her.
“No! No, no, no!”
* * *
Lucius all but collapses from the strain, peeling the Tap from his head, intent on an angry confrontation with his nurse for ending the session—only to find her held back by men in military uniforms.
General Korin completes the disconnection of the Tap feed, tossing the cable to one side.
Lucius and Korin just stare at each other, Lucius wracked with despair.
Korin barks out his orders. “I want him secured at the facility inside of fifteen minutes.”
A stretcher is wheeled alongside Lucius’s bed, as Jenner appears with a medication gun, administering an injection without pause. Lucius groans.
“What are you doing?” the nurse bleats.
“Resuming Dr. Gray’s treatment,” Korin’s demeanor detached and cold.
“Should be enough to stabilize him,” Jenner says. “There will be a lot of pain.”
“Sedate him. Pain management when we get there.”
“You can’t do this,” shouts the nurse. “Dr. Gray has an advance directive.”
“This is in the interests of national security and is for his own protection.” Korin sweeps out of the apartment as his men lift Lucius onto the stretcher.
* * *
Garr is incandescent with anger. The projection has gone, but not before they witnessed Korin’s treachery. Still, she has assets of her own.
“Commander Torrence. Have Lieutenant Reese watch Lucy. He is not to let her out of his sight. I suggest he keeps his distance.”
A now composed Torrence replies over the speakers. “Understood.”
Landelle, too, has gathered herself.
“We need to get down there,” Garr says to her.
“This area is still gridlocked,” Landelle says. “It’s this building—trouble here has the whole city spooked. There’s widespread panic and the National Guard are evacuating Manhattan from the south.”
A frustrated Garr is momentarily at a loss. Then an idea.
“Dr. Boyce, Dr. Moule—”
REVENGE
Eyes narrowed, brow furrowed with anger, Lucy monitors police radio bands and city-wide information channels. She manifests a map—no markers. She looks darkly out of the VTOL’s forward windows. The cityscape reappears one chunk at a time.
With the simulation fully re-established, she scours it—every surveillance camera, media channel, weather station she can find—only this time far more than she managed before. A multitude of images flash before, all different angles and viewpoints.
A marker appears on her map, an image next to it. Reese’s VTOL perched on a rooftop not far away.
Lucy’s mood darkens even deeper, and she puts her childish ways behind her.
From his vantage point, a block or so away, Reese sees Lucy lift off.
“She’s on the move.”
He brings his own engines up to speed, gives Lucy a moment, and then lifts off himself. Ahead, Lucy descends back into the forest of buildings and out of sight.
“Christ, now what?”
He follows her down. Cautiously he takes his VTOL between the buildings to search for her. This area of the city has all but emptied, the panic further north having spread quickly. It should be easier to spot her VTOL. But Reese hasn’t thought for a moment that the hunter might become the hunted and right behind him Lucy’s VTOL rises stealthily from below.
A marker blinks on Reese’s map display. Realization dawns.
“Shit!”
He punches his thrusters to push forward, Lucy’s VTOL immediately surging after him. Now it’s Reese who weaves among the skyscrapers, skirting perilously close to one, a tight turn around another, Lucy hot on his tail, impossible to shake.
There’s a reason she needs to get close.
Alarms sound on his flight console. The autopilot has activated. It’s flicking through a series of options.
“What the hell? God, she’s in the flight systems.”
“Attention,” announces the autopilot. “Attention. Autopilot engaging. Emergency controlled descent.”
A shrill alarm accompanies said descent. Ahead is an open area—a plaza. The ground is coming up fast, the
“No! No, no, no!”
* * *
Lucius all but collapses from the strain, peeling the Tap from his head, intent on an angry confrontation with his nurse for ending the session—only to find her held back by men in military uniforms.
General Korin completes the disconnection of the Tap feed, tossing the cable to one side.
Lucius and Korin just stare at each other, Lucius wracked with despair.
Korin barks out his orders. “I want him secured at the facility inside of fifteen minutes.”
A stretcher is wheeled alongside Lucius’s bed, as Jenner appears with a medication gun, administering an injection without pause. Lucius groans.
“What are you doing?” the nurse bleats.
“Resuming Dr. Gray’s treatment,” Korin’s demeanor detached and cold.
“Should be enough to stabilize him,” Jenner says. “There will be a lot of pain.”
“Sedate him. Pain management when we get there.”
“You can’t do this,” shouts the nurse. “Dr. Gray has an advance directive.”
“This is in the interests of national security and is for his own protection.” Korin sweeps out of the apartment as his men lift Lucius onto the stretcher.
* * *
Garr is incandescent with anger. The projection has gone, but not before they witnessed Korin’s treachery. Still, she has assets of her own.
“Commander Torrence. Have Lieutenant Reese watch Lucy. He is not to let her out of his sight. I suggest he keeps his distance.”
A now composed Torrence replies over the speakers. “Understood.”
Landelle, too, has gathered herself.
“We need to get down there,” Garr says to her.
“This area is still gridlocked,” Landelle says. “It’s this building—trouble here has the whole city spooked. There’s widespread panic and the National Guard are evacuating Manhattan from the south.”
A frustrated Garr is momentarily at a loss. Then an idea.
“Dr. Boyce, Dr. Moule—”
REVENGE
Eyes narrowed, brow furrowed with anger, Lucy monitors police radio bands and city-wide information channels. She manifests a map—no markers. She looks darkly out of the VTOL’s forward windows. The cityscape reappears one chunk at a time.
With the simulation fully re-established, she scours it—every surveillance camera, media channel, weather station she can find—only this time far more than she managed before. A multitude of images flash before, all different angles and viewpoints.
A marker appears on her map, an image next to it. Reese’s VTOL perched on a rooftop not far away.
Lucy’s mood darkens even deeper, and she puts her childish ways behind her.
From his vantage point, a block or so away, Reese sees Lucy lift off.
“She’s on the move.”
He brings his own engines up to speed, gives Lucy a moment, and then lifts off himself. Ahead, Lucy descends back into the forest of buildings and out of sight.
“Christ, now what?”
He follows her down. Cautiously he takes his VTOL between the buildings to search for her. This area of the city has all but emptied, the panic further north having spread quickly. It should be easier to spot her VTOL. But Reese hasn’t thought for a moment that the hunter might become the hunted and right behind him Lucy’s VTOL rises stealthily from below.
A marker blinks on Reese’s map display. Realization dawns.
“Shit!”
He punches his thrusters to push forward, Lucy’s VTOL immediately surging after him. Now it’s Reese who weaves among the skyscrapers, skirting perilously close to one, a tight turn around another, Lucy hot on his tail, impossible to shake.
There’s a reason she needs to get close.
Alarms sound on his flight console. The autopilot has activated. It’s flicking through a series of options.
“What the hell? God, she’s in the flight systems.”
“Attention,” announces the autopilot. “Attention. Autopilot engaging. Emergency controlled descent.”
A shrill alarm accompanies said descent. Ahead is an open area—a plaza. The ground is coming up fast, the
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