Shepherd by KH LeMoyne Page B

illumination in Down Below indicated the ruins were close to the city’s perimeter.
    Esme squinted at the oddly symmetrical lines buried beneath the cracks and debris. No doorway showed, but there was definitely an outline of a boarded-up window partially visible behind uneven wooden planks.
    He gave her a quick look over his shoulder, and her annoyance deepened. Clearly, he couldn’t decide whether to leave her alone, in his fortress, with his network. “Haven’t I earned at least one or two credits of trust yet?”
    A small twitch jerked the corner of his mouth. His metallic patch whirred open and shut so fast she couldn’t tell the color of his eye. Without a response, he keyed in several sequences on his keypad, turned, and grabbed an ion laser cannon from the shelf at the edge of his console. “Don’t leave. Don’t touch anything.” He reached the end of the hallway near the exit, weapon lashed to his forearm beneath his black fiber weave coat, before she had a chance to question him. The heavy clang of the outer door vibrated beneath her feet as a red signal flashed in the corner of the security grid. The door lock registered active.
    “Aye aye, Captain,” she muttered as she took his cockpit seat at the console, the recycled plastic still warm from his body. She tucked her bare feet beneath her and scanned through the images now spread in an arc around her.
    In spite of his last-minute security commands, she could hack her way through his system, disable the locks to the front door, and be gone before he returned. However, if she had wanted to leave, she would have bailed after he let her out of the containment room. Pulling a mesh of wires from beneath her shirt, she carefully slid her fingers into the matrix. Tiny thermo-sensitive pads graced each finger. A slight pressure adhered them tight enough to register her pulse. The additional circuitry aligned to mimic Clay’s specific heat register and pressure. With a tentative touch on his console, she flexed her fingers, allowing the open-weave glove of fibers and signals to adjust to her body’s rhythm. Then she increased their range to transmit Clay’s speed at the console and his electronic security signature. Each person’s was as distinctive to a knowledgeable tracker as his target’s fingerprint.
    The past several screens flew past. Yeah, she was still good.
    She squinted at the rubble and pressed her thumb to the security pad. The mesh would reinforce the last access—being Clay’s. Fortunately, he hadn’t bothered with a retinal lock. Several reverse navigation commands and a few strategic guesses later, the security access to the network turned green, and his remote camera administration panel blinked at her from a new angle.
    Not quite the full assortment of options she would have chosen, but hackers couldn’t be choosy.
    Vibrations of Clay’s signature in the network cloud echoed along the nerves in her hand. The intensity and heat thrummed along her skin, like memories of his earlier touches. She shivered and gritted her teeth. Focusing on the new sensations he’d elicited wasn’t going to help her or him.
    Following his echo along the network, she moved her virtual signal forward and back, scoping each pathway. She paused at the intersection of the New Delphi transmission networks, where the physical relay towers and signal amplifiers resided. Finally, resources she could use. She assessed this hour’s mapping of Clay’s cyber pathways—his messages surfed in encrypted layers beneath the New Delphi public-broadcast-system bandwidth. Those pathways would most likely change several times before the day’s end, acknowledging access and updates only to those who Clay designated.
    Her target wasn’t his list, only the physical touch points of the pathway. Chewing at her lower lip, she downloaded drivers and versions for each bit of hardware. Then, selecting the ones she wanted, she rerouted services and node interfaces, constructing a