Chapter 29: Return

Chapter 29: Return

The old man moved with startling agility. In moments he’d shredded the blanket, one hand knife-edged and driving toward my throat.

By then I was already behind him. I hooked my fingers like pincers and dug into the upper back of his neck—the key junction of the neural network.

The Sweeper files were clear: every AI micro-bio brain–computer interface connected through the human neural network. The microelectronic intelligent-brain module also relied on the human body’s neurons in order to command the whole body.

I drove my fingers in and hooked. Something like a black caterpillar surfaced. My other hand clamped his neck at an angle, and the device came free.

The old man collapsed almost instantly. Without the module, he was no threat.

I didn’t call attention to what I’d done. Instead I picked up the module and studied it.

I’d never seen anything so precise. Flexible integrated material, the outer layer crawling with minuscule cilia. I tried placing it into the back of my own neck and gently sensing it.

Instant tingling. Nanomaterials seeping toward my cervical nerve center. I pulled it away.

I had no intention of installing it. I only wanted to see what it felt like.

Still, that brief attempt gave me a different sense of my previous skill replication—more efficient, more direct. Faster.

I placed the module against my neck again. Once it connected, information and skills flooded my brain like a breaking tide.

At the base I’d only been copying in secret. This was direct transmission. I got a little drunk on the rush.

The martial techniques in my mind organized themselves into something systematic. More importantly, a new skill came through: penetrating-wave modulation.

I tested it. An ability to adjust micro-electrical wave bands. Different wavelengths—terahertz, infrared, microwave, radio—penetrate differently, reveal different images. The adjustable waves also carried communication functions.

I removed the module and tried adjusting with my own brainpower. It worked, noticeably weaker but functional. Things I couldn’t see before—someone on the other side of a wall—used to require same-frequency sensing. Now I could see an image directly.

With the module in place, the image would be sharper.

Even so, I wasn’t installing it. The thing definitely had tracking. If it could explode, I’d die even more stupidly.

I went to the window. Dawn lightening the sky, but I could see sentries moving inside the walls. I could even hear them whispering.

Not bad. It almost felt like someone had delivered me a gift.

Of course it had actually been dangerous. If I hadn’t sensed the abnormality in advance, I might already have been crippled here in prison.

Whoever could deploy an AI like this old man likely had deeper backing than the Sweepers. Min Long counted as one of their better fighters, but compared to this old man there was still a gap. This old man had almost no humanity left.

He wasn’t dead, just lying on the bed glaring with defiant, unconvinced eyes, like a rooster that had lost a fight.

He reminded me of the condemned I had seen in the incapacitated people’s district, with that unavoidable dejection and bodily pain. This old man was temporarily incapacitated, like a computer with its CPU pulled. Unless I plugged it back in.

Not happening.

Six days passed. Just when I thought I could relax, the third ordeal arrived.

Detention centers hold suspects whose guilt hasn’t been established. Without sufficient evidence or a filed prosecution, release is mandatory within fifteen days.

That’s the law.

The police aren’t Sweepers. They have to follow it.

I was sure the Du Group’s lawyers were working the case.

I’d counted the days. The deadline had arrived. Without new evidence, they had to release me. And I’d done nothing. So on that last day my mood lightened.

At noon, during the group meal, people lined up for food. I was in line too, so I didn’t expect anyone to attack me in front of…