Anamnesis ©
Chapter Sixteen
By Fiction Writer #13
(nosex, sci-fi , paranormal)

Jon shook with rage.  He felt cut off from the world around him, there physically, but not mentally.  He wasn't even sure what was happening, or if any of what his eyes took in could be trusted as reality.  Silence.  The room was silent, but only for his ears.  Things were going on all around him, just within his periphery of vision.  People were talking, maybe even to him... but he heard none of it.  His world was one of muffled silence, the kind that can only be experienced under great depths of water.

He was barely aware of the gun clenched tightly in his hand, nor did he have any conscious memory of drawing it in the first place.  All he knew was that its weight felt comforting, and the cold chill of the gun's carbon fiber grip matched that of the blood pumping through his veins.  Something deep inside was telling him, pleading with him, ordering him to pull... pull... pull the trigger, but his muscles wouldn't budge.

His eyes were focused, locked in place.  They sighted down the barrel towards his target, though he was unsure of exactly what that target was.  All he could see was a blurry form crouching on the floor.  It moved slightly, shaking just as he was, but he still couldn't connect the dots in his memory.  There was too much rage, too much anger, too much sadness and pain to think clearly... it was all... too much...

'You promised...'

Her voice scratched within his mind.

'You promised to give them a chance...'

It clawed its way through his anger, through his pain.

'You promised me...'

"Emily?" his dry lips whispered.

'Remember... remember me, Jon... Remember your promise...'

"I..." His hand shook hard.  The gun bounced in his grip as his trigger finger tensed.

"I will."

The gun clattered on the steel floor by his feet and before it bounced a second time Richardson was there to sweep it up.

Jon stared down at the woman kneeling on the floor.  She was sobbing quietly, her head down, her hands exposed and turned upwards verifying that she was not holding a weapon, but Jon knew all too well that she wouldn't need one to do damage.

Jon wiped away tears with the back of his hand before hissing, "Take her to the brig and keep a weapon on her at all times."

Richardson raised the discarded weapon and aimed at Qian, but made no move to take her away.

"Boss, I've been with you for ten years, and during that time I've never questioned any order you've ever given me.  I trust you, but you've got to give me an explanation for this.  Qian's been one of us since the beginning, what's going on?"

"She's a mole." Jon held back the urge to spit on her. "She was planted here to spy on us, to get close enough to assassinate me if needed.  She's with Donovan."

"...no..." Qian sobbed as she shook her head. "... that's... not... true..."

"The fuck it isn't you fucking bitch!" Jon roared down at her. "I... I can't even look at you.  Just get her the fuck out of here before I snap her god damn neck."

"13... Jon... I'm... I'm not with him anymore." Qian could barely choke out the words as she spoke. "I left him... a long time ago..."

"You'd better keep your fuckin' mouth shut before I rip out your tongue, you piece of shit." Jon moved to kick her, but stopped himself just short.  Instead his rage found an outlet as his fist met the wall, hard enough to crack the static nullifying plating and tear his knuckles open. "God Damn It!"

Jon spoke through gnashed teeth. "Get- her- the- fuck- out- of- here.  Now."

"Um... Sir?" the nearly forgotten Jimmy spoke through the com system. "I don't know what's going on out there, but I still need her help."

"Jimmy, for Christ's sake, you can handle this without her."

"No... I can't." Jimmy's voice sounded stronger, more confident than he ever did before. "In here... you are the Newbs.  And she's the only one out of you that knows dick about programming."

"Damn." Jon rubbed his temples before kicking a chair which Ellis and Pritchard barely dodged.

"Please, Jon." Qian slowly raised her head.  Her face was pale, her eyes bloodshot and swollen from crying.  Her lower lip trembled as she spoke. "Let me help.  I can do it.  Let me show you whose side I'm really on."

Jon eyed her warily, searching for any signs of deception.  It was so hard to tell.  He knew too much about who she was and what she was capable of.  After all, she was his sister.  He knew that she could be lying right now even though none of the normal tells were present, not even the biological responses.  She'd been trained as well as he had in the art of lies.

"Oh crap." Willis spoke flatly just before the alarms began to ring out.

Jon whipped around to face him. "What is it?"

"The computer's anti-virus has detected an intruder." Willis' looked scared. "It's launched a hunter program to kick it out."

Jon turned back to Qian but she was already up and moving despite Richardson still pointing the gun at her.

"Get the hell out of the pilot's seat, Willis." Qian dove for the keyboard and began typing like mad. "It knows that the intrusion came from in this room.  We're going into full lockdown mode.  Stand clear of the doors."

"What the fuck is going on?" Boulanger asked as he stepped into the room.

Thinking fast, Richardson shoved him back out and tossed him his walkie-talkie just before the heavy door slammed shut.

Richardson looked around and pulled Pritchard's walkie from his belt. "Boulanger, do you read me?"

"Five by five.   What's going on?"

"The computer's put us in lockdown.  Find Russo, Wolfgang, and Rico.  You're in charge of keeping the ship secure until we can get out.  Clear?"

"Crystal."

Jon nodded at Richardson. "Way to think on your toes."

Richardson grinned. "Just glad it won't be me that has to move the ship if there's an emergency."

Jon returned the grin but it quickly faded when his attention returned to Qian and Jimmy.

'Can this day get any worse?'

"Can this day get any better?" James asked aloud as he snapped his phone shut.

The two of them had been riding up the elevator to the tenth floor when the phone rang.  The conversation ended as the doors opened and they disembarked.

"Got some good news?" Rob asked as he checked the signs on the wall for the radio station's offices.

"Hell yeah, I got some good news!" James smiled. "That was Mindy Stevenson, the hottest piece of ass in Highland Park, and she wants to come to the concert with me tonight!"

 "What happened to Darlene?" The question slipped out before Rob could stop himself.

"Darlene?  Damn, she was like twelve phone calls ago.  I upgraded." James switched his phone to vibrate instead of playing the first few bars of some club song, which Rob had never heard before and hoped would never hear again.

"Their offices are over this way." Rob nodded to his right before taking the lead.  The sooner this guy got his tickets the sooner he'd be done with him.

The long hallway opened up to reveal a large glass partition with twin doors which were propped open.  On the glass doors were big red letters, the call letters of the only rock station in Highland... WAZZ.  On the other side of the doors the room opened up even more.  Here they found themselves in a cushy waiting room decorated in the station's colors: orange, red, and black.  Dead center in the room was a circular desk, behind which stood a bored looking security guard and an equally bored receptionist.

"Welcome to WAZZ, home of all things rock in Highland," the raven haired receptionist rattled off with zero enthusiasm. "How can I assist you?"

James stepped up and leaned on the smooth black desktop. "Um, yeah, I uh just won some tickets to the Terminal Distrust concert."

The twenty-something woman spun in her seat and clacked her long pink fingernails on a computer keyboard. "Name please?"

"James."

The woman rolled her eyes. "Last name?"

"Oh, ah... Hobbs." James chuckled nervously. "Sorry."

"Congratulations, Mr. Hobbs." The woman spoke as if she were reading a technical manual. "I will need to see some ID and then I'll get you squared away with your tickets."

James dug in his back pocket for his wallet then slid his driver's license over the surface of the desk so she could examine it.

"Okay.  I'll just need you to sign these forms, be sure to initial the top and bottom of each page to verify that you have read and agree to the terms of this contest."

"Um... what terms?"

"Oh, just a standard legal agreement that states that if you should come to any bodily harm during tonight's concert that you will wave your right to sue WAZZ, our affiliate 3rd Eye Broadcasting, or our parent company Applied Dynamic Systems.  It's also an agreement that WAZZ has the right to broadcast your name as a winner of said contest.  It's all very simple."

Rob looked at the stack of legal documents and didn't believe it looked simple at all, but James was more than willing to sign away his rights for these tickets.  He read through the first three pages but by the fourth he was just scanning for the lines he needed to autograph.

As James got to work on the forms Rob took the opportunity to use the restroom.  On his way back out he walked right into someone who was carrying a large brown box and the two of them tumbled to the carpeted floor.

"OW!  Damn it!"

Rob hurried to get back on his feet.  His face burned red with embarrassment as he took in the carnage he'd caused.  The floor was strewn with the contents of the upended box.  Bumper stickers, promotional posters, and several dozen full color glossy head shots of a gorgeous redhead were just a few of the items now littering the hallway.  To Rob's shock and horror the subject of the photographs was also lying on the floor within the mess, and rather than immediately help her up he found himself staring at her openmouthed.

The stunning redhead kneeled on the floor while rubbing her cheek where the box had caught her on the way down.  She was much older than Rob, but didn't look any less attractive for her years.  She wore tight fitting jeans that accentuated her long lean legs, and a black lace blouse that offset her milky white skin.  Her breasts were not large by any means, but the cut of her blouse made it seem as if they would burst free at any moment.  Her arms were peppered with tiny freckles, as was the exposed portion of her cleavage, but a heavy coating of foundation helped to conceal the ones that dotted her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.  She wore a tiny silver cross attached to a thin necklace of gold that rested on her heaving chest.  Her deep red hair was pulled tightly into a long ponytail full of curls that whipped back and forth as she shook her head.

'I know her...' Rob's thoughts whirled around in his skull. 'How do I know her?'

"Doesn't anyone watch where they're fucking going anymore?" she grumbled as she opened her green eyes to look upon the ass-wipe who had knocked her down.

"Oh my God!" Rob snapped out of his daze and offered her a hand up. "I'm so sorry!"

The woman sighed. "Yeah, well... it's not entirely your fault.  I shouldn't have to lug this promo shit around with me.  Can you give me a hand?"

"Absolutely." Rob bent down and began to recover the box's contents, narrowly avoiding yet another collision with the woman as she too bent at the waist.

"Boy, our timing is really off," the woman smiled, and laughed as she bobbed back up just in time.  For a long moment she just stood there, gazing down at Rob with a perplexed expression. "Do you work here?"

"Nope." Rob carefully stacked her pictures and tapped the edges to line them up. "I'm just here to pick up some tickets."

"Huh, I could have sworn I met you before." The woman stood up straight and offered Rob her hand. "I'm Kayleigh."

"Rob." He was in the process of shaking her hand when he made the connection.  He had seen her before, but only in his imagination. "You're the woman I heard on the radio, aren't you?"

"You guessed it." She smiled as she rolled her eyes and pointed to her hair. "Kayleigh the 'flame' Roberts."

"Wow." Rob returned her smile. "It's nice to meet you."

"So, are you a fan of the show?"

Rob went back to work picking up the promotional material. "I hadn't heard it until today."

"So what did you think?"

"Well, I'm not really into that kind of music." Rob kicked himself for being so blunt then tried to cover his ass. "But I thought you were great."

"Ha!" Kayleigh playfully pushed him hard enough to almost cause him to lose his balance. "You were better off being honest; keep the fake flattery for those with low self-esteem."

Rob blushed and laughed at the same time. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Kayleigh stopped once more and stared at Rob. "You sure we've never met before?  You look so damn familiar."

Rob shook his head. "Not unless you've been out to Miflin."

"Miflin?   Is that where you're from?"

"Yep."

"Do you even get WAZZ out there?"

"No."

"So how'd you even know about the contest?"

"I didn't.  I was trying to get to Highland but my ride had to go somewhere else.  That's when I ran into James..."

"The guy out there hitting on Marla?"

Rob leaned back so he could peer around the corner, and sure enough there was James flirting really hard with the receptionist.  Apparently, whatever he was saying to her was working because the previously sullen woman was now smiling and twirling her hair with one finger.

"Yeah.   That's him," Rob sighed. "Man, how does he do that?"

"What?"

"Pick up girls." Rob shook his head. "He's such a douche bag, and yet he has all these girls hanging on his every word."

"Some girls are just into that sort of thing, I guess." Kayleigh spoke softly as her eyes stared off distantly, almost as if she were looking right through Marla. "We've been dating off and on for six months now, and I finally told her that I didn't trust that she was serious about us, that I thought she was more interested in the attention we got as a couple than in having a real relationship.  She told me she was done with men, but it looks like she's hopping the fence again, so I guess I was right to feel that way."

Kayleigh blinked a few times before blushing bright red. "Oh my god, I'm sorry.  I... I don't know why I just told you that.  I'm usually very private about... well, my personal life."

"Don't worry about it," Rob tried to put her at ease. "If she's even thinking about going out with him, then you dodged a bullet.  You could do a lot better."

Kayleigh made a funny face. "You're pretty mature for someone your age, and more open-minded than most of any age.  You didn't even flinch when I slipped about liking girls."

"You can't change who you're attracted too." Rob blushed and returned to picking things up. "You love who you love."

"Wow... a romantic too.  Some girl must be very lucky, or maybe... a special boy?"

Rob chuckled. "No, not a boy."

"But there is a girl?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"Well, whoever she is, if she doesn't see what a find you are, then she doesn't deserve you."

Rob hefted a smaller box full of pens with WAZZ printed on them into the larger box. "I'm still looking for her."

"Aww... don't worry, you'll find her." Kayleigh put and hand on his shoulder. "And when you do, don't let her go, don't ever let her go.  Tell her... tell her exactly how you feel... no matter what might happen... you have to let her know."

Rob got the feeling that she wasn't just telling him a cliché' but sharing sage advice about a mistake made in her own past.  He could see it in her eyes despite the warm smile that she hid behind, there was pain there, a missed opportunity, words left unspoken to someone she'd loved.  It left a hole inside of her that she'd been trying to fill ever since, but couldn't.  Rob felt his heart crushed by her loneliness, but he let it in... let it fill him with her warning.

"I will," he promised. "I'll let her know."

"Whoa!  What's up with me today?" Kayleigh ruffled his hair as a distraction from the single tear that almost found its way out of her eye. "Come on Rob, help me get this crap down to my car and I'll give you and your friend something special for tonight's concert."

"You don't have to do that." Rob picked up the box and juggled it a bit to find balance. "I don't mind carrying this for you.  Besides, I'm not even going to that concert."

"What?  But then why are you here?"

Rob nodded towards James who was now exchanging phone numbers with Marla. "He's giving me a lift to the Highland Plaza, but we stopped here first so he could pick up his tickets."

"So... you weren't the one I spoke to earlier on the phone?"

Rob didn't know what to say.  He didn't want to lie to her, but he wasn't sure how the contest rules worked and didn't want James to lose his reason for giving him a ride.  Technically, he reasoned, he didn't talk to Kayleigh; he'd dialed the number but handed the phone over to James without speaking, so it wasn't really lying.

"Uh... no.   That was James."

"You see now, that's funny, because I could have sworn when you said you were here to pick up the tickets that it was you I'd spoken to on the phone." Kayleigh shook her head as if dismissing some argument going on in her mind. "I keep getting this strange kind of déjà vu with you.  I'll figure out how I know you eventually, but it's going to drive me nuts in the meantime.

"Hey, wait a second..."

Kayleigh looked serious and Rob froze.  Inside he desperately hoped that she didn't remember reading the same newspaper articles that Greg meticulously kept in that binder.  If she started asking questions he wouldn't have any answers to give to her, and that might draw unwanted attention, especially if she decided to call the police about the boy who supposedly died in a house fire a year ago but was now standing alive and well in the WAZZ offices.

"You're going to the Highland Plaza?"

"Uh..." Rob stopped sweating. "Yeah."

"To the convention?"

"Yeah."

"So am I!" She nearly bounced in place with excitement, drawing the attention of everyone in the waiting area. "Good looking, open-minded, thoughtful, romantic, and interested in UFO's?  You're too good to be true!  Hell, keep it up and you might get me to start liking boys again."

This last part wasn't really to boost Rob's ego, but for Marla to overhear.  A point driven home when Kayleigh whirled around to face the guilty looking woman who pulled her hand free from James' grasp as if his touch burned.

"Hiya Marla!" Kayleigh spoke in an extremely chipper manner. "Meeting new friends?"

"Uh... yes." Marla tried to pull herself together. "This is Mr. Hobbs, our latest contest winner."

"It's so nice to meet you Mr. Hobbs." Kayleigh extended her hand and addressed James but her eyes remained on Marla. "I'm Kayleigh Roberts."

"Wow!  Kayleigh Roberts!  I'm your biggest fan!" James looked as if his eyes would pop out of his head once he got a glimpse of Kayleigh's chest.

"Why, thank you very much," Kay smiled while ignoring the fact that James was still staring at her breasts. "I was just speaking with your friend Rob.  If you're half as charming as he is then Marla is in for an exciting time."

"Uh, we... I mean... we're just..." Marla stammered.

"Oh please, Marla.  I know how much you've been looking forward to going to tonight's show, and how disappointed you were when you couldn't get tickets.  It's a good thing that James here has invited you along."

James looked confused. "I'm sorry, I... I already promised this ticket to someone else."

"Really?" Kayleigh pressed. "Another girl?"

"Yeah," James turned back to Marla. "But we could go do something else tomorrow if you want."

Marla looked lost.  Not only had she been busted picking up a guy, but the guy wasn't even single.  To make matters worse, James was totally oblivious to the tension between the two women.

"Well, I was going to surprise you..." Kayleigh made a big show of rolling her eyes as she dug into her purse and pulled out a ticket, "but I did manage to find you a seat after all, and look at that!  It's right next to the two tickets I just gave away!  The seat was meant for me, you know, so that I could meet my fans, but since I'm not going I thought you would enjoy it.  Lucky girl.  Now you, James, and his girl can all sit together!"

Marla gritted her teeth but took the offered ticket anyway. "Thank you, Kay."

"What are friends for, Marla?" Kayleigh smirked. "And James, I'm gonna give Rob a lift to the Plaza so you're off the hook."

"Wow!  Thanks!" This came as a welcome surprise for Rob, but James really seemed keen on the idea. "Now I can get home in time to get ready."

"You'd better dress to impress, young man..." Kayleigh dug around in her purse again. "Because the three of you..." She pulled out three laminated press passes that hung from a florescent green nylon necklace, "are going backstage to meet the band after the show!"

"Holy shit!" James nearly buckled to the floor. "Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack." Kayleigh shot Marla a look to kill as she tossed her one of the passes before handing James the other two. "Have fun tonight, James."

"Oh I most certainly will!" James was nearly hyperventilating. "I can't thank you enough!"

Kayleigh smiled and motioned for Rob to follow her out of the office but she couldn't resist one last comment. "And keep an eye on your girlfriend tonight, James.  Marla is quite the lady killer."

Rob and Kayleigh made it past the glass doors but not far enough away to miss James asking Marla if she was 'bi' and then saying more to himself than her, 'awesome'.

They'd nearly reached the elevators when Marla finally got in a zinger of her own, one loud enough for everyone in the office to hear. "Be sure to have a happy fortieth birthday tomorrow, Miss Roberts!"

Kayleigh stepped into the open elevator and waited for Rob before whispering. "Fucking bitch.  I'm never dating a younger woman again.  All a bunch of flakes with no idea who they are or what they want."

Rob re-shifted the heavy box in his arms. "You're going to be forty?"

Kayleigh sighed as the doors closed. "Yep."

"No way," Rob stated rather firmly. "Not a day past thirty, tops."

"You're sweet to say so, but I told you to save the flattery for those with low self-esteem."

"I was being serious," Rob smiled. "In the poetic words of my friend James, 'I'd do ya'."

Kayleigh broke down laughing. "Keep dreaming, young man.  Even if I swung that way, I'm no cradle robber."

The heat of the fire had welded parts of the door to its frame and would have sealed a normal human inside until cut free from outside, but Donovan wasn't normal.  As soon as the purple flames began to fade away he kicked open the door with enough force to send it flying across the lot.  The mage brought out to take care of the fire took a direct hit to his abdomen, knocking him to the ground and taking away both his breath and his concentration.  The violet fires erupted once again but not before Donovan made a safe escape.

"I want a progress report... NOW!"

One of the gathered soldiers stepped up immediately and began to follow Donovan as he made his way around the roaring inferno to the front of the building.  No one stopped to help the mage.

"Sir, no luck finding the girl, but we caught the boy on camera passing through the West Highland Bridge tolls.  He's with another man driving a red Camaro.  We traced the tags back to a James Hobbs, twenty-four years old, lives in Highland Park, works at a local High School as a custodial engineer.  We ran a standard connection analysis which came up empty; these two have never been tied to one another before.  However, records downloaded from Mystic Motors indicate that Mr. Hobbs had his vehicle in for a stereo installation.  Telecommunication monitoring picked up a phone call between Mr. Hobbs and a local FM radio program at 1:45 PM.  Mr. Hobbs won two tickets to a rock concert here tonight for a band called..." The soldier double checked his notes, "Terminal Distrust.  Local CCTV has detected and tracked Mr. Hobbs and the boy into downtown Highland where they've remained stationary for the past twenty minutes in front of the Pac-Life building."

"Why there?"

"Sorry Sir, that's where the radio station is located, WAZZ."

'What the hell is this kid up to?' Donovan wondered as he made his way to the new vehicle waiting for him. 'Is he going to this concert?  Is this all just a diversion?  What is he up to?'

"Send a team to..."

"Already on route with standing orders to kill on site."

"Very good." Donovan smiled to himself.

"Sir, the Council has been waiting for an update.  He's on vid-com for you."

"Good work soldier.  Wait for me here."

Donovan gnashed his teeth as he climbed into the driver's seat and closed the door.  As soon as he was settled the windshield blazed to life with the image of Hollister Broddick.

"Hello Donovan, glad to see you're free," the man smirked at him.

"A minor setback, Sir.   But we've made some progress in our search.  The boy is currently located at the Pac-Life building in downtown Highland.  Our agents are on the move to intercept."

Hollister almost seemed ready to laugh as he listened. "That's very good."

"Sir, is there something you're not telling me about this target?"

Hollister’s smirk became a broad grin. "I'm afraid the deck may have been unfairly stacked against you on this mission, Donovan."

"No Sir, I'll get the boy, I promise you... I will."

"What I meant to say, is that this game is very complex, with rules that can only be bent and twisted so much.  I fear that the boy will elude you no matter what you may do."

Donovan seethed with rage.  How dare this man equate what he did with some kind of a game. "With all due respect, Sir, I've never failed to take down a target, and I have no plans on letting this one slip through my grasp."

"Very well.   If completing this mission is that important to you, then by all means continue in your pursuit.  However, you have until eleven p.m. to complete this task.  If by then the boy still eludes you, then you are to break off the pursuit immediately and report directly to my office here in Highland.  I have some pressing business to attend to, and it will be imperative that you are with me.  Understood?"

"Yes Sir, twenty-three hundred hours.  I'll be there, and I'll have taken care of the target."

"I'm sure you will." Hollister’s grin suddenly vanished. "There is another matter that we need to discuss.  It would appear that Mr. Reynolds has proven himself to be equally difficult to remove.  Our strike team in Australia has been radio silent for far too long, I fear they may have failed to recover the artifact."

"What about our agent on Lone Wolf's team?  Have we lost contact with them?"

"They have yet to report in, but that would be normal procedure if our strike team did in fact fail to take down the target.  I'm sure we'll be hearing from them as soon as they can get access to a communications system without drawing suspicion.  These little hiccups were bound to happen, but will have little bearing in what's to come."

The man on the screen drew a deep breath and for a moment seemed lost in his own thoughts.

"Big things are about to happen, Donovan.  Plans that have been in motion for many years are now coming to fruition.  The time to decide our future is at hand, and that future includes you.  The only question is, are you ready to accept it?  Are you ready to take on the responsibilities of making this world a better place?  Are you ready to step out of the shadows and stand by my side?"

"Sir, I... I'm not sure what you're asking of me?  I've always be loyal to the Council, to our Country and its way of life.  I've served under your command ever since you persuaded the Council to keep the Advanced Soldier program alive.  I'm loyal to the cause, and so are my soldiers."

"I'm offering you an opportunity, Donovan, a chance to remodel the world in our own image, to do the very things you were created to do.  All I ask is that you continue to serve under me, but at a greater capacity."

"Sir?"

"A promotion, Donovan... I'm offering you a promotion." Now Hollister did laugh, a sound rarely heard by Donovan from this man. "How would you like to be the new head of US Central Command?"

"CENTCOM?" The offer stunned Donovan. "Sir, isn't that position the President's call?"

"Indeed it is, but I have it on good authority that things are about to change for the current administration." Hollister’s grin took on a knowing quality. "11 p.m. sharp, Donovan.  There is much to discuss."

"Yes Sir."

"Damn it!  I almost had it that time.  Now it's resorted to replicating itself to try and throw me off track. The full file name is Multi Access Binary Update and it's masquerading as a system file.  The identifier for the viral files is mabu.sys, find all occurrences and wipe them clean.  I'm going after the primary Trojan before it hides again."

"You got it; scanning the system files now."

"Scan everything, even the toaster in the commissary.  Anything that has even the slightest bit of computing power needs to be purged.  This thing spreads faster than the common cold and isn't picky about its host."

"I've blocked all networking ports within Aurora, except for the one into your brain.  Hope you came with a firewall installed."

"Don't worry about me, just keep the ship's anti-virus busy killing those decoy files and I'll be fine."

"That might be a little tricky since the anti-virus can't seem to detect them."

"I figured as much so I've been tagging them as the Trojan spits them out.  You'll need to write a new set of instructions for the anti-virus program.  Tell it to find and delete any file that contains my handle... KillSwitch."

"Uh... that won't work, Jimmy."

"Sure it will, just do it."

"No Jim, that will mark you as a target for deletion as well.  You should have tagged them with something else."

"No shit, Qian.  I tried that, but for some reason the virus will only allow my own identifier to be attached.  Must be another failsafe.  I'm already marked as an intruder by the system, so it doesn't really matter."

"Jim, you're marked as an intruder, it's still hunting for you, if I give it your identifier it'll be on you faster than..."

"It'll be too busy cleaning up all of those dummy files to come after me.  I'll have this thing trapped and be out of the system long before it can track me down."

"Yeah, cause you're doing such a bang-up job catching it so far."

"Qian, I don't have time to argue, just write the damn script."

"Okay, but once it's inputted, it'll only be a matter of time..."

"I understand the risk.  This is the only way to make sure we get the system clean."

"Okay..." With a shaking finger she tapped the enter key. "It's done."

Qian wiped sweat from her forehead and gave a quick glance around the room.  Everyone was staring at her, Jon especially.  After a few more keystrokes she turned and pointed out a display on an overhead monitor.

"The anti-virus has scanned the system and found over three-hundred files tagged with Jimmy's handle, er... user name, KillSwitch.  It's going through and deleting those files one at a time, however... Jimmy is one of those files."

"What do you mean?" Willis looked confused. "How can Jimmy be a file?"

Qian sighed. "By plugging himself in, he basically rewrote his consciousness, or a least a part of it, into a string of computer code.  It's what allows him to directly access the information in the database, but keeps him tied to his physical body.  Think of it like a lifeline or an umbilical cord.

"When the system first detected him, it launched a hunter program to track him down.  If it found that he was non-malicious it would have quarantined him, trapping his consciousness within the machine.  Dangerous, but not necessarily deadly; especially since I could have helped him from the outside.  But now we've just allowed the system to launch a hunter/killer program, one designed to wipe out intruders regardless of their intent."

"So..." Jon cocked his head as he stepped forward. "What happens if Jimmy's file is deleted by the system?"

"Don't know." Qian gave a little shrug. "But I'm sure it's not good.  No one's ever had his or her umbilical severed before, at least not that I know of.  Technically, it should leave him brain dead.  Theoretically, it could permanently separate his consciousness from his body.  He'd be a ghost in the machine, that is until the killer program wiped out what's left of him."

As Qian went back to her duties watching Jimmy's back, the rest of the soldiers in the room found their eyes locked on the numbers ticking away on the overhead monitor.

345 files found matching "KillSwitch"

16 files deleted

329 remaining... 328... 327... 326...