Whispers of the Diamond: A Romance of Memory and Desire

Chapter 11 - Alex

 I'd had one of those mornings as I drove through the city, tracking the resistance this time would be a lot harder. Terra had escaped, which would mean they'd go deeper underground, and their actual headquarters we'd never managed to find.

I pulled over and grabbed my laptop. I had files from their servers that might give an idea of what they had planned, or what their next plan might be. If I could get ahead of them or lie in wait at their next target. This would give me a chance to apprehend Terra. To be honest, I was still against the kill order.

But first thing was first, I'd find her first, then deal with what came next. I wasn't entirely sure if I could kill the woman I loved, especially when you hate killing to start with. Sure, I'd done it in the past, but usually as a last resort. My first kill — Erin Conners — it had taken me weeks to find pieces to track down the people responsible for Terra's death but finally when face to face with Erin...

"Come on bitch," he'd growled after the first shot had taken out his knee. He was semi crouched applying pressure whilst glaring at me, I guess he thought he'd survive.

"We just wanted to live in peace,"

"There is no fucking peace you idiot, look around, you just shot me, and no one gives a shit," I hadn't really been listening beyond that point. My second shot had gone clean through his forehead, the explosion of blood and brains splattering the wall behind him as he crumbled to the ground. I'd been physically sick, but the three others were easier.

I flicked through the holographic display, searching through the files I'd acquired from their lair. There were various things on their recovery tech, plans for an access matrix—those were a lot of fun; we had something similar but far more adaptable. Also, information on their CTT (Conscience Transference Technology). They were still using second-generation technology, which gave us the advantage of being on fifth-generation technology now. To be fair, all our technology was ahead; we had the best scientists and tech people in the world doing the work. I do, however, remember the second-generation tech, and it was notoriously twitchy and could lose data during the transference. You'd wake up with a nasty headache and usually a nice gap in your memory. It could explain Terra's joining the resistance; they could theoretically remove portions of your memory and reprogram you. Fifth-generation technology has safeguards built in to prevent this. Hunters aren't too happy if you start messing with our heads.

I sighed and continued flicking through the data, plans for explosives, impact weapons, and various other tools notorious to the resistance. But as far as I could tell, there was nothing on their next plan; it was in whoever was planning the attacks' head. I growled in frustration and slammed my laptop shut. The holographic display fritzed then disappeared. It's worth noting these aren't the kind you know. These have a secondary display that emits above the device. It's quite cool, actually.

I rubbed my head at the temples, damn resurrection is a pain in the ass. It always left me feeling a little thrown as my brain adjusted to a new body, same brain, same biology but a younger body responds differently. It's nice to lose a couple of the aches and pains that plague me, but my brain had forgotten how to naturally operate without them.

I wrung my hands and settled back, closing my eyes slightly, then pulled away. I needed a new plan and so would head back to my shitty little flat in the middle of town. Some hunters had high penthouses in the bigger buildings, but I was barely home enough to justify the expenditure. Rent was not cheap in the London district, and landlords did not waste time with missed payments. You miss yours, you're out, and if you don't comply, they send us in to make you.

I hated those assignments; there's nothing worse than terrorizing some family who've had a bad run of luck, and in our world, that was so easy. Labor was minimal, and AI or robotics ran most industries now, though AI was heavily regulated now, especially after trying to kill us all. The major companies of the time were long gone, and most AI tech companies were in the government's pocket.

Still, none of this is going to help me find the resistance, and that was my aim. As I reached my apartment, I tossed my keys and gun on the side by the door and stalked to the fridge. Day-old Chinese would have to do. Throwing it into a bowl, I ate as I pulled up the surveillance footage from the attack. I hated watching my own demise, but this was unavoidable. The van came out of the left and ploughed right into the car. I was the target. The militia were well trained; they'd done this before. Their gunfire was incredibly precise. Had it not been, they'd have hit Terra too. They were in and gone in less than seven minutes. That was some impressive work, even trained Hunter Units or Military would have a tough time matching that. I flicked to another angle, this was from the left, and I could see a figure over by the driver's window, Terra, a motion of... concern? Regret? I wasn't sure, I didn't remember this, but then I'd lost 90 seconds of memory. The short-term memory storage was handy, but it seldom saved every moment until death and the few seconds after.

Still nothing useful. I followed them into their van and then tracked the van through London. They drove for a few miles before turning off. I lost them in the tunnels. I checked the footage over and over. They never came out of the other side. My brain clawed at information. Where did those tunnels go beyond end to end? I knew the answer was right there in the forefront, but I couldn't quite reach it. Why did I know those tunnels?