pulls out a bottle with mild curiosity. Lilly sets the box aside and examines the label carefully. "How thoughtful, I... wait a cycle... David? Did you really? How?"

David smiles and spreads his hands. "It was brought to my attention that you desired it."

Lilly brings one hand daintily to her chest as she looks briefly overwhelmed with emotion. Tasha looks back and forth between them, slightly confused. Lilly notices her confusion, lowers her hand and explains to her, "My father collected vintage Port wine. It was a collection started by his great, great grandfather and given to his son when he died. He added to the collection and gave it to his son, who did the same. When my father died seven years ago, he passed it on to me. I was able to find and acquire almost all the old vintage releases, making the collection nearly complete, but one vintage remained elusive, and that was the nineteen forty five." She turns the dark bottle around, revealing an old paper label with 1945 prominently displayed on it. "As if I wasn't already impressed, David, I'm simply blown away now. Thank you. Jawad?" She puts the bottle in the box and hands it to Jawad.

Jawad takes it and says, "Right away," then turns and walks out of the room.

Lilly says, "Well then. That was quite unexpected. David, your contribution has not gone unnoticed, and your choice of first officer with it. Your abilities to negotiate difficult situations and the company you keep is obviously exceptional. It's something the executive team and I have been discussing and I think it is only appropriate to reward you both with promotions within the organization. I know you were just promoted, Tasha, but this would be more of a lateral move. I want you both to be a part of our steering and planning committee. It's an important role in that you would both have input into the ultimate direction of the organization."

David grins happily, the erection in his pants reaching full mast. "Ah, Lilly! Thank you so much! No."

Lilly smiles and nods. "You are most welcome! I can assure you... I'm sorry, no to what David?"

David says, "I'm declining your offer. We are declining your offer." His erection was pressing against the front of his pants painfully. Tasha had crossed her legs and her lower half was squirming uncomfortably in her seat. Lilly blinks a few times, looking back and forth between them. David says, "I think it's a clever trick, though, how you get people to do what you want. You offer them their dreams come true and they'll take it, knowing that it's a gift they dare not refuse, despite the ultimate costs. Sure, money and influence appeal to everyone, right? Who would turn that down? And in case they are attempting to think straight about the whole proposition, you make sure they can't because you have some custom designer pheromones that activate the primal urge centers of the brain. They just get their sexual drive ramped up so intensely they can't think about anything but satisfying that biological need for gratification, and you bring it in the moment when it's most critical, committing them to owing you unlimited favors. I've heard rumors of such trait mods existing, but I had never seen them applied so effectively as a tool of manipulation. I admire you, Lilly Mars. You have built quite the empire."

Lilly's smile has slowly started to turn into a frown. David continues, "I myself just am not the manipulative type, Lilly. I'm more of the 'think and make it a reality' sort. Right now, I could bring this entire dome down around us and Tasha and I would be the only ones to survive. But to what end? Why take lives when you can control them and make them do your bidding? Isn't it much easier to get everyone to do everything for you? That's the name of the game you play, Lilly Mars. CEO, leader, puppet master. What's the difference? We are declining your offer, Miss Lilly Mars, because you owe me a favor now. That's how favors work, right? We do a favor and are owed one in return? Well, I have done you two now. Your territory has expanded and your collection of rarities has been as well."

Jawad has returned and is standing several feet away with his hands behind his back. Lilly says, "What exactly is it you want, Mr. Gideon?"

David shakes his head and says, "Oh no, it's not like that! No no. This isn't extortion, Lilly. Have I not shown you that I understand how the game is played? No, we don't just come out and make demands! How uncivilized! Lilly, please, don't think me such a monster. Have I not served you well? I will continue to and together, we will expand our base of power. I just wanted you to understand who was actually going to be making the decisions, as we do so. You see, Lilly Mars, if my first officer comes and makes some request of you, I expect the favor will be returned. Now if you will excuse us, we have other business that requires our attention. Oh, and one more thing."

Lilly says with an annoyed tone, "What?"

David says, "Jawad will be changing his role in the organization. He has proven most... useful. I never would have found that bottle without his assistance." He looks over his shoulder at Jawad, and Jawad steps forward. "Are we ready to depart?" David asks.

Jawad nods and says, "Yes sir. My bags are packed and in the car."

David nods, and he and Tasha stand. David says, "Thank you, Lilly. I don't expect we will ever see each other again, but you will be hearing from us." He smiles and winks at Lilly, and the three of them walk out together, leaving a fuming Lilly Mars staring after them.

The Trip Six technician checked a final box on her tablet and hit the compile button on the report. The tablet flashes COMPILING for a second, then pulls up the formatted report to review. She was just about ready to send it when her boss walks in and says, "I saw. He took her job and her hired help. That's mission accomplished. What's the total run time to completion, Jenny?"

The technician looks up from her tablet and says, "Six months, eighteen days, nine hours, forty-two minutes. I was just completing the report. Can I ask a question though, Evan?" Evan nods. "I get the idea behind war games and learning simulations, but what can we learn when it's all fantasy?" Jenny asks.

Evan smiles. "It wasn't all fantasy, was it?"

Jenny thinks about it for a second. "Well, no. The places and the people were real enough, right down to the CEO at the end. It was the technology that was all a bit fantastic. Chrome that makes you fly and bullets bounce off you? Pheromones that turn people into yes-men? That's obviously not real. You can't actually do that in real life."

Evan nods. "No, of course not. You have to remember the point of the mission. We're not trying to learn from this; the computer is. The AI hasn't ever encountered any of this before and it learns through experience. It dreams up specific variables it wants to put under test because it has questions about them. Questions about how humans would react to certain situations, for example. Things it recognizes it doesn't know. To answer those types of far-reaching questions, the AI has to bend the rules of reality a little to set up the situation that will produce the answer. It's like asking a thought experiment about some hypothetical situation in the future and then getting back the actual answer. The data is useful because the AI now has answers to questions it didn't know before. When a situation comes up in reality that has some similarities, it can use that data in helping to predict the outcome. Most importantly, it's really asking questions about how humans react to certain situations; it's able to optimize the number of questions that it can get answered by coming up with complex situations that involve a lot of human dynamics."

Jenny nods, her tablet forgotten in her hand at her side. "Like someone actually pulling the strings at the political level."

Evan smiles and says, "Exactly. The critical point is the turnaround time on the answer. Six months took, what, three hours? Go ahead and send the report. It's lunchtime, it's my turn to pick and I want sushi."

Jenny smiles and hits the send button on her tablet. "Done. Vat sushi again, huh?" She sets the tablet on the desk and walks out as Evan holds the door for her. "That is impressive, how they compress six months for him into three hours for us. So how was this developed anyway? Obviously it's based on simstim technology, but the AI war games part, who did that?"

Evan walks out of the lab, following Jenny. Together, they start walking through the hallways of the Trip Six research and development laboratory. Evan says, "Well, that's the interesting part. It's sort of a permanent loan to us from the owner of the company. A man named Benjiro Takahashi. He has his fingers in a few businesses in the area, including an AI startup called Future Unlimited Combat Knowledge. Dumb name, I know. Kids these days are so unoriginal. Anyway, they needed seasoned combat veterans for their product development and we needed a combat AI upgrade, so it was a perfect match."

Jenny smiles brightly. "Smart! So the AI just flushes the tank when it's done so he won't remember?"

Evan says, "Well, that, and so Trip Six doesn't have to pay anything but hazard pay. He'll wake up in the tanks having lost a day. His clone won't remember a thing. Nothing lost and an awful lot gained. As far as the official report goes, he was deployed today and will wake up in the tanks. We don't pay for missions not accomplished. Besides, what's he gonna do with a head full of fake memories, anyway? Better to just pull the plug and get it over with."

Jenny grins wickedly, "But then he would have to cope with not being able to fly! I'd kinda like to see the look on his face."

Evan giggles and says, "I'm going to make you do whatever I say with my magic pheromones!" He waggles his fingers at her as they walk on together, laughing.