The motel room
had seemed a tight fit for two. Hosting all four of the team was pushing things a little too far. Ash scowled from the corner where he leaned against the door, while Jason stared off into space from his seat on the sink countertop.
Go sat on the edge of the bed, massaging his ankle, which Rosario had just wrapped in an ice pack. The swelling was ugly, but the discoloration was worse. He’d twisted it before, and he knew how long it would take to fully heal. The motel room smelled like a physical therapist’s office—thick with salves for deep heating and cooling and numbing.
The smells and the heat of four people seemed almost too much for the air conditioner, which gurgled and thrummed incessantly.
Rosario pulled a heat pack from the bedspread. “Leave it alone. Massaging isn’t going to change a thing.”
“It lets me know how bad it is.”
“It’s bad. And don’t mess with the bandage on your arm.”
He twisted his arm around to inspect the bandage. “Nah. That’s not so bad. Mostly numb now.”
Jason scooted along the countertop to get away from the sink as she rinsed the heat pack. “I really love what you’ve done with this place.”
She snarled into the mirror, maybe intending for Go to see it. “He doesn’t like extravagant spending.”
“Oh, I understand. I guess I like to spoil myself after a lifetime of spartan living, at least when I can. It’s not the smartest thing, but it’s my only real indulgence. That and this.” He held up his ADPAX.
Ash snorted. “And your sporty crawlers.”
“Oh, yeah. But those are expenses.”
Rosario dried her hands. “Anything?”
The driver frowned. “A million queries, and I rented as much processing power as I can afford, but nothing has finished yet.”
“But you’ve made progress, right?”
“Considering everything we found in that room, I say we’ve definitely made progress.”
She spread the towel on the countertop, then sat on the bed next to Go. “Christopher and Lilly plan to work through the night. She wouldn’t say it when she called, but I think they’re close to wrapping up.”
Ash guffawed. “Is that what they’re calling it?”
“They’re not having an affair, if that’s what you mean.”
“Maybe not while she was still married, but you know they’re doing some deep research right now.”
Go stretched his foot out, wincing at the pain. “Already eliminated that angle, mate.”
The security expert crossed his arms. “You did, huh? And when was that?”
“When his wife hired me to get pictures of the two of them in compromising positions.”
“That’s funny—I don’t recall you telling the rest of us that. Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”
“Not really. The only thing that was at stake was Christopher’s share.”
“No one else sees this as a problem?” Ash threw his arms up in disbelief. “Are you fucking serious?”
Go glanced at Rosario, who looked away. She was leaving it to him, which was fine. “I dunno, mate. Maybe you can help us define conflict of interest. Like working for Berti Lind. Seems to me, that might qualify as a conflict.”
“Hey, I’m good at making connections.”
“With scumbags.”
“Angels and devils—which one you think gives the best information? Huh? I can tell you which ones throw the best parties.”
“Yeah, I’d imagine so. But you’ve done more than cultivate connections, yeah?”
“I’ve helped us advance this case more than anyone.”
Rosario shook her head. “Stop. This isn’t a contest. We knew about Go working for Noelle Rackers. He told us about it earlier.”
Ash shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “We. Us. It’s funny, but it sounds like you mean you and Jason. Because, when I say we and us, I mean all of us.”
“There are trust issues, Ash. Don’t act like you don’t know that.”
“Yeah, well fuck you guys, okay?”
Go pushed up from the bed, shrugging off her grasp. He hopped over to Ash. “Settle down, mate.”
“Or what?”
“Don’t start. You heard what she said. This could all be over soon.”
The baldheaded man stroked his goatee. “I bet you can’t wait until it is.”
“Yeah. I think I’ve had my fill of you. That doesn’t mean we can’t act professional until it’s over.”
“Whatever.”
Jason whistled. “Hold on!”
Go hopped toward the counter. “You got something?”
“Some of the work I was doing reassembling the audit trails. A couple finished.”
“And?”
The driver blinked. “You’re—” He pushed a connection out to the others: heavily encrypted and tied to their earpieces. “You’re not going to believe this. I don’t know…” He shook his head.
A workspace appeared, and in that workspace, what must have been segments of the audit trails filled multiple windows. At the same time, a map of Puerta de Oeste appeared in another window, and fine lines of cyan traced what Go realized was the city’s Grid. Sections of the city were highlighted in gold.
Jason cleared his throat. “These audit trails come from different time periods. Some go back weeks, some come from tonight. I made some assumptions based on Go’s observation about those crates at the construction site, and that sped the process up.”
Ash grunted. “All right. What’s it mean?”
“You know how we’ve been saying this second Lancers team was behind a lot of things? Well, these audit trails tie back to all of those activities. But they also tie back to those images of Lilly. And to that vehicle we chased that night from the storage unit.”
“What? What’s the storage unit got to do—?”
“Those crates at the construction site. They were like the one we saw at the storage facility.”
“So? Crates are generic. People can print them out at any fabrication center, or they can buy them.”
“These all have the same RFC chips. They have the same identifying imprint. They were produced at the same facility, all at the same time.”
Rosario slid off the bed and hooked an arm around Go’s waste to support him. “So, these Lancers have been around for a while. They’ve been shipping things?”
Jason pinched his chin. “Let me provide another piece of information.”
“If it’ll help.”
“The audit trails—all of this activity going back weeks, including Lilly’s artifact ghosts—all ultimately originate from one place: the RPC office.”
“The RPC—?” Rosario’s fingers dug into Go’s abdominal muscles. “How?”
Go swallowed. “The OMI. Ah, hell! Do we have the RPC project plan still?”
Jason’s head jerked side to side, then the OMI project plan from the first meeting appeared in the workspace. “This isn’t detailed and doesn’t have—”
“Yeah, yeah. Highlight the milestones.”
From the different lines within the project, several expanded until the text was clear. “These are the milestones that weren’t redacted.”
“This one from the first prototype test: Compare the date to when these ghosts artifacts began.”
Sections of the audit trails grew bright. Jason’s jaw dropped. “They started almost immediately after.”
“What’s that first milestone?”
“Um. Test full mind duplication.”
“And the others?”
“Similar. Duplication. Facility testing. Comprehension. And after each prototype test, the activity intensified.”
Go kissed Rosario on the cheek. “Don’t punch me, love. Jason, bring up those images of Lilly again.”
Rosario scowled as the driver loaded the various images, many of which he hadn’t shown before and were much more explicit. Her fingers pressed hard against Go’s belly. “Do you really need—”
“Just a second. Look at them. They’re not just ideal for blackmail. They’re—”
“Sexual. I know.”
“Intimate, love. The sort of images a hurting husband might keep of the wife who has no time for him.”
The light seemed to go on for her. “Are you saying this hacker was Harry Cho?”
“A copy of him, yeah. Jason, you said this OMI would be used for advanced telepresence.”
Jason nodded. “Complete transfer of awareness. That’s how you run more advanced proxies. But when you’re done, that awareness is transferred back into the body. You don’t leave a copy—”
“Yeah, this is a prototype. Maybe they don’t have all the kinks worked out. And maybe Harry Cho is brain-dead, but there could be a copy of him out there on the Grid.”
“A complete copy of his mind that’s been sabotaging their research and leaking data.” The driver’s jaw dropped. “Oh.”
Go hobbled back to the bed and tore off the cold pack. “And that copy is in the RPC office somewhere. Call Christopher and Lilly and tell them to get out of there.”
Rosario tapped her earpiece. “On it.”
With the twisted ankle, Go’s sneaker was an ugly fit. He froze halfway into securing it: Rosario was shaking her head. “No answer?”
“Nothing.”
“We need to get to their office. Now.”