Hardwired Faith (The Exoskeleton Codex Book 1) Read online

  Hardwired Faith

  The Exoskeleton Codex

  Book 1 of 8

  Sean Kennedy

  Author: Sean Kennedy

  Date Published: 13 May 2017

  Copyright © Sean Kennedy 2017

  © 2017 Sean Kennedy. All rights reserved. This material may not be reproduced, displayed, modified or distributed without the prior and express written permission of the copyright holder.

  Chapter 1

  Only the wiped sit quietly when going to quarantine. The wipe takes memories, and tetrazine does the rest.

  “It’s for your own good,” they told him. His memories were too painful, and there were the intellectual property issues from the arcology takeover. A clean mind was better for a fresh start.

  “You’ll like it on the coast,” they said, and with the caress of ivory pills, Jacob believed them.

  Sixty seven hours ago, with his head freshly shaved from the wipe, Jacob was told his parents had followed in the footsteps of mankind's greatest heroes, making the ultimate sacrifice as their ship, the Guanyin, was lost during a mission jump.

  More tetrazine.

  Pills when he got up, pills after he ate, and still more pills when they walked him to the great elevator. He was being treated very fairly, and everyone told him so, usually just before saying how much he’d love the coast.

  They loaded him into an autopod, feeding him more pills before slipping a fresh bottle into his white blazer’s pocket. They slapped twice on the autopod’s roof after closing the door, and Jacob watched smiling strangers wave as he pulled out of the cavernous loading docks.

  He waved back, reflecting their vacant eyes and happy smiles, expressions programmed so deeply they’d become authentic.

  From its vast garage loading base, the arcology’s great glass ecosystem grew ever taller, like a great mirrored column washing itself in the reflected sky. Jacob watched the only home he’d ever known float away and felt ...nothing. He couldn't find even one remaining sign of the life they wiped away. There was only the gentle growl of the autopod tires against the road as he let himself melt into a backseat tetrazine numb.

  It was late afternoon before Jacob realized he was staring at chain-link poles shuttering beyond the autopod window as slice-wire skipped above posts like racing serpents in the sun.

  He fumbled for more tetrazine from the breast pocket bottle. He quickly shook out two more tiny pills into his hand and popped them, snapping the lid shut as he closed his mouth.

  The candy coating let them slide down his throat, and he nestled back into the autopod seat, away from the slithering world.

  Deep City’s ambient reports came from the autopod’s scanner with an urgent voice.

  “...denying Redwater docking privileges as online rights-riots continue to erupt. The Minister said having Redwater so close to Deep City was too great an insurance risk, as so many residents already struggle with insurance premiums.

  Rights-rioters claim Redwater’s systems have rights under the sentient civilian act, and the city’s rejection is corporate revenge for Redwater’s controversial disaster intervention policies...”

  The reports slurred into road wash as the tetrazine took hold.

  A moment later, two hours had gone by, and soft static hissed as the scanner searched empty channels.

  Beyond the autopod windows, marine wreckage now littered a junkyard landscape. Wiry scrag-brush grew in the stained dirt between great boats and small ships, creating long shadows that hid abandoned equipment. Discarded packaging blew into trash piles like leaves, catching to flutter like prayer flags on ship lines and lopsided antennas.

  The autopod shuddered as it passed the road’s paved border and onto hard packed dirt. A huge plastic storage tank, like a gigantic blue pill, zipped by at the roadside. Jacob fixated on its strange brightness among the shattered hulls and broken masts of the gray landscape.

  Carefully arranged piles of abandoned cargo appeared like a forest of stumps at the side of the road ahead. Jacob saw all manner of salvaged cargo woven together. Table lamps, bright plastic coolers, industrial kitchen appliances, vacuums, and high-pressure equipment were all tangled together like self-supporting totems against the horizon of long grounded ships.

  More stacks appeared, each one twice the height of a grown man and with enough precision cleared ground between them that the autopod might fit, if it drove carefully enough.

  The autopod followed the roadway through the forest of salvaged cargo, to where it ended in a wide circle around a tall single stack.

  A marine power loader squatted like a sumo forklift next to a solitary cargo column, its empty cab sitting between extended folded knees like a boxy frog on giant wheeled feet.

  “You have arrived at your destination.” A voice cheerfully announced, and a ten-second countdown appeared on the glass.

  When the timer ran out, The voice said, “Please exit the vehicle now.”

  Jacob stared out of his air-conditioned capsule, stuck for a moment before the tetrazine made him obey. After a suicidal push on the gull wing door, the quarantine zone’s atmosphere washed over him. Jacob retched and doubled over from the thick stench of petroleum. He gagged and in that moment, knew his arcology clothing would never be white again.

  The gull wing door shut behind him with an air sucking clap. He reached into his blazer pocket and withdrew the factory fresh augmented reality iGlasses Shidoshi had given him as a parting gift. He slipped electrode arms over his temples, and once they detected his brainwave activity, the iGlasses tried to connect with the Immersion AR network

  It displayed the unfortunate news that his Shidoshi iGlasses licensing did not support network connections in the quarantine zone. A helpful arrow indicated the glasses would work if he traveled 11.25 miles back the way he came.

  “Please accept your possessions at the rear of the vehicle.” A voice floated up from the autopod grill. Jacob obeyed, leaving his glasses on. The flashing cursor in the upper left corner of his vision was comforting, like a heartbeat.

  The utility arm in the autopod’s trunk placed a small space locker on the pressed dust before returning with a plate sized netscreen emblazoned with the Shidoshi Corporate logo. It laid the screen on the small airtight trunk before folding itself away.

  A sudden electric hum triggered the egglike autopod into motion. It maneuvered around the center stack, past the empty loader, and back along the same highlighted path to where Jacob’s iGlasses would work.

  Nothing yielded a rattle to the wind’s caress as stillness settled through the cargo columns. Jacob’s attention was drawn to the bright yellow harness seat within the sheltered cab of the cargo loader’s frog body. Powerful pincers held by double jointed arms could lift cargo into the tight spaces of modern shipping docks.

  Jacob took a few steps toward the loader's seat. He thought about reaching up and climbing inside, but the pills made him dizzy and he stopped at its shrouded foot.

  The wash of losing everything remained mildly pleasant without memory. The drugs held him as time’s numb slide made his long shadow longer. The sun was farther across the sky when he finally reached into his pocket for another pill.

  “You're a ways out,” an Irish voice said.

  Jacob wanted to look around, but it was so much effort, and besides, he was still staring at his space locker, trying to recognize it.

  “Are ya sick lad?” the soft voice asked.

  “No, I’m fine,” the tetrazine said, “thank you.”

  “Well now, that’s not what the sunburn you're working on says,” the voice said, and dusty black boots stepped into his view.

&nbs
p; The boots were overlapped by technical coveralls, patched with colorful mission badges that stretched up the wiry frame of a tall, weathered man, as lean and loose as a bouncing road chain.

  Under the shodō symbols for ‘Kaizen’ on a gray ball cap, his dark eyes twitched behind a long nose and hawkish features. A loose A/VR mask hung like racing goggles around his neck.

  “Where did your ride go?” the tall man asked as he stepped into the slight shade of the cul-de-sac’s central cargo stack.

  “Gone,” Jacob said.

  The tall man squinted, his trembling eyes stalled a moment as he peered down.

  “Gone...” the tall man repeated, “ ...but where’s your parents?”

  “Gone,” Jacob said again.

  The tall man squinted so his eyes looked closed and whispered, “what’s your name lad?”

  “Jacob Faith,”

  The tall man stiffened. After a few stationary moments, he said, “you better come into the shade, Jacob.”

  Jacob stood, walked over, lifting the handle of the old locker he’d been staring at. As it shifted, the Shidoshi netscreen slid off and landed on the hardpack dirt. Jacob ignored it as he mechanically rolled the locker into the stack’s shade. The tall man watched Jacob move and sit on his locker before picking up the netscreen, activating it.

  Jacob saw a projected image of a woman appear in the shade of the stack. The tall man expertly snapped his goggles up under the Kaizen cap’s brim with a single practiced motion. Jacob’s iGlasses still had enough functionality to solidify the image:

  “Greetings from Shidoshi Corporation.” The ghostly corporate image began.

  “Due to the unfortunate loss of Jonah and Margaret Faith aboard the vessel Guanyin; and in accordance with Shidoshi Corporation’s generous policies, all unplaced minors will be returned at no expense to their immediate next of kin.”

  “It has been determined that the minor, Jacob Faith, is best served in the care and guardianship of his mother's brother, Vincent Slate, currently residing in the Pacific quarantine zone. This simtelligence interface has been provided to answer any questions you may have in order to ease this transition. In this tragic time...”

  As the augmented reality hologram went on, the tall man reached into the side pocket of his coveralls and withdrew a small pill bottle. He popped the top as he listened to the projection explain Jacob’s legal custody, but when he shook the bottle nothing came out.

  Jacob fished into his pocket and held out his own bottle of pills. The tall man paused and gently took the bottle, reading the tiny label as she droned on.

  “... jump gate accidents are an unfortunate part of space exploration, and while Shidoshi Corporation leads the world in safety standards, sometimes...”

  “They got you on some pretty heavy tranqs little man...” The tall man said over the hologram’s speech.

  “What’s a tranq?” Jacob asked.

  “...the sacrifice of Jonah and Margaret Faith, along with the sacrifice of every member of the Guanyin crew...”

  The tall man stared at Jacob, “how old are you lad?”

  “I'm fourteen.” Jacob said, and the tall man gave Jacob back the small pill bottle, keeping his eyes on him.

  “...is pre-registered to the Alcazar Reorientation Facility. Unfortunately, beyond this already generous act, Shidoshi cannot offer any financial compensation...”

  The tall man touched the netscreen and the ghost vanished mid-sentence as Jacob took another ivory pill.

  “Well now...” the man whispered and shook his head. Jacob watched him through heavy eyelids.

  “That’s a bastard,” the tall man whispered, and started to breathe a little faster, as if trying to speed his brain up. Jacob thought he would’ve felt better about it if he’d taken an ivory pill.

  He leaned against Jacob’s cargo column, “that’s a real bastard, Jacob.”

  “Sorry,” was the only thing Jacob could think to say, but as the apology left Jacob’s lips, the tall man came alive.

  “What’re you sorry for?” he smiled the same way everyone else had over the last two days. The tall man's knees folded and he dropped to Jacob’s eye level like a landing buzzard.

  “You can call me Mac,” he said, and still holding the netscreen, reached to take the handle of Jacob’s small space locker.

  “C’mon then, let’s get you into the house and meet your uncle, yeah?”

  Jacob stood up slowly as Mac easily lifted the locker, gesturing with the netscreen to follow. “This way.”

  As they moved through the cargo stacks, the twisting spires seemed to shift revealing a large farmhouse with a cathedral turret, like a lighthouse overlooking a sea of cargo stacks.

  The house was an eclectic collection of colors, styles, and materials. Some of the veranda’s railing spindles were black iron, others red cedar spirals, and still others painted in all manner of vibrant colors. White siding covered some of the outside wall space, butting up against shining aluminium or faux stone sheets in patchwork transitions.

  The wide front steps were as sturdy as they were mismatched. The first step was stone, the next a concrete slab, then a steel beam, followed by carbon fiber as they ascended to the veranda.

  Front double doors of polished wood were set into a steel and walnut frame. The left door was angular, with Art Deco cut glass that stood in stark contrast to the swirling Parisian Art Nouveau design on the right; a tangled tree that caught the eye in stained glass branches.

  Jacob followed Mac up the steps through the unlocked angular door, clicking it shut behind him. The petroleum stench lessened, replaced by the lemon of a citrus based cleaner.

  He stepped across a hardwood threshold, and their footsteps echoed throughout the house’s large entrance hall. To his right, the living room furniture was a mixture of Edwardian and Victorian chairs sitting on ornate eastern rugs, with last-century modern lamps illuminating small end tables beside each.

  Jacob couldn’t see a speck of dust or dirt anywhere on the rich wood or fabrics, and the jumble of style made the house’s pristine cleanliness even more surreal.

  Mac put the space locker down before walking through to a doorway on the far wall where light bounced off bright kitchen tiles. Past the open door frame, Jacob saw someone lying on the floor.

  Just as he stepped closer, Mac filled the doorway. “Let's get upstairs then.” Mac said, and hurried Jacob back, blocking the view with his scarecrow body.

  Mac picked up Jacob’s locker and led him to a narrow closet doorway. Beyond, a spiral staircase hid where the window’s light couldn't reach.

  As they started to climb, thin rope lighting flickered and washed the tight stairs in a slight glow. The stairway’s tight turn transformed Mac into a giant leading him up into a dungeon tower, and Jacob smiled at the fairy tale vision.

  As Mac pushed open a door at the top of the stairs, Jacob heard something moving in the room beyond. Daylight washed away the stairway’s dim glow as Mac led him into the turret’s attic, where Jacob recognized the cathedral windows he’d seen from outside.

  The attic was clean, but filled with boxes carefully stacked with uniform spacing just big enough for a person to slide between each meticulous pile. Jacob followed Mac along a boxed pathway to a clearing where an old steel bunk lay on its side against the attic wall, a mattress pinned beneath it.

  “I’ll see if the house spiders will move these boxes out of here; I should have moved them out to the shop anyways...” Mac said as he pushed the boxes out of symmetry to create enough space to lay the narrow bed frame down. Tightly pressed bed sheets fell from between the mattress and the metal bunk as Mac tipped the frame to its feet.

  Jacob wondered what house spiders were as he leaned against some of the attic’s plastic storage boxes. He watched as Mac expertly set the sheets and blankets across the bunk. Within seconds the bed looked ready for a military inspection with covers pulled tight across it.

  “You can rack-out here, and in the morning
we’ll meet your Uncle Vincent. It’ll be grand Jacob...” he slid the space locker beneath the bunk, “...just grand.” Mac winked and flashed a smile.

  Jacob moved through the tetrazine fog to the freshly made bunk and sat down over the blanket’s sharp hospital corner. Mac took an airtight crate marked FRAGILE in six different languages from a nearby box pile and placed it up against the bunk as a makeshift bedside table.

  Mac stood with his hands on his hips, nodding as though the situation was good enough for the time being, but the tall man’s expression changed when he looked into Jacob's eyes.

  “Do you know what’s going to happen to me?” Jacob asked, the tetrazine making him only vaguely aware of the tears dropping into his lap.

  “Oh... hey now...” Mac said and folded his lanky frame down to kneel, his head level with Jacob’s.

  “I know it looks pretty bad right now lad, but you'll be alright.”

  “How do you know?” Jacob asked, and there was something far away in Mac’s eyes, flashing like a bomb strike in the shadow of his Kaizen cap's brim.

  “You lay down now, and get some sleep.” He glanced out a turret window at the sunset.

  “You could probably do with about sixteen hours.” He laughed as he stood up and stepped back through the stacked boxes, trying not to look like he was running away. He paused at the door, looking back at the small boy sitting on the bunk.

  “It’ll be grand. Jacob, I promise. Now get some sleep. ”

  “Okay.” Jacob said and stretched out on the bed, letting the tetrazine numb swallow him, still wearing his iGlasses and white arcology suit.

  Chapter 2

  Seanachie “Mac” McKenna stared at the chance sleeping in the bunk. A small chance that had just shown up. A final chance that maybe, just maybe, they weren't finished just yet.

  His eyes fell back to the locker tucked under the bunk and remembered a time when his world was a Space Corps locker just like it. He turned and left the attic, before the ghosts of his memory could hold him, and tried not to thump on his way down the turret’s stairs.