Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Totalled ❯ State Bank ( Chapter 4 )

Chapter 4 State Bank

 

We finally made it to the underground cellar in the old abandoned warehouse on 5th street and Grid 3 that had been firebombed in the 20's and nothing had been done to fix it up. Structurally, it looked as if it were about to crumble at any given notice but our ancestors knew how to build. Our only observers were the rats and mice that fought for control of the place.

 

Jerr settled himself beside the old com-vid. In our spare time back in Trooper training, we had found this place. Jerr had built up the system from mangled hardware, overriding system designed cutoffs and specs. In the end, this baby was more efficient than anything on the market today, even if looking at made it seem like a pile of wasted computer parts. Jerr was more the electronics expert than I, and had kept on improving the system. I hadn't expected Internal or the State Bank to have a trace on it and I was right.

 

Jerr turned it on and I loaded in the scrambling program.. Once the main security clearance was established, I stepped up and skipped security level to Alpha Red. I crossed my fingers and waited for the codes to be accepted. The screen blacked for a second then settled in the IA format at the requested level.

 

"Access Atlas."

 

(Searching...)

 

"Jerr, get out the line of sight." I warned softly as the glow of the telcom turned from a comforting green to a menacing red.

 

(Atlas files. Set Parameters.)

 

"All - visual and download. Status. Commence now."

 

(Atlas, code name of Steven Joseph Banks, born August 4, 1994 to Joseph and Edith Banks, subdirectory on Edith Louise Milton. Photograph at time of initial contact...} A teenager's face flashed on the screen, in the standard pose of school photographs. The face wasn't smiling, there was a hard intense look to the dark brown eyes.. There was something about the eyes... {2011 at District 117, Grid 12...}

 

"Stop!" Jerr looked over at me his face was pale. "Jees..."

 

"What."

 

"Scroll to end of document."

 

{Recommendation: Re-education and foster placement. Active 2014 - current}

 

"What?" I questioned quickly.

 

"Pull up the last photograph." Jerr pushed his way in beside me. His hands flew over the keyboard. "I'm going to age this thing to the current date."

 

 

It felt like someone reached around me, pulled the chair back and twisted me out of it as I watched the screen. It turned into a mirror. It was my IA security photo. I had to force myself to stop rushing for the exit. I didn't need Jerr's silence to confirm what I wanted to deny.

 

"Who the hell are you?" I was staring at the photo as he scrolled, "This was a TOTAL personality replacement. I've never heard of one of these. How the hell would the blackshirts know how to do this?"

 

"Jerr...it's me." It took more effort than I cared to admit to myself to get up from the chair and walk twelve careful steps away from the glow of the screen. The com aged photograph was still there. It as was if I had just inserted my laser ID. "Why are they accessing my re-ed file?

 

"Who is doing what?"

 

"Fringe group...tracking a fringe group."

 

"What did you do?"

 

"Don't know. Scroll back."

 

{Arson, murder, assault, system tampering,, Deletion of State bank main frame...}

 

Cold perspire beaded on my forehead. I could feel myself wetting my shirt to my skin, front, back and under the arms. My life was a lie...not a half truth, or white lie, but everything...absolutely everything was programmed into me.

 

A green light flashed on, illuminating both of us in it's glow. "We're being tracked. Switching on secondary scrambler." Jerr's hands flew over the keyboard. The light changed to a yellow. "They locked on. It's just a matter of time. If there's something you gotta know, we find it now. Milty...snap out of it. We'll get a laser blast through the skull if we get caught here."

 

" Get out of here, Jerr."

 

"We're okay until the light turns red....Downloading..." I could hear the hard drive saving..

 

The security light began to glow blood crimson. I snapped back into time, "That's it." I killed the power, "Get the disk."

 

Jerr popped it out, "I don't think we got everything."

 

"No time." Jerr slid out of the way as I powered up the needlebeamer to highest setting. It only took seconds of power to reduce the terminal to nothing but a smoldering heap of plastic and wires, "Give me the disk, and get your ass out of here. Stay close to the exposed metal in these old buildings. It pays havoc with the sensors."

 

"I thought sensors didn't work down here."

 

"We're talking about Internal. Troopers have got the dregs of technology, if you get my meaning. Go!."

 

"If you need anything..Milty..Banks."

 

"You've done enough now get moving." I stepped back and fired a blast into the heart of the machinery again, leaving the beam on longer to erase any latent memory that would remain if there was a reclamation.. My eyes burned with the after flash, little dots of a black brightness that seemed etched forever in my eyes. When I finally could make out the room again, Jerr was gone.

 

 

Off in the distance, the baying of the mechanical trackers started up just on the outskirts of the building. If I tried to run, Jerr would get tagged. The weight of the disk was like an iron pipe in my hand. Slipping it into my vest, I knelt beside the ruined com-vid with my needlebeamer across my lap, and waited for the approaching agents. Sweat slid into my eyes and stung. I hoped the Trackers were on leads. Those razor teeth could rip through personal armour with the ease of a paper cutter through matt paper. The tracker pulled it's way through the small opening, it's hunched back scrapped metallically on the exposed steel trestle. In the glow of the burning telcom, I raised my beamer and centred on the small head. If the handler didn't identify me as an Agent before that tracker pulled itself through, I would have one shot before it got to me. The small laser scope switched on. The pinpoints of darkness were still playing havoc with my vision. The red laser light locked onto the tracker's vid-cam eyes. If I could short out the visual tracking system, it would have a harder time finding me.

 

The rear haunches cleared the opening. "INTERNAL!" My voice sounded unnaturally calm to my ears. It was in horrific slow motion as I watched the rear pistons pull back for the bounding leap that would cut the distance between us in half. My finger tightened on the trigger. The sharp wine of power down was a sweet symphony. The demonic red glow of the eyes dulled to a red sheen. The beast moved docilely out of the way as the handler came through the opening.

 

"Who gave you authorization to interfere with my operations!" I had noticed that those with the loudest voices and willingness to use force were the powers to be reckoned with inside Internal. "I want your ID Cipher and your operating code now."

 

"Who..."

 

"Agent Hacker, sector 9"

 

"You're in sector 3..."

 

"Security Code red. You just fragged up a telcom site I've been monitoring for months. Cipher!"

 

Even in the pale light, I could see my fellow Internal agent blanch. Code Red was a walking god. "Dogboy, Sector 3, level 1,a"

 

"Frag, I got busted by a greeny?" I brought my laser up. switching the site on so he could see the red pinpoint on his chest. I could see his list of options run through his head, his fingers twitched for a motion, debating whether or not he could re-activate the tracker before I got my shot off. He pulled his hands away carefully. "Give me your hard ID."

 

"But..."

 

"Now!" He fumbled in his vest pocket and pulled out a thin holographic card. It was simply amazing that one's life could be recorded so neatly on a piece of plastic. I reached out and grabbed it from his hands, keeping my laser trained on him. "The way I see it, Dogboy, we're both in a sling. If my DC finds out that my bust came up nothing, it'll be the end of me...but I don't intend on going down alone."

 

"My credits..." His voice cracked.

 

"Don't frag around with me, dogboy. I'm tracking you as of now, greeny. If you think your mechno-dog can cause some damage just try crossing me." I didn't feel anything as the thin man backed away. I shouldn't condemn him for fulfilling his duties, tracking down fugitives, when I was one of the ones that made work for him. Still, my recommendations didn't leave the condemned in tiny bloody pieces. As soon as the sounds of the servos disappeared, I took out my laser and fried the card. It was a gesture full of spite but it was satisfying.

 

 

I was able to put off thinking until I got back to my apartment. The weight of the disk was like a iron block. It burnt my chest were it rubbed. I knew more than I wanted to. Steven Joseph Banks. A ghost from a past that had been totally obliterated. Why? Total personality replacement. Why? The desire to be a Trooper had to be an implant. Why? What did Tesa want with it? Why? Why was Siren guarding it? What was going on? Why? Why?

 

I took the disk out and looked at it. The answers were right here. I knew what I had become, but what was I originally? Did I really want to know? Did I still have family? Brothers? Sisters? Could I have a life other than this? Why was Alan accessing it regularly? Did Tesa know what it was? I stripped off the sweaty black body armour until I could sit in the chair naked. I picked up the disk and looked at. It didn't seem any different from the thousands of others I had held before. The data on this was devastating.

 

Siren's cool voice stopped me, hand in mid air as I reached to insert the disk. "I don't think that would be a wise move, Agent Hacker. It's now 1830 hours, you are late for our appointment. When I activated your cipher, you were down in the sublevel of grid 94 - well out of your current jurisdiction and I was wondering what you were doing. Then I get a report in that a tracker and his handler ran into an agent in the exact same area, with a melted illegal terminal. Then my alarms go off -- a little late-- that someone got into Alpha Red files....Atlas. Toss the disk my way. *

 

*If you had come to me at the appropriate time, Agent Hacker I might have overlooked what you were doing. I tend to be a little indulgent to my entertainment."

 

The disk left my fingers in a gentle arc. It thudded to the carpet with the force of a dead man.

 

"Sentencing?"

 

"Retirement."

 

"I thought so." I was so calm. So cool. So like the agent that Internal had trained me to be. "Why? Why was Stephen Banks killed?"

 

"How unfortunate, Hacker. I had hoped that you hadn't looked at the file, yet. This is

will make it much more difficult for you. However, since this information will never leave this room you can ask all the whys you want. Why was Banks killed? You were an experiment - plain and simple. The idea was to reform the criminal element as quickly and as cost effectively as possible. Locking Banks up was a waste of personnel and a drain on the state and wouldn't help him reform.

 

*As you know, you've got a total replacement - however after you, it turned out that total personality replacement was not possible. Trace memories returned faster than the scientists expected. A lot of re-creates committed suicide. The new personality was unable to over ride the old. The matrix of the brain wasn't set up to take brand new instructions -- it likes a little tweaking. But you, you little menace, took it - and it stayed for twenty-five years. The only visible side effect is your alcoholism but that is always monitored. Now, I wonder why when all of the other experiments have killed themselves or have been killed, you set out to be the boy wonder of law enforcement?

 

"I thought Re-Eds weren't allowed into enforcement professions if they've have more than 15% done."

 

 

Siren smiled at me, "Before Harry Milton was born, Banks set a six year old girl ablaze, you said you wanted to see the colours of her hair. You burnt a twelve story tenement building after wielding the escape doors closed just because you wanted to see if humans were smarter than rats. 193 people died in that fire. You were a fraggin' nightmare, even by Internal standards. So when the judge gave you life, they decided that you were the perfect experimental rat. The Re-Eds gave you a morals code that was so strong there was nothing you could be but a Trooper or a Priest. And from what I*ve seen of your sex life, you wouldn*t make it as a Priest.

 

Your Trooper record was outstanding I was mistaken thinking that the same morals code could be of assistance to us in Internal Affairs. You were designed to be a Trooper and you were damn good at it, until Trooper Anderson showed up. Little fringe girl with her own agenda that almost killed the Commissioner and got you walking down the wrong path. With this little incident now, I will have to take full responsibility for the breakdown of the original programming. I thought that you would be good for IA, but you have proven me wrong." Siren gave a sigh.

 

"Who the hell am I?"

 

"That's the big money question, isn't it?" The laser scope of Siren's needle beam turned my world to bright red as it centred between my eyes. In my mind, I could see the pressure of the trigger on her finger. I could feel it in my hands. "Without thinking about it. Answer me one question. It just might make your death less painful." I could see the slow smile crept across her face, "Tell me what you want right now, a drink or a smoke?"

 

"A smoke."

 

"Wrong answer."

 

She shot me between the eyes.