Eden Chip by Scott Cramer

Author:Scott Cramer
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780989812870
Published: 2018-06-26T04:00:00+00:00

DESIGN: PHASE 09

Raissa was arranging her arsenal on the bed when Ashminov walked over and picked up the Glock. “It's loaded,” she cried, her heart jumping into her throat. She would not put it past him to shoot her accidentally with a lead slug.

He popped out the ammo clip and twirled the weapon with his finger hooked into the trigger guard. With the expertise of a marksman, he rammed the clip home, lowered himself into a shooting stance, and squeezed off an imaginary round at a squirrel sitting on a branch outside the window. “Bang.”

“How’d you learn to do that?” she asked, more impressed than shocked.

“My mother was a captain in Bulgarian intelligence, and my father was an army colonel. They taught me how to fire an AK-47 before the age of ten. Target practice was one of the few times the Captain and Colonel showed any affection toward their children.” He tossed the Glock on the bed and sat beside it. “I blame them for the way I turned out, and I’d love to tell them so, but they’ve been dead for twenty years.”

The sad, fleeting glimpse into Ashminov’s childhood helped to explain his behavior. “For good or bad, parents live inside you forever. I lost mine when I was young.”

“What happened?”

“My mother was a rebel. Security destroyed our home with a missile. It killed my parents and baby brother.”

“Baby Brother,” Ashminov whispered and stared into space.

They remained silent for a long time.

“Something’s been bothering me,” she said. “Right before I flew to Boston, one of my trainers, Goldstein, killed my great-uncle, and smiled afterward.”

“Perhaps he hid his pain.”

She shook her head. “Goldstein is tough, but not that tough.”

Ashminov paced. “Baldini let the Pope suffocate. In my mind, that’s murder. He boasted about it.”

“Could someone have modified their chips to let them kill without experiencing punishment?”

His brow crinkled. “Only two people in the world understand M-code, and you're looking at one.”

“What if Petrov altered Goldstein’s and Baldini’s chips?”

“For what purpose?”

Raissa shrugged. “I can't put my finger on it, but I feel like I’m being manipulated, as if someone is controlling me like a puppet.”

“Baldini contacted me five years ago, wanting me to develop devourware. I always wondered how he knew to come to me.”

“Why didn’t you ask him?”

“The thrill of developing devourware clouded my judgment. I looked the other way.”

“That's what happened to me in Caleb’s apartment,” she said. “My desire clouded my judgment.”

“Raissa, I guess you’re human.”

She smiled. “You sound disappointed?”

“You are the toughest, most confident person I’ve ever met,” he said.

“I fake it.”

“Do you ever get afraid?”

“All the time,” she admitted.

“Do you have self-doubts?”

“Yes.” She squeezed his arm. “Ashminov, believe in yourself.”

“Do you believe in me?”

She hesitated. “Most of the time.”

He sat on the bed. “We can’t trust the Boston rebel.”

“The rebel is a key member of the mission.”

“The rebel killed a child to get a chip ID for my devourware.”

Bile pooled in the back of Raissa’s throat. “Caleb’s nephew died two days ago.”

Ashminov’s head flopped forward, and he grunted.

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