1

The shadows crept in from the corners, stretching, grasping at Brynn as she walked down the dim hallway past dozens of secure doors, trying to ease calm into her frayed nerves. Sweat chilled her. The small hairs on her arms stood on end, leaking heat into the cool air.

There wasn’t much time. Let it be enough. Please be enough. She cursed her clacking heels, advertising her presence to anything with even the most dullard of ears. She rounded a corner, forcing calm into her nerves and the smile that had charmed millions warmed her face. This is it. This is the last chance. It goes to shit if I fail.

Reynolds looked up from his desk. Brynn’s grin grew wide and warm. She liked Reynolds. Better still, he liked her. A deep breath brought calm to Brynn’s mind, but all Reynolds saw was the way the silk of her blouse expanded.

“Good evening, Miss Caldwell,” he said, shifting his gaze to her eyes in embarrassment. “I didn’t expect to see anyone in the Dungeon, tonight of all nights.”

“How many times have I told you to call me Brynn? At least when we’re alone.” Brynn grinned, a crooked smile bringing a flush to the burly man’s face. Her touch to his arm, such a simple gesture, so easily missed, became Reynolds’s entire world. 

Damn. How easy deception comes these days. Brynn swallowed her doubts. There was too much at stake for guilt to turn her course.

After a moment, Reynolds’s regained his professionalism. Brynn saw the man bury his desires under a veneer of responsibility. “I thought everyone was up at the gala?” His tone hovered on the border between curiosity and suspicion. Brynn had to ease those thoughts back.

“You know Mr. Bechard, always some last-minute tweak.” To heighten her authority, she held up the pulse drive, forcing her hand steady. It was a perfect copy of the one that Alistair carried at all times. A master key to the Realms.

Reynolds nodded and sat upright. Brynn didn’t think the ex-military man could be more at attention. Even he knew the tiny device was the literal key to power. Brynn inserted the pulse drive into a slot on Reynolds’s security desk. A tense moment hung heavy in the air before a panel swooshed open on the blast-grade metal door. A biometric scanner powered to life, the green glow adding a sinister hue to the room. Reynolds stood and held his hand over the scanner. 

Reynolds hesitated, and Brynn saw his shoulders tense. She could almost see his thoughts. Why would the VP of public relations need access to the room behind this door? He paused, palm hovering over the sensor as doubt thrashed through his brain.

Brynn’s mind was lightning, seeking an out. “And here I thought I was higher up the corporate ladder,” Brynn said, adding a sexy pout to her voice. “It should be Schechter down here, not me.” Brynn paused, finger to lip. “But Mr. Bechard said I’m the one he trusts, so I guess that’s something.”

Reynolds’s shoulders relaxed. He too thrived on the approval of Alistair Bechard. Reynolds’s reverence was almost religious, akin to being chosen by God. 

Brynn heaved a silent sigh of relief as Reynolds activated the sensor pad and turned with an intense stare. He held the handle in a fierce grip, muscles tensing and releasing as his mind battled.

 “Typical Alistair. I’m sorry, Mr. Bechard,” Brynn said, mustering schoolgirl embarrassment at her calculated faux pas. “He probably decided the Dragon’s Claw Inn needed cream colored curtains instead of eggshell.” 

A smile crossed Reynolds’s face. Everyone at Sacrosanct Integrative Networks knew the big boss’s obsession with perfection. Bechard had a literal army of programmers, but they had only the smallest input on the project. Bechard handled all the core coding. Reynolds chuckled a tad. “That’s what makes him the best. Always willing to go that extra inch.”

“Paint the underside of the drawers,” Brynn said, repeating one of Alistair’s favorite mantras.

“Paint the underside of the drawers,” Reynolds said in response as if it were a religious phrase. He pulled the door open with a fluid motion. Brynn flowed past, tracing his arm with a light touch as she passed. 

This has to work, Brynn thought, forcing calm with a measured and confident pace. She neared the corner. One more turn and her quarry was hers. Reynolds’s sharp voice called out. 

“Miss Caldwell.”

Brynn took a slow calming breath as she turned back, remembering the man’s history, the man’s training. Brynn knew the things he could do. She smiled as he came into view.

“Don’t take too long,” Reynolds said. His intense stare chilled Brynn. Had she conned Reynolds, or had he been playing her? Seconds became hours before a grin eased Reynolds’s face. “If anyone deserves the party upstairs, it’s you.”

Brynn masked her relief under a veil of embarrassment. “I’m just a girl who talks to people, Reynolds. I’m the least important cog in this machine.”

“You’re much more than that, ma’am. Much more.” Reynolds smiled and eased the door shut with a hiss and a metallic clang. Brynn’s heart raced. Locked in a literal dungeon. Cool and dark with no way out.

Brynn turned the corner and entered the Nexus Chamber. The long room pulsed with heat despite the frigid air pulsing from the vents. Long rows of linked quantum cores shot into the distance. The quantitative power in this one room was staggering. Brynn walked up to the control dais as a large holo-vis projector came to life. 

Brynn inhaled, gripping the pulse drive in her fist. Reynolds feared the small device as much as she did. It was the key to a new world. A world unaware of what was coming. She shook with the full understanding of the desperate gamble she was taking. One that may very well cost her life. A gamble that might save millions more. 

Brynn plugged the pulse drive into the slot on the desk. Swirls of light pulsed inside the small device and, a moment later, a calm voice rose in the room.

“Access granted. Welcome back, Mr. Bechard.”

Brynn glanced over her shoulder one last time, knowing she was alone but still needing to look. She pulled a second pulse drive from her bra and knelt. Gentle pressure against the dais caused a panel to slide open. Brynn plugged the second drive into the backup access port and stood. 

Brynn’s fingers sped across the keyboard seeking the hidden directory Sean had installed. His risk was as big as hers, bigger even. If Alistair knew what Sean had done, what she did now, both would disappear. Brynn was sure of that. 

A prompt shone on the holo-vis. UPLOAD PATCH? A blazing YES blinked in time with her thundering heart. Her finger hesitated over the panel. Thump, Thump. Blink, Blink. Thump, Thump. Blink, Blink. Her finger spiked down, and the patch cycled into the quantum core. It wormed its way into the billions of lines of code, altering the tiniest fraction of their purpose.

A moment later, the upload finished and the second pulse drive ran a purge, erasing any evidence. Only Reynolds knew she had been here, and he was so in awe of Mr. Bechard that he would never speak to the man unbidden. The risk was minimal. It had to be. 

Brynn allowed herself one last look into the infinite worlds contained in the room. I have no choice. Alistair Bechard must be stopped.

Brynn pulled the pulse drive from the core. A deep sigh released pent up tension. The release that comes with knowing whatever happened now was out of her hands. 

“It’s up to you, Finn,” Brynn said to the empty room. “I’m so sorry.”

2

Finn’s mind found solace in the menial task of emptying the bar’s dishwasher. The gentle hum, the sluice of warm water, and the waves of steam rising from the spinning contraption was a salve to his nerves. He was so lost in this rare moment of calm he didn’t hear Doc.

“Earth to John. Hello, John.”

Finn looked up and gave the haggard man an embarrassed grin. He still wasn’t used to being John. His training and experience usually made slipping into an alter ego as simple as pulling on a pair of socks. It troubled him that this time was different.

“Sorry, Doc. Didn’t sleep so well last night.” 

“Yeah, you look like shit, buddy,” Doc said with a grin and a heft of his empty pint glass. Finn grabbed it, held it up to the spout, and flipped the tap open. Amber liquid flowed into the glass. “Got a lady friend keeping you up all night?”

Finn chuckled. He liked Doc. He was a kindred spirit. A man who’d screwed his life up as much as Finn had. Yet, as he set the fresh pint in front of the older man, Finn couldn’t help wishing that his demon was as simple as alcoholism. 

“No such luck, Doc. The ladies aren’t scrambling to get with lowly bartenders.”

“Stop playing coy. I may be a drunk, but I’m no idiot. You’ve got many a hidden depth to you.”

Panic rose in Finn as he eyed Doc. The man had been a McHenry’s regular years before Finn bought the place, so the likelihood of him being a plant was slim to none. Yet professional paranoia had helped Finn live this long.

“Don’t be so uptight, lad. A man is entitled to his secrets. Especially in this world. I have a few dark ones I keep to myself, too.” Doc raised his pint in a knowing salute before taking a sip.

But you don’t, Finn thought. 

Doc’s once a week ritual, fueled by guilt and alcohol, was to regale Finn with the tale of his downfall. The man had once been a brilliant surgeon but alcohol had seeped into his soul and a mother had died on his table. Doc didn’t even fight the inquiry. He’d forfeited his medical license the very next day. Now he spent his days at Finn’s bar, watching soccer and trying to drown his demons.

Finn started cutting fruit for the day.

“Can I turn on the news?” Doc asked.

Finn nodded. He had long ago given Doc access to the large holo-vis behind the bar. It popped to life and CNN came on.

“This is Snapper Carr, reporting from outside Sacrosanct Integrative Technologies,” a young man with a winning smile said. A crowd of angry protesters gathered in front of the stunning modern skyscraper. “Today, after a successful six-month beta test, the Realms was set to go public. The world’s first Neuro Integrated Massive Multi-Player Online Role-Playing Game has wowed critics and beta players alike. Industry experts expected it to be a multi-billion-dollar money maker for Sacrosanct Founder and CEO, Alistair Bechard.”

“I never understood these games,” Doc said. 

“Never been my thing either,” Finn said. “But I get it. Who doesn’t want an escape from the drudgery and pain of the real world?”

Doc nodded and hoisted his beer in salute. Screams of anger and pain brought his attention back to the newscast. The crowd pushed forward against the wall of riot cops as rocks flew over the shield wall. An improvised Molotov cocktail exploded against the building. The cops pushed into the crowd, riot shields smashing and advancing. 

“Jesus,” Doc said, drawing Finn’s eyes to the holo-vis.

“It’s just a game, isn’t it?” Doc asked stunned.

“Things have become violent here,” Snapper Carr said, ducking as a rock whizzed a bit too close to his head. “All because this morning, instead of opening the Realms to the public, Sacrosanct cut off all access. A short press release from Sacrosanct blamed the shutdown on a temporary glitch, but rumors swirling on gaming forums claim that access to the game has been blocked, perhaps permanently. The Sacrosanct leadership has been silent, unseen since the beta launch, giving some credence to the rumors. The question on many lips: What is Alistair Bechard hiding?”

“The world is going to shit,” Doc said.

“It’s always been shit, Doc.”

“True that.” Doc switched the channel to a soccer game.

The calm voice of the announcer melded with the task of cutting fruit, lulling Finn’s mind. His repetitive deftness with the knife eased the task into a meditative state. Once more, he pushed the world away. He didn’t look up when he heard the door open or the scrape of a stool, but he sensed the man sit in front of him. There was a whole bar why did people always have to invade this one small haven?

“Hello, Finn,” a familiar voice said through a haze of pain. Finn gripped the knife harder, awareness surging to the fore. “Easy, buddy. I’m just here to deliver a message.”

Finn’s training took over and his eyes eased up. A haggard face surrounded the controlled smile of a man whose every aura suggested competence and ability. He was pale and hunched in pain. One hand hidden by the bar, Finn stared, eyes filled with demand. 

Lex, is he transmitting? Finn silently asked his banner, the semi sentient artificial intelligence that shared his mind. Sometimes Finn was amazed at how quickly the public had become used to the idea of banner technology. Essentially banners were seriously advanced personal assistants akin to Siri or Alexa from decades before. But unlike those technologies, banners melded with the user’s nervous system. The old internet had been ill equipped to handle that level of bandwidth and had led to the invention of the lattice, an ever-present field of information. 

Nope, no electronic signals of any kind. In fact, I’d say he’s put his banner into standby. He is not connected to the lattice, Lex responded. Finn wondered why Lex was more alive than his old Army issued banner.

Let me know if that changes.

Right-O.

“My banner is offline and I’m not recording or transmitting. But you already knew that.”

“Dalton,” Finn said, his grip tensing up on the knife. The gesture was pointless. If Dalton wanted him dead, he would be. This was something else. “How did you find me?”

“I’m just that good, kiddo.” A subtle shift in Finn’s eyes caused Dalton to lean back with a grunt of pain. The older man nodded and put both hands face up on the bar, showing Finn he meant no harm. It was a classic technique, and Finn knew he couldn’t trust it. “Don’t worry, I’m the only one who knows. I’m not here in an…official capacity.”

Finn’s eyes widened in shock when he saw the blood covering the man’s hands. A hurried and clinical examination told Finn that Dalton was in bad shape. Finn rushed around the bar and caught his old mentor as the older man slipped from the barstool.

“Doc,” Finn said in an urgent tone. Despite the alcohol fuzzing his mind, old training jumped to the fore of Doc’s mind. He leapt from his stool helping Finn. They eased Dalton onto the ragged couch near the pool table. 

Doc knelt and pulled Dalton’s jacket aside, revealing a large wound in the man’s side. “Gunshot,” Doc said, “at least two.”

“Three,” Dalton bragged with humor before a coughing fit pulsed bloody foam from his mouth. 

Lex lock the front door and activate the closed sign. And keep an eye on the external sensors. We may soon have company.

Sure thing, bud.

“Who shot you, Dalton?”

“Not the right question,” Dalton said with a wry smile. Finn flashed back to a time years ago when Finn was a newbie and Dalton assigned as his mentor. A day Finn now marked as the first step on the road that had led to his ruin.

He was recruited the day after his discharge from the Army when Finn’s world was full of anger and regret. The discharge was classified as top secret. The Army wanted no details of the botched op getting out. Public sentiment against the war was already critical. The exposure of a massacre would have tipped the scales. To this day, Finn did not know how his last employers had known who he was, known he was available. Known he was willing and that he burned for the chance to make amends.

Forcing the memory back into the dark recesses of his mind, Finn asked the correct question. “Why are you here then?”

“Can’t an old friend pop in and say hi?” Dalton said with a grin, pleased that Finn knew the right question.

“We’re not friends.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, pal. I may be the only friend you have left,” Dalton said, his grin buried under another fit of bloody coughing.

“Do you have a med kit?” Doc asked.

“Under the bar.” Finn indicated with a nod of his head.

Doc retrieved the kit and motioned for Finn to ease the wounded man back on the couch. “Grab me that knife,” Doc said.

“And your best whiskey.” Dalton smiled through gritted teeth. 

Finn grabbed both. Doc snatched the knife and sliced Dalton’s shirt up the middle. The wounded man took a swig from the bottle Finn handed him. Doc opened the med kit and got to work on Dalton.

“I have a message.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Oh, you are. You just don’t know it yet.” He set the bottle onto the side table with a thump. He wiped an errant drop of whiskey from his lip, smearing a crimson streak across his face that gave him the visage of an insane clown. 

“May I?” Dalton asked, his hand hovering over the pocket to his jacket. After a moment of locked eyes, Finn nodded. Dalton removed something from his jacket pocket. He extended his hand to Finn. A pulse drive rested on his palm.

“I’m not going back, Dalton.”

“It’s not from Central.” 

“Who then?”

“Brynn.” 

Finn’s eyes went wide and his hand snapped around the pulse drive. “Brynn?” he said without realizing he had spoken. He pulled his hand back and eased the drive into his pocket like a mother handling a newborn, all fear and gentleness. 

Finn’s mind flashed to the last time he’d seen his sister. Misty eyed under the black umbrella as their father’s coffin was lowered into the ground. Brynn, always so kind, so sweet, and so brave. Alone in the world. Perhaps that is why he allowed her to see him. A moment of weakness. A moment of kindness. The guns were still echoing as Brynn excused herself from the small crowd. Feigning a desire to be alone, she found Finn sitting on a bench.

“I knew you were still alive,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “Why did you leave?”

“I had no choice.”

“There’s always a choice, Finn.”

“Tell that to the colonel,” Finn said, idly rubbing a spot on his chest. A spot marred by scar tissue.

Brynn held back a sob and took a small box from her purse. She handed it to Finn. 

“What’s this?”

“Something to help you remember. Something to help you not be alone.”

With that, she had pecked him on the cheek, stood, and walked away. 

Finn’s mind came back to the present. He pulled the pulse drive from his pocket and fear ate at his guts, twisting it harder than the worst bar rot scotch. What could scare Brynn enough for her to enlist Dalton’s aid? How did they even know each other?

Old training, deeply ingrained in his mind, took control. His mind analyzed the available data and one conclusion jumped to the fore. The colonel, Finn thought. He was still mucking up his children’s lives even from the grave. 

“John,” Doc said with controlled alarm, “we need to get him to a hospital.”

Finn pulled himself from his thoughts and looked to Doc. The old surgeon’s eyes told Finn all he needed to know. Dalton didn’t have long.

“It’s okay, kid. I always knew it could end this way,” Dalton said, “but maybe this will help wipe some of my ledger clean.”

Boss, we have company, Lex chimed in his mind. Four men, two teams of two. Back and front. Heavily armed. 

Finn’s eyes hazed as he accepted the feed from Lex. Two men, armed with silenced, automatic rifles, took up positions on each side of the front door. A quick check told him there were two more at the back door.

“We’ve got company. Four total. Two at the front. Two at the back.”

“Shit, I thought I’d ditched them.” Dalton grimaced as he attempted to rise.

Finn told Lex to dim the lights, then rushed to the bar and grabbed a hidden pistol. He returned to Dalton and Doc.

“Doc take this and lock yourself in the bathroom. Don’t come out until I tell you it’s okay.” He palmed the pulse drive into Doc’s hand. 

“What if you don’t tell me it’s okay?”

Finn shrugged, and with a resigned nod, Doc rushed to the bathroom. Finn turned to Dalton. “You armed?”

Dalton pulled a pistol from his jacket and checked the magazine and safety. “Help me up.”

Finn eased Dalton to his feet. The man grunted in pain, but the old bastard was tough. Finn helped position Dalton behind the bar where he’d have some measure of protection. Finn then rushed to the gap between two antiquated stand-up video game consoles. He noted with a sense of irony that one involved shooting ducks with an orange plastic rifle. Hopefully, we won’t be the ducks, Finn thought.

3

They’re gonna breach, Lex said.

Finn accessed the external feed only to see one man raise his silenced weapon. A sharp flash and the feed turned to fuzz. The backdoor camera was down as well. Finn saw the men pull night vision rigs over their eyes. The darkness was not their ally.

Finn made eye contact with Dalton and held up four, then five fingers, hoping his estimation was right. He considered opening a direct channel to Dalton’s own banner AI but suspected the link was hacked. Time for old-fashioned methods.

He pointed to the lights and opened his hand like an expanding sun. Then indicated ten-seconds by pulsing his spread hand twice. Dalton nodded and aimed his pistol towards the door. Finn did the same, knowing the team at the back would need more time to reach the bar.

Finn’s mind counted down. The air was heavy with anticipation as the seconds passed. The dull thud of a focused explosion punched his ears as the door flew off its hinges. Several smoke canisters skittered into the room.

A moment later, shadowy forms moved through the door. Dalton opened fire with a quick three shot burst, and Finn heard a grunt of pain as one figure fell to the ground. Finn fired at the other target and earned another grunt of pain. Both attackers sought cover behind the host stand as smoke filled the entryway. 

They’re wearing Mark IV tactical body armor, Lex said. Your weapons will just annoy them.

Mark IV tactical armor would easily block small-arms fire but had the appearance of a well-tailored suit. A standard issue for spec ops agents, high-end bodyguards, and anyone else who desired both protection and fashion.

I’d shoot them in the head. Boom, boom. Oh God, there are brains everywhere.

Keep the comments to a minimum Lex. And preferably keep them useful. Not for the first time, Finn wondered about his banner. Lex was a gift from Brynn. She’d warned him that Lex was different. Perhaps she knew her brother better than he knew himself. Maybe he’d needed the sarcastic dickhead AI to keep him engaged in life when he was close to giving up on it.

Early critics of banners raised fears that the technology could be used to alter people’s thoughts. The fear had long ago been debunked, but Finn couldn’t stop a thought from popping into his mind. He can’t read my thoughts, can he?

Finn’s mental countdown reached zero, and he hoped Dalton was ready. Finn squeezed his eyes shut and ordered Lex to power the lights up to maximum. A blazing surge banished the darkness. The sudden illumination was murder on Finn’s eyes, but the attackers fared much worse. 

Triumph surged into Finn’s mind as he heard the surprised grunts. The pain caused the closest attacker to spasm, exposing his head. Finn squeezed the trigger three times fast and a bloody third eye welled up in the center of the man’s head, a posthumous gift of enlightenment to a man who no longer needed it.

The other attacker recovered quicker than Finn expected and opened fire. Finn dove behind the arcade machine. A torrent of bullets tore into the ancient tube monitor. Spouts of gas exploded with a pop. The wood frame of the machine provided crap cover. The gunshots grew closer as the second gunman advanced towards Finn’s position. 

This won’t end well dude, Lex said.

Shut up, Finn ordered, but he knew his prick of a banner was right. He had a few seconds before he’d be dead. There was no way he could risk finding a clear shot with the rapid-fire bullets coming his way. 

Dalton fired several quick shots from behind the bar, and the other attacker went down. Finn risked a look and saw another corpse draining onto the floor. He looked at Dalton and nodded. Dalton nodded back. A quick pop of silenced weapons fire announced the second team had entered the fray. Dalton fell with a scream. 

Finn spun, found his target and shot quick, timed bursts. Time slowed as it always did for him. One of his shots hit the attacker in the neck and the man fell in a spurt of blood. But Finn was now exposed, and the other attacker opened fire. He dove behind the half-wall that separated the main bar from the walkway to the bathrooms. A bullet took him in the shoulder as he fell. His head smacked against the wall and stars shot through his vision. With a grunt of pain, Finn assessed the damage. 

Just a flesh wound, Lex said.

Didn’t I tell you to be quiet? But Finn had to agree with his irritating banner’s opinion. 

I thought you were being rhetorical. 

More bullets tore into the wall above Finn’s head, and he rolled and leaned around the wall’s edge firing blindly. Volleys fired with neither party hitting the other. But Finn understood his enemies’ tactic. Finn was nearly out of bullets. 

Lex, show me the feed from the register camera.

Now you feel like talking, Lex said, but the camera feed popped into Finn’s vision. It wasn’t designed to show the bar, but rather to make sure the shady folks Finn hired weren’t ripping him off. It was pointing towards the register, but a blur of motion reflected by the filthy mirror behind the register showed Finn the enemies’ location. I need to clean the glass more often, Finn thought and chuckled grimly. He knew regardless of what happened next that his days of tending bar were over.

Finn sprinted towards the man’s position, using his last few rounds to lay down cover fire. The bullets forced the attacker to hide inside the door to the unused kitchen. Finn knew his plan to rush an enemy without ammo was insane, but he didn’t see any other option.

As the man’s rifle emerged once again from behind the door, Finn grabbed the barrel with his free hand and twisted it away from him. The rifle fired. Vibrations surged up Finn’s arm, and the agony in his wounded shoulder forced him to release the rifle. 

Finn smashed the butt of his pistol into the man’s face. The crunch of bone was muted by the man’s scream. Finn wrenched the gun from the man’s hands. Finn was shocked the man still stood and outright stunned when he smashed a forearm into the side of Finn’s head, dropping Finn to one knee. The gun fell from his hand and skittered under a nearby table.

The man grinned in triumph as he pulled a combat knife from a sheath at his waist and stabbed at Finn. Desperate, Finn thrust his left hand upward, and the knife pierced his palm. Finn screamed as the blade emerged from the back of his hand, midway between his middle and index fingers.

The man pushed, and with his better leverage, the knife crept closer to Finn’s face, becoming his entire world. Within moments, it was hovering mere inches from his left eye. In a desperate motion, Finn moved to the left and pummeled his right forearm into the side of the man’s knee. The knee buckled with a wet crunch. The man collapsed with a grunt. 

Finn brought his right hand up, palm to the fleshy part of the man’s wrist. Another snap and the man lost his grip on the knife. Finn yanked the combat blade from his hand. Before he could bring it to bear on his enemy, the man knocked it from his hand.

His opponent twisted and rolled, drawing Finn into a pincer between his legs. Finn punched at the man’s injured knee drawing grunts of pain but little relief. Finn was suffocating and knew he wouldn’t last much longer. He was about to die, and Brynn still needed him.

Dude, you forgot you have a knife on your hip, didn’t you? Lex said. 

Finn’s oxygen deprived brain almost didn’t believe it was Lex. Was it his subconscious? His pain in the ass banner wouldn’t jest about his imminent death, would he?

Finn struggled to reach the sheath at his waist. The bar knife wasn’t the best weapon, but it was pointy and sharp and he’d used worse. He brought his knee up and into his assailant’s kidneys. The man grinned down at him, thinking Finn was flailing as he neared death. But a few hits to the man’s side moved the man enough to allow Finn to finger the knife free. 

With one last burst of energy, Finn impaled the man through the ear. The violent power behind the thrust snapped the handle off, leaving seven inches of metal lodged in the man’s head.

A look of shock crossed the man’s face as his muscles went slack and his legs released Finn’s neck. A coughing fit racked Finn’s body as air rushed back into his lungs and awareness returned to his brain. He lay for a few moments recovering before he remembered he wasn’t alone.

“Dalton?” he called in a hoarse voice. Nothing.

He got to his feet and hobbled to the bar. He found Dalton face down. A jagged exit wound had torn apart his shoulder and blood flowed freely. He turned him over, relieved at the moan of pain from his old mentor. His eyes opened, and with returning consciousness came pain.

“Fuck me,” the old warrior grumbled. Finn found the entry wound low on his left shoulder, between the collarbone and his heart. Finn was no medical expert, but he’d seen enough gunshot wounds to know this one was fatal.

“You’re going to be okay,” Finn said.

“Liar,” Dalton said with a bitter chuckle that spit up blood. “Did we get them, at least?”

“We did,” Finn said, sadness staining his voice. “Who were they, Dalton?”

“Mercs. Contractors hired by Sacrosanct.” 

“Sacrosanct? That’s where Brynn works.” Panic ate at Finn. “What is going on? Where is Brynn?”

“I don’t know. Nobody has seen her, or the rest of the Pantheon in months.”

“Pantheon?”

A bitter laugh rumbled from Dalton. “Yeah, that’s what they call themselves. Alistair Bechard and his cronies who run Sacrosanct. Pretentious assholes if you ask me. It’s as if they think they’re gods.” 

“Dalton, you’re not making any sense.”

“I’m dying, kid, so shut up and listen. Do you know what the Realms is?”

“Some kinda game or something. What does this have to do with Brynn? Or this,” Finn said, waving his hand around the bar turned war zone. 

“Brynn suspected something was off with the Realms and brought me in to help.”

“How do you two even know each other?” Finn’s mind raced to find any source of contact. He could conceive of none. Finn had made sure not to mix his two lives. 

Dalton laughed at Finn’s puzzled expression. “Man, you’re a naïve dullard. Did you think you were the only one your father recruited?”

Shock pummeled Finn. “Brynn worked for Dad? I don’t believe it. I won’t believe it.”

“Your father had tendrils everywhere, kid. I’m one scary dude, and your old man terrified the shit out of me.”

Finn’s mind pushed aside the shock and refocused. “Where is Brynn?”

“I told you, nobody knows. Last I knew she was going into the Realms. She told me to find you and give you the pulse drive. Took me six months. Guess I trained you too well.”

Mention of the pulse drive brought Doc rushing back into Finn’s awareness. “Doc!” Finn yelled. “Doc, I need your help!”

“It’s too late. You need to find Brynn.” Dalton said, his eyes glazing. “Did you know I’m her godfather? I don’t think even she knows that.” Dalton’s eyes went blank, and he was gone. 

Shock pummeled Finn’s mind. None of this made sense. Doc shoved him aside and performed CPR on Dalton. After a few minutes, Doc gave up. Doc spoke to him, but Finn did not hear. His world was a swirling vortex of muddled confusion.

Doc slapped Finn hard across the face, and Finn was back. He looked from Doc to Dalton as reality came rushing back. “Doc?”

“I’m sorry, he’s dead.” A look of sympathy crossed his face.

Finn looked down upon his old mentor, a man he both loved and loathed. “I don’t understand any of this,” Finn mumbled.

“That makes two of us Finn,” Doc said with a stare. 

Doc had used his real name. Finn looked up. “That’s a long story, Doc. One you’re better off not knowing.” 

Doc looked around the bar. “I believe you. This has the look of one of those I’d have to kill you if I told you situations.”

“Something like that. I wouldn’t know where to start, anyway.”

“Let’s start with an introduction. I’m Percy Winkelvoss.” Doc extended his hand.

Finn gave Doc a sideways glance and reached out and shook his hand. The man had the firm and steady grip of a surgeon, despite the alcoholism that had destroyed his life. 

“Finn, Finn Caldwell.” 

“Nice to meet you, Finn.”

“Same.” A few seconds passed in silence as Finn looked down on Dalton. “Now I know why you go by Doc.” 

Doc harrumphed. “Yeah, thanks Ma and Pa Winkelvoss. Lean back and let me have a look at those wounds.” 

At the mention of his wounds, the pain rushed back. Finn’s adrenaline surge had worn off, and the pain had arrived. He eased back against a beer cooler with a grimace. Doc tended to the wound in Finn’s shoulder first. 

“Through and through on the shoulder. That’s good. I’ll stitch it up, but your range of motion will suck for a few weeks.”

He removed a suture wand from the med kit and closed the wound with polymer staples. They leaked anti-inflammatory and antibiotic drugs into his body. In a few days, when they had done their job, they would melt away. 

Next, Doc examined his hand. Again, the damage was muscular, not structural. His hand would also be useless for a few weeks. 

His ministrations finished Doc pulled the pulse drive from his pocket and handed it to Finn. “I hope it’s worth all this death,” Doc said with a sigh.

“It never is, Doc.”

“I’m gonna hit the head. Too much excitement is no bueno for my old bladder.”

Finn nodded. “Thank you, Doc.”

“You’re welcome, kid.” Doc grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the bar and took a big swig. “Consider this payment.” Doc headed towards the bathroom, carrying the bottle under his arm the way other men hit the bathroom with a magazine.

Finn smiled at the old drunk and looked down at the pulse drive. His face turned grim. What did you die for, Dalton? Finn thought. And what have you gotten yourself into, Brynn? 

Finn walked into the small office behind the bar and sat. The desk held a computer that had been obsolete before Finn was born. It was slow. However, it had no built-in access to the lattice, making it untraceable. Finn inserted the pulse drive into an external port, a shiny bit of malplast that looked so out of place with the rest of the rig. 

The ancient monitor powered up and the only file on the drive pulsed to life. It brought up a blinking password prompt. Finn stared for a few moments. 

“Shit,” Finn said aloud. Brynn was smart, which meant only Finn would be able to decipher the code. Which meant he already knew it. He racked his brain, trying to remember everything he knew about his sister. 

Finn had always been the silent loner, while Brynn was always joyous, even as a child. Her mere presence lit up a room. It was no wonder she had thrived in life. He’d been so proud of her when she’d earned VP at Sacrosanct Integrative Networks. Sure, they were ‘just a game company,’ Brynn had said. But they were cutting edge and even had contracts with the US military. 

Finn cursed himself for falling out of her life, both before and after his disgrace. His work had made real connections difficult, even with Brynn. He thought back to the last time he’d been happy. 

He’d come to the family summer home after graduating from boot camp. It was Brynn’s favorite place in the entire world. A wondrous and magical oasis nestled on Bow Lake in New Hampshire near where their Mom had grown up. Brynn, all of thirteen years old, dragged her big brother into an adventure around the lake. There they fought goblins and orcs and dragons and even saved a gryphon. A live action adventure based upon the role-playing games Brynn forced Finn the play. 

Finn asked her why they saved the gryphon after slaying so many other monsters. Brynn got her intense look. That look that would someday shame everyone from big brothers to local police chiefs to the heads of Senate committees. 

“Because the gryphon is noble and strong and always fights for what is right,” Brynn said with the intensity only a thirteen-year-old could muster. “Just like you, Finn.” 

Brynn had always hated that their names rhymed, so from then on, when it was just the two of them, she had called him Gryph. Finn’s heart seized at the memory. He’d been her hero, but unlike the gryphon he had done many a thing that was not noble or right.

His amazing and strong sister, the best of the Caldwells, was in trouble. She needed him, and if he had any chance for redemption, he needed to become who she always thought he was. He needed to become the gryphon.

“G-R-Y-P-H,” Finn realized. “The passcode is Gryph.”

Finn’s fingers sped across the keyboard typing the code. Then a video began to play. A video of Brynn.

4

Finn’s heart thudded in his chest at the look of fear on Brynn’s face. Several moments passed before his training took over. Finn watched every detail with detachment and precision. Brynn was in her office. It was night and the San Francisco skyline glinted through a window behind her. The room was dimly lit as if she was trying not to draw attention to herself.

She’s at Sacrosanct, Finn realized. 

“Hello, Finn,” Brynn said, sneaking a glance past the camera as if fearing interruption. “I’m in trouble. We’re all in trouble.” Her small smile seemed forced.

She’s terrified.

“I don’t have the time to explain everything, and to be honest, I don’t think you’d believe me if I did,” Brynn said. She glanced around again. 

She’s afraid somebody will interrupt her, catch her.

“I’m about to go into the Realms, and I don’t think I’ll be coming back out. I don’t have a choice. None of us do. He’s become paranoid, suspicious. He may be onto us already. By the time you get this, I’ll either be in the Realms or…” Brynn bit her lip and Finn saw the fear bubble to the surface as she tried to keep herself together. 

What could scare her this badly? By the time I get this? Finn’s eyes snapped down to the time code buried in the info feed at the bottom of the video. April the 4th. Six months ago? His mind reeled. Six months? Dalton had been right. Finn cursed himself. Why was I so damn stubborn? He should have known she was missing. He should have been searching for her all this time.

“The Realms are not what we thought they were. Alistair is not who he claims to be. My God, Finn, it’s bad. I need you to come find me. Not here, but in the Realms. Finding my body in this world won’t do me any good if you cannot rescue my mind.”

Brynn held up a pulse drive, a small data storage device that used pulses of light to encode information. They were popular not just for their massive storage capacity but also for being nearly impervious to hacking. It was the same pulse drive Finn had docked in his computer.

“This drive has a map to a safe house. Dad made me memorize its location in case I ever got into any boy trouble. As if any boy would ever date me with the colonel lurking.” A small smile curled her lips. “There you’ll find a cutting-edge neural immersion rig that will get you into the Realms. Your banner already has the codes necessary to override Alistair’s security protocols.” 

She grinned and, for a moment, she was the Brynn he remembered. Then as she leaned closer to the camera that Brynn was gone. Stress lines had aged her face. She was scared and tired and on the edge of a breakdown. 

“When this video is over, you’ll have two minutes to port the map and safe house access code onto your banner before the pulse drive self-destructs.” 

“I love you, big brother. Come get me. Come save me. Everything depends…” Brynn stopped cold and glanced up. Behind her, reflected in the window, was the silhouette of a man. “Shit, you scared me,” Brynn said, and the video ended. 

The screen went blank, and Finn tapped at the keyboard desperate to bring it back. There had to be more clues. The screen didn’t respond but, a moment later, a countdown appeared. 

2:00…1:59…1:58 …

Finn tugged the pulse drive from the dock and placed it onto his injured left palm. The organic circuitry tattooed into his palm activated and flares of sub-dermal light moved in intricate circular patterns as his banner attempted to connect to the pulse drive. The banner interface lit up and cycled but flared out.

“Shit,” he said aloud, lifting and replacing the pulse drive in an attempt to connect. Once again, the cycle began, but it collapsed. The knife must have damaged the circuits. 

Lex? Finn begged.

My interface is damaged, Lex responded in a calm voice.

No shit. What do I do?

Find another banner, Lex said smugly. I’m okay by the way. In case you were concerned.

Shut up.

So that’s a no, I guess. Well, at least now I know where I stand.

“Doc?” he yelled as he emerged behind the bar and sprinted towards the back of the room. He slammed open the ratty door to the men’s room. 

“Doc?”

The disgraced surgeon stood in front of the urinal doing his business. The noise made him jump and piss sprayed everywhere.

“Dammit, Finn. Can’t a man take a whizz in peace?”

Finn ignored the anger and grabbed Doc’s hand. 

“What the hell?” Doc sputtered pulling his hand from Finn’s grasp. “I know I’m a casual kinda guy, man, but even I have boundaries.”

“I need you to access this pulse drive,” Finn said and grabbed Doc around the wrist

Finn slapped the pulse drive onto Doc’s left palm. Doc opened his mouth to protest, but the desperate look on Finn’s face must have convinced him. Doc closed his eyes and the interface of the older man’s banner surged to life as a connection synced. 

Finn folded Doc’s fingers over the pulse drive, securing it. Time crawled as the file in the pulse drive merged with neural interface of Doc’s banner. Finn’s heart thundered away the seconds. 

Doc’s eyes opened, and he swayed, knees failing him. Finn caught him before he could fall to the floor. 

“Jesus, Finn, what was that?” Doc reached up to rub his temples.

“Sorry, Doc, but I needed a banner, and I needed it quickly.”

“Because yours is all cut up,” Doc said, nodding his head. 

“Did the file download?” Finn asked.

Doc nodded, regaining some of his equilibrium. “It’s a map and some kinda passcode.”

“Good. We need to go there. Now.”

“What is going…” Doc began, before his eyes widened and his mouth erupted in a scream of pain. Finn felt the heat a moment before he smelled the burning skin. He still held Doc’s palm closed, but now a fierce heat surged through their fingers. 

“My hand is burning. Fuck Finn, I’m on fire.”

“The self-destruct,” Finn said.

“The what?” 

“This is going to hurt.”

Finn wrenched Doc’s fingers back and charred flesh tore. Doc screamed in agony and his eyes widened at the burning shard of malplast melted into his hand. 

Finn did the only thing he could think of. He dragged Doc into the stall and shoved his hand into the toilet. The heat died amidst a surge of steam. Finn pulled Doc’s hand out of the toilet and wrenched the melted pulse drive from Doc’s palm, tossing it to the ground. 

Doc pulled back his undamaged hand and punched Finn in the face. It was a good punch. It hurt.

“Dammit,” Finn said. 

Doc remembered who he was dealing with and his natural calm returned.

“Sorry, just reacted.”

“Understandable,” Finn said rubbing his jaw. “That’s some punch you have there, Doc.”

“Harvard boxing champ, 2021.” Pride beamed through the pain on Doc’s face. “You’re a dick by the way, and I really need that med kit.” 

I’m detecting tons of encrypted lattice traffic, Lex said.

Can you tell what are they saying?

You do know what the word encrypted means, right?

Finn felt the need to deliver serious violence to Lex. He knew it was stupid. Finn decided that he’d have to have words with his sister, once he found her.

“We have to go, Doc.”

“More bad guys?”

“More bad guys.”

5

It would take them a few minutes to get out of the building. Ever mistrustful, Finn had long ago scouted an emergency exit from the bar. Despite numerous attempts to kill his past life, old training died hard. The colonel had begun grooming Finn very early for a life he’d never wanted. It had caused a rift between father and son, and as soon as he was able Finn had rushed to join the Army to get away from the old man. How ironic, that as an adult, Finn had unknowingly worked for the colonel. Now, it seemed, even Brynn had been unable to escape the colonel’s web.

Finn forced the anger at his father down. He had no time to dwell on the past. He led Doc to an old ladder at the back of the kitchen, and they climbed to the roof. There, Finn placed a few planks he’d set aside ahead of time across the gap between buildings. 

“You’re nuts if you think I’m crossing that,” Doc said, then noticed more armed men entering the bar below. Doc found his courage and eased himself across the makeshift bridge.

A terrifying jump from one rooftop to another and a few more ladders and they were back on the ground. Finn led them to a small door in the alley. He grimaced as he placed his left hand against the scanner pad hanging next to the door. The pad made an angry noise, blared red, and refused to open. 

Finn scowled and pulled a small device from his sweatshirt pocket and inserted it into the keypad’s data port. He’d grabbed the device, and the gun in his waistband, from a stash he kept under the floorboards of the storeroom. 

“Pretty sure that’s not legal tech,” Doc said as the door chirped and clicked open. “But I guess that’s the smallest felony I’ve been a party to this afternoon.”

Finn gave him a glance that said, ‘you sure you’re up for this?’ A calm look crossed Doc’s face, and he nodded. Finn pulled the door open and motioned for Doc to enter the small garage. Doc eased inside. A large mass covered in a tarp dominated the room. Finn pulled the tarp off to reveal a late model sedan. 

Finn got behind the wheel, and Doc sat in the passenger seat. 

Lex open the door.

The squeal of a long unused motor broke the silence and a garage door lifted into the ceiling. Finn started the car, rammed it into drive, and surged into the alley. 

Half an hour later, sure nobody had tailed them, Finn pulled onto a service road. Dozens of identical buildings lined the street. They were near the port where hundreds of the structures created a maze. Finn killed the engine. 

“This is it,” Doc said, pointing to a squat two story. 

Finn scanned the area, but they were alone. He pulled the pistol from his waistband, checked the safety and the cartridge and looked at Doc.

“Under normal circumstances, I’m not a fan of guns,” Doc said, “but today has proven the exception.”

Doc flexed his bandaged hand. Guilt wormed its way into Finn’s guts, but he shoved it down. There was no time for that now. “How’s the hand?”

Doc looked down on it. “Hurts like a son of a bitch, but I’ll get proper treatment when this is all through.”

Finn nodded, and both men exited the car. Spotlights illuminated the doorways up and down the long row of buildings. A few doors down, a light flickered and went dark. Finn’s hackles rose. “Classic technique,” he muttered. He stared into the murk, seeking hidden opponents. 

Lex, are you sensing any active lattice links?

Nothing but the normal passive security links for the warehouses. This place is as dead as disco.

You are one weird bastard, Lex. Finn shook his head and wondered again why the hell Brynn had given him Lex. 

That hurts my feelings.

Doc had walked up to the building indicated in the map. A high-tech lock secured the door. A quick survey of nearby doors told Finn that the new lock was abnormal.

What did you get yourself into, Brynn? 

Doc looked to Finn, who nodded. Doc sent the code from his banner into the lock and, after a few seconds, a happy chirp and a pleasant green glow rewarded them. A moment later, the sound of heavy bolts retracted from the doorframe and the door opened.

Finn motioned for Doc to stay back as he hefted his pistol and entered the dark building. Dim lighting came on as Finn entered, tripped by motion sensors. The room was a simple 20×20 square. A small bed and fridge lined one wall. A couch sat towards the back of the room facing a holo-vis. A small kitchenette rounded out the luxury. Another door was set into the back wall. On the wall next to the door was a small security monitor showing a long hallway of nearly identical doors.

At the center of the room sat a large crate on a raised dais. It reminded Finn of a coffin in an ancient vampire movie…if the vampire had been an alien. The crate was modern malplast and held a banner panel at its center. Cool air suggested the room was climate controlled. Another door at the back led to a hallway bearing dozens of identical doors. After assuring himself that the place was safe, Finn returned to the front. 

“It’s safe, Doc.”

“So, what’s all this then?” Doc said as he entered. Finn flipped the main power switch. More lights came on and a low hum rose from underneath them. Finn saw a metal grate in the floor near the far wall. He lifted the grate, revealing a small fusion generator. Cables snaked from the generator up into the floor below the mysterious crate.

“That thing puts out a crap load of power,” Finn said. “What the hell is in that crate?”

“Only one way to find out,” Doc said, raising his hand again.

Finn nodded and Doc sent the code to the banner panel. The crate powered up, and the surface parted as if it were undergoing a controlled melting. Inside sat another coffin of glass, plymetal and malplast.

“It’s a neural immersion rig. This technology was tested at my old hospital when it was still in the prototype phase. It was a program designed to help vets with PTSD through direct neural interface. They commercialized the technology for the NI helmets the beta players used to get into the Realms. But this unit looks more advanced than any I’ve ever seen.” Doc tapped at the interface.

“This is how Brynn wants me to go into the Realms?” 

“Makes sense. It has built in biosensors and life support. Quite an advantage.”

Finn nodded. “Time to open her up.” Doc moved towards the NI rig and placed his hand atop it.

Finn, I’m sensing an encrypted lattice link, Lex said.

Then they were no longer alone.