Chapter 6

Friday August 19 2086

BASE, New York

2:03 PM

Nadia Chase leaned forward in her hovering chair. It rocked back and forth, compensating for every move she made. It was old-fashioned, she knew- there had been advancements in seating to remove the uncomfortable rolling motion, but Nadia had loved hover chairs as a child and the motion didn't bother her much anymore. She had overcome her motion sickness long ago.

A notification popped up on her low-grade MindBubble, supplied by the BASE rather reluctantly. It was from Charlie.

Urgent! the text screamed. Click this link- you need to know what's going on.

Intrigued, Nadia clicked on the link, which led to a video clearly taken from an eye-cam. The first three minutes were spent by three people, a man and two women, discussing things that flew so far over Nadia's head, the only words she understood were five months, urgent, and funding.

Then another man entered the conversation.

"A mysterious disease is killing off chickens." he reported bluntly. "They're dying by the thousands and no-one knows why."

The other people stared at him. "Statistics?" one of the women asked.

"Twelve thousand this morning. Each one just dropped dead."

The other woman pursed her lips. "Symptoms?"

The newcomer shrugged. "Seizures, heart failure, death."

The first man frowned. "Wait. All chickens, or just the cloned ones?"

"Just the cloned ones…"

The four people grew silent as they realised the implications. "A disease that's only killing off cloned chickens…" said one of the women. "That means-"

"I suspect foul play," said the first man. "Does the HCBA have any enemies?"

The second woman shrugged. "Animal rights groups. But they wouldn't kill off thousands of animals to make a point… would they?"

The new man said, "No-one can know what's going on. Agreed?"

The meeting concluded, and the video link shut off, leaving Nadia stunned. What was going on?

She sent an inquiry to Charlie, who responded promptly with a cryptic message. Wait and see.

Frustrated, Nadia called the teenager. She picked up immediately.

"Nadia," she said in greeting.

"What does it mean?" Nadia asked, skipping the pleasantries. "So chickens are dying. What does that have to do with me?"

Charlie laughed. "Nadia, you majored in artificially created diseases. You should know this."

Nadia was speechless. "I- Nobody knows that! I switched majors to animal behavior and biology; there's no way you could have possibly-"

She fell silent as Charlie interrupted. "Listen, Nadia, I would love to debate what I do and don't know, but this is more urgent. I know you have that diploma hidden away. I'm going to skip straight to the point- I've uncovered three other major food sources that are also dying rapidly, and I want to assemble a team of people to find out why."

Nadia stuttered, "I don't understand- there are professionals, why would you want me?"

Charlie gave her an impish grin. "Say you'll work for me, and I'll tell you."

"Give me a day to think about it."

Charlie nodded. "Twenty-four hours. If you haven't responded by then, I'll assume you want nothing to do with my operation and I will cease all contact. You'll never hear from me again. But if you accept? Full confidentiality. As far as the outside world is concerned, you'll disappear without a trace."

The young woman cut the link before Nadia could reply. She sat back in her chair, heaving a sigh. Suddenly, the rocking motion made her queasy.

⦓⦔

Friday August 19 2086

The Manor

4:56 PM

Doug Green was in a bad mood. He had woken up to a stream of urgent messages from his higher-ups, demanding that he report to them right away, and he was refused the raise he had applied for despite being one of the most productive employees in a company of useless Datastream surfers.

He reported to the BSI headquarters grudgingly at six in the morning, and had been in a string of meetings ever since. And the canteen was out of stimulants.

It was with dragging feet that he entered the next meeting. This was his final one for the day, he hoped; he was an investigator, not meant for sitting and talking to people all day. He wanted to be infiltrating private cloning companies, not listening to someone say the same thing in eight different ways.

"Thank you for joining us, Doug." An oddly familiar woman greeted him.

"How do you know my name?" he asked, apprehensive. In the BCI, people knowing your name was never a good thing.

"I'm Courtney Cruz. You might know me from the recent news briefs?"

Ah, yes. The meetings all day about the HCBA's cloning projects failing. Mass die-off, beginning with the chickens and then the pigs. Most recent to fall victim were the sheep- tens of thousands were dying and the HCBA was demanding insurance payments.

"Courtney Cruz… the Courtney Cruz?" Doug asked. Cruz nodded.

"That would be me."

He shrugged. "And why would you need me?"

"Because," she responded. "There are very important people that need these animals to stop dying, and fast. Your job is to track down someone who can do the job. You have three days before the media catches on; we need the promise of a cure in 36 hours."

Doug laughed. "I can't do that. I'm a mid-level agent. Send someone with more resources, more experience. I can investigate the cause, but if nobody knows that-"

Courtney interrupted him. "You don't understand, Doug. The BCI director, Matthew McConnaway? He hand-selected you for this assignment. There's nobody else he trusts enough." She leaned in closer, concluding in a hiss, "So succeed, because the alternative will be very painful for you."

He sputtered. "What resources do I get?"

Doug shuddered as Courtney grabbed his arm roughly and turned him towards the desk in front of which she stood. Behind it was a girl in an expensive navy blue suit. The girl smirked at him.

"You have me," she replied, studying him through intense blue eyes. Doug had the chilling feeling that she was prying into his mind and gleaning his most clandestine secrets.

He rolled his shoulders back, attempting to distract from his trembling hands. "And you are?"

She bared her teeth. "Liess. My first name is of no importance to you."

Liess.

"What does Liess Corp have to do with the HCBA and the BCI?" Doug asked, glacial fingers of dread clutching his lungs.

"Liess has shares in everything, Doug. We are all-seeing, all-knowing, all-powerful. And for thirty-six hours, you will share in a fraction of that power. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and should you succeed, many doors will open where there was once a solid marble wall. Do you understand me?"

A lump formed in Doug's throat. "Yes. I understand."

She gave him a frosty nod. "Very well. Your mission begins now. Any moves you make are in the name of Liess Corp and the BCI. You will leave no ties to the HCBA."

Doug bowed his head as he left the office of the strange girl. He immediately took a hover to his private office and found that an account containing precisely 500,000 credits was sent to him by a C. Liess. An accompanying message said only Use these funds at your discretion; the rest can be your pay.

Five hundred thousand credits was enough to pay Doug's salary for five years. He gulped. To have that kind of money in his hands…

Doug took a gulp of the stimulant on his desk. He wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers and entered the Datastream. Key words: artificial virus expert.

**Remember to like this chapter and add this to your stories if you want to keep up with Nadia and the gang!