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The HYDRA jet was decked out exactly as Caldwell had imagihere was more real leather furniture than Caldwell had seen in his lifetime. There were plush leather sofas, reers, a massage chair, three desks with swivel chairs, a bookcase full of important-lookiher-bound books and a large plasma TV s. Even the bar stools were covered in real Italiaher. A bank of terminals lio cyberspace via the aircraft’s onboard satellite system blio one side of the main area of the aircraft. A fully immersive VR suit hung limply inside a glass et.As soon as they stepped aboard, Ms. Levin disappeared into one of two doors leading to the back of the plane. A large red sign above the door read RESTRICTED: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Caldwell thought he was flying Lobotomy Air, courtesy of HYDRA, the pride of the Union. The two agents settled their frames in one of the plush Italiaher sofas and flipped on the plasma. Agent Jones opened a partment in the sofa’s armrest and pulled out two pairs loves. They started playing a holographic video game, dug, weaving, jabbing and pung the air. The two five-inch holographic boxers projected on to the top of a glass coffee table followed their every move iime. They were mauscle boys massaging their pathetic egos.
“You two don’t have anythier to do than play video games?” Caldwell asked. He thought it was a reasonable question in the circumstances but they glared at him and theuro their boxing match. Caldwell sat in one of the swivel chairs and watched Agent Jones’ boxer pi Ja’s bainst the holographic ropes to the sound of a bell signaling the end of the first round. He was tired, both mentally and physically, but the thought of the impending procedure kept any notions of sleep at bay. He watched the two HYDRA agents remove their jackets and ties, poised for the sed round. Their holographic equivalents sat slumped in their ers sug water through straws and taking advice from invisible trainers.
Caldwell stood up and opened one of the doors at the front of the aircraft, the only ohat didn’t say AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY or CREW ONLY and found himself in a smaller room with a couple of treadmills and more leather reers. Was that all HYDRA agents did? Kick bad think of old England? He andeered one of the reers near a large window looking out on the runway. The automated fuel trucks were pulling away and the aircraft reparing to take off. There was a kno the door and two identical Eurasian twins in red crew garb walked in. Caldwell wasn’t sure whether he was halluating. There was something about the stewardesses, a certain telepathic coordina<samp></samp>tion that seemed totally unreal.
“Wele on board Mr. Caldwell. Mr. Fouler asked us t you this suit to ge into after your procedure. We also have a suitcase of clothing and other items that will e in handy in Hong Kong.” This said in unison, the sound of their voices ing at him in stereo. One of the girls was carrying a gray suit bag which she placed on a hanger on wall.
“Thanks,” Caldwell said and gawked at the girls. There was something unnatural about the two Eurasians, an intense and vaguely disturbing artificial beauty.
“You are wele,” they said, again in perfect syny.
“I am not going to bother asking your names. I am just going to get fused,” he said.
“That’s a good idea. Just call us Siu Je then there won’t be any fusion.”
“Sounds like a plan. Do you guys always say the exact thing at the same time? And what does Siu Je mean anyway? Doesn’t sound like English.”
“Very funny, Mr. Caldwell. We know you speak tonese perfectly well. We’ll e a you once Ms. Levin is ready for you.” Two pairs of painfully attractive brown oriental eyes bore into him.
“Yeah, her surgery is open all hours, right?”
“Pardon us, Mr. Caldwell?” the girls said in unison.
“Never mind. It’s just a little joke. And call me Cad, please.”
“If you insist, Cad,” they ceded in stereo, retreating backwards through the gaping door.
He’d be damned if HYDRA wasn’t culturing air hostesses in vats. The practice was not unheard of. There were places in Italy were you could get a twenty-one year-old woman ade in six months. No kidding. Those two looked like something out of Fouler’s fantasies. Only he would think of making them Eurasian, appealing to the most basic stereotypes about beauty. And then it clicked. The two agents, Ja and Johe idea of making identical blad white bodyguards could only be the result of a deade in a lab. HYDRA was growing its own staff. That would explain their obsession with video games. Like Kat’s obsession with movies. And the way they only spoke when spoken to. The meical way they dealt with the taheir totally unnatural laugh in the limo. The way they looked at Fouler when he left them at the airport, like Hansel and Gretel abandoned in the woods.
Caldwell let the e theress from his mind and tried to reflect ba everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hlyph, hacker owner of The HUB, dead. Kat was ba the radar and staying in Glyph’s trailer. He had part of his memory bad in a few minutes would have much more. He was slowly redisc a self he never knew before, his synapses refiguring in unimaginable ways, slowly unlog a hidden past.
The tempo of his life had definitely gone up a notch. For better or worse was anyone’s guess. Just the other day he had been on the brink of taking his own life. He thought about the Slav’s vial in his knapsaow he was on a luxury corporate aircraft bound for Hong Kong, his place of birth. Ohing was for sure. The events of the last twenty-four hours were too plex to digest and were best left aloo work themselves out in due course. He was still pissed off about what Fouler had let HYDRA do to him.
He stared outside the window as flight engineers fitted the metal slingshots below the aircraft’s fuselage. Caldwell felt like he had seen this done before although, as far as he could recall, he had never been on an aircraft before. There was a faint rumble as the engines fired up, the sound growing louder. The tempo rose until the fuselage started to shudder. The nose of the jet started moving upwards and he instinctively gripped the armrest of his seat. The sound of winches grinding, then the force of the slingshots snapping a<var>?99lｉｂ.</var>nd the HYDRA jet shot straight into the sky, bound for Hong Kong.
When the aircraft leveled out, Caldwell walked bato the main room. The two Eurasian Siu Jes were o be seen. It appeared Ms. Levin was still in the room with restricted access. The two agents were on round ten. Both biological and holograp<u></u>hic boxers had slowed down siderably. The Jones landed an uppercut to Agent Ja’s virtual jaw and the black agent’s holographic boxer slumped on to the virtual vass. A referee materialized out of nowhere, realistically dropped to the floor, or rather the coffee table, and began to t Agent Ja’s boxer avatar down. The heavy looked on, willing the hologram to get up but it was to no avail. Agent Jones’ boy was the champion. They both slumped sweat-soaked in the sofa and stared at him.
Agent Jones eased his bulky frame out of the sofa, leaving a large dent in the leather, and disappeared off behind one of the doors, muscles rippling against sweat-soaked shirt.
Caldwell decided it was going to be a long flight so he might as well appear to be friendly.
“First time to Hong Kong?” he asked, making every effort to sound casual.
“No, but these places all look the same anyway.” Agent Ja had spoken. It appeared they only stayed silent when they were together.
“How do you know if you’ve never been?” Caldwell pushed.
“Look here mate, this is going to be a three hour trip. We don’t need any shit from you. OK?”
“I am not giving any. Look why ’t we all just get along. Do you have family in the Union,” Caldwell probed.
A blank look came over the man’s fad he didn’t say a word. Agent Ja stood up suddenly. His fists were ched. On his face was a tortured look that only served to firm Caldwell’s initial suspis. These were vat jobs. What was he doing with an outfit that built people to serve its dark purposes? The agent’s eyes went blank and Caldwell thought he was about to take revenge for his boxi and pound him into the fuselage of the aircraft. He was saved by the bell. Ms. Levin popped her head round the restricted door.
“We are ready for you now,” she said cheerily, as though he was making a routirip to the dentist. We? Hoeople were there on the aircraft? And how many of them were born the way nature intended?
“I am not in the mood for a lobotht now. you give me a few more mio resider?” Caldwell asked. He was only half joking. The look in her eyes told him that now was the time and this was noiable. Caldwell stood up nervously. He rehensive about the process that was about to take plad what it would do to him. A mild migraiarted to flash somewhere deep within his skull. She opehe door wider to let him through. She was dressed pletely in white, having ged her clothes sihey had boarded the aircraft. Then it hit him why she had looked vaguely familiar at the airport. She had been a lot youhen. She was the nurse in the white room of his retly acquired memories.
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