“Do you know what this is?” Sam Sam asked.
The device looked almost like a dental pick, or like an old—school mouth thermometer. However, the other end of the tool looked identical to a thumb drive, complete with a plug to allow connection to a computer.
Karl shook his head.
“This is called a ‘data pick,’ ” Sam Sam explained. “You ever seen one before?”
Again, Karl shook his head. “But I’ve heard of them.”
“You get the basic gist, then? It can store cerebral data just like any hard drive can. In fact, one end can plug into a computer so you can use that data without a C.C. The other end—”
“Plugs into me,” Karl interrupted.
Sam Sam smiled with warmth. “That’s right,” he said. “Though I’ve heard it’s entirely painless. The needle is incredibly small—microscopic, in fact. It’s just a quick prick into your spine—”
Karl raised his hand, interrupting again. “Thanks,” he said. “But I don’t need all the details. Is this entirely necessary?”
“To get Maynard onto the network, I’m afraid so,” Sam Sam said. Then, sensing the psychologist’s next question, he continued. “And that’s our only way out of here. We have to take care of the cameras.”
I don’t have to do anything, actually, Karl thought to himself.
He felt a firm nagging come from within in response. He tried to ignore it for a few seconds, but couldn’t, and gave Maynard enough power to speak.
“The only other choice is life in prison, Karl,” Maynard said.
Not so, Karl replied. I can appeal. I can try my case over and over until the evidence arises in my favor and I walk free. These aren’t the old days, Maynard. A man cannot spend his life in prison for nothing.
“Such a naive answer,” the I.I. said. “You have no evidence to make such claims. No one would ever hear from the innocent if they had no voice. Someone is working against us. As long as we have that to contend with, we will always be at a disadvantage. Your chance for freedom is here. Take it!”
But will it be freedom? Karl asked. Will we not just become fugitives? We will always have to watch our backs, taking extra measures to remain unseen at all times. Is that actually freedom?
“No,” Maynard replied. “But it’s a means to achieve it. There’s a traitor out there, and as long as he remains unexposed, we will have to run. But we can’t expose him from in here. Karl, we need to be out there before we can even try for real freedom.”
But what if we never catch him?
“Then we’ll have tried.”
“Karl?” Sam Sam said, breaking through the psychologist’s thoughts. “What do you say?”
Karl pondered for a moment before nodding, his lips pursed.
“Just turn around. This will only take few seconds,” the data runner instructed.
The psychologist did as he was told. He could feel his skin run cold, the blood draining from it. His hands became clammy, and sweat started to dribble out from his hairline.
“Just a deep breath.”
He inhaled.
The needle went in, and he felt his spine lock up. There was a sharp feeling along his neck muscles, but it wasn’t painful. It was more like a sudden and simultaneous relaxation of all the muscle cells in his neck.
The best way he could describe it was uncomfortable. Incredibly uncomfortable.
“There,” Sam Sam said, withdrawing the data pick. “Not so bad, right?”
Karl rubbed the spot where the needle had penetrated. He’d expected to feel sore, but he felt nothing at all. Still, he rubbed.
“Strange,” he replied.
Sam Sam turned around, holding the data pick like it was made of glass, and plugged it into the nearby workstation.
“This will take just a moment,” the data runner said with his back turned. He moved the mouse a bit and clicked on something. “Okay, he’s in. He’s down for this plan, right? I forgot to ask. I just assumed.”
“He’s agreeable,” Karl said.
“Good. I should have double-checked, though,” Sam Sam said. There was a pause, then, “How is it, sharing a brain with an I.I.?”
“Difficult,” Karl said.
They were both quiet. Then there were two sharp knocks on the door they had come through.
Karl jumped to his feet, his heart leaping even higher. He grabbed the bundle of guard’s clothes meant for him and held it in front of him like a shield.
“Relax,” Sam Sam said. “That’s just the signal. The cameras have been taken care of.”
The psychologist took a moment to calm his pulse before he noticed Sam Sam approaching him with the data pick.
“Just one more injection, Karl,” the data runner said. “That is, assuming you want Maynard back.”
Karl sighed a little, then turned around.
This time he felt nothing.
“Long time no see,” the I.I. said inside Karl’s mind.
“There you are,” Sam Sam said. “Now get dressed. We don’t have a long window to get to the car.”
“Car?” Karl echoed.
“That’s right. Our way outta here.”
Karl took the answer at face value and turned to the pile of clothes designated for him. Sam Sam seemed to sense his hesitation.
“My guards are just outside the door, playing lookout,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about anyone walking in on us.”
Karl nodded and started putting the clothes on. The pants were a little long for him, but he tucked the excess up into the hem to make it look like a perfect fit. After he had taken the socks, he realized there was an ID badge just under the clothes. It had his photograph in it, somehow taken to look professional, and the name on it was Steven Patricks.
“That’s your name for the escape,” Sam Sam said, checking himself for any imperfections. “If anyone asks, that’s who you are. You got it?”
“Got it.”
Karl double-checked his own uniform once everything was on. He made sure his badge would be easy to see, but not attract attention. He looked up at the data runner, who had his ear pressed to the door.
“All good?” he asked
