The Lobos loped through the woods, mindful of the large bear following them. Greymane snarled as he smelled the nearby mountain lion had pissed in its territory again. He stopped, raising a leg to erase the insult to his claim. The paw caught him on his hindquarters spinning him about and tossing him into the brush.

  “No stop!” HoneyBear growled. Greymane’s mate, Longtail, crouched beside him protectively snarling. The heavy packs she carried were loaded with their supplies. Greymane pushed past her, hackles raised.

  “That damn lion, Padric, has been marking! In my territory! Again! It's not right!” He howled.

  “No rights! House arrest!” HoneyBear roared standing on her hind legs.

  Greymane was no fool, he backed down quickly. He shook his head. The horrible, itchy restraint collar was a sign of weakness. That damn Badger Mort! The damn rodent had given it to Greymane as punishment for the crime of crossing into human territory and endangering the animal enclave. It disabled his gifts, the power given by the prophet Harambe, and his Aug berries.

  How the little shit had managed to become an elected leader of the many Tribes was unfathomable. It was a mockery of natural law. Couldn't they all see it stank of human corruption?!

  “If our wise leader would let us hunt or at least use the Giving Trees, we wouldn't need to haul this food back to our younglings. This is blasphemy.” Greymane growled, picking up the packs that he had dropped when struck by HoneyBear’s blow.

  “You prisoner. Bad. Make humans mad. Animals scared.” HoneyBear said, landing on all fours and digging into the earth with her massive claws.

  Greymane shook his head but he and Longtail resumed their jog back to the wolf den, tails between their legs. It was no use arguing with the bear. She was too dumb. How Mort had convinced the erratic bear to her current job as his bodyguard was beyond him. Despite the lack of audience, he continued his tirade against the so-called Tribal government, the humans, the manifest destiny of animal kind, and general complaints about his restrictions.

  His sour mood finally lightened as his den was within scent range. He heard the excited yips and howls as his cubs smelled them coming. He smiled a toothy grin. He had approached from upwind to see if they were paying attention. At least some animals would learn their rightful place in the natural order.

  Ashe Menendez loved her job. Working for the leader of the Samaritans, the Queen of Daemons herself, was a real flex. The ability to pull rank on local enforcement types was a trip and her work was always interesting. Ashe lost her parents in the Ought-Fifties and wanted to make a difference.

  Now she was wearing the form and identity of the large ursine HoneyBear. She snorted seeing the dangerous pair of wolves transform from recalcitrant terrorists to loving parents in the time it took to wag a tail. She turned and left the den, content that the punishment and restrictions placed on the wolves were working…for the moment.

  As she lumbered back to the Tribal Council, she rumbled a low growl. So far, her disguise had been perfect. The real HoneyBear had made it deep into human rural territory, getting captured trying to free animals from the zoo in Bridgeport. Several humans had been killed as the bear’s uplift virus had still been hot or weaponized.

  The bear was currently in full VR lockdown at a Samaritan safehouse in New Haven with her brother Benny supervising. Her augments were blatant copies of human format with minimal alterations to accommodate the differences in biology. While the authorities hadn’t been able to disable her via augment overrides, due to her wireless systems being offline; they were able to physically lock her down when they found the proper interface codes.

  Ashe had made excellent time on the way back to the Founder’s Tree, only stopping to check in briefly to make sure the mountain lion wasn't wandering or eating others of the Tribe, the awakened animals. Her infiltration reports back to HQ had been well received.

  She had already achieved her primary objective in doping the animals’ food source and their aug berry bushed to deactivate the weaponized sections of the Uplift virus. Now she was monitoring this local group for signs of terrorism.

  The animals were now self-policing and very much afraid of crossing the humans. They had formed a loose, nationwide communications, using their Tree network. Ashe hadn’t been able to crack that nut yet. The animals were able to share stories of human counter attacks which scared the piss out of them. In counterpoint, tales of successful collaborations were shown to be working for both groups. It had given the animals a lot to think about.

  Benny had confided to her that it was likely she would soon be activated to form a backchannel to the Grand Oaks Tribal leaders, currently headed by the badger named Mort. This bunch, with the exception of some hot heads like Greymane were actually very nice. Most of them were still very much wilderness creatures and unlikely to want to mix with humans.

  She chortled internally at how easily the animals had accepted her. Only the little squirrel, Flip, seemed to have reservations. She had been extra careful to avoid threatening behavior around him and it seemed to be working. A good thing too, since Flip and Mort were tight buddies.

  Both of those critters venerated some dog, some type of hero dog that helped depose the old leader and stopped outright conflict with the humans. He had provided critical instruction to helping Mort setup the animals’ crude society. Mort had used this dog’s reputation to get elected, saying he was only a regent for this great emancipator.

  Ashe shook her head in bemusement. If that dog wasn't careful, those two would try and get him crowned King of the Animals. The former house pet wasn't around anymore, likely a casualty in the violent transition as the animals woke to their intelligence. Ashe hadn't included him in her reports, due to conflicts with known details of the early days of the conflict. The way she had heard it; the Titan, Sebastian York aka Bill Mitchell, had apprehended the ringleader and human-killer Harambe.

  Too bad, she thought. It sounded like this Max had been a good boy. We could have used him here.

  Ashe ambled up to the central grove, where the animals had set up stacks of packaged meals for all who wanted in a makeshift storeroom. Many of the animals were busy exploring VR worlds now and were neglecting the work of foraging when the stimulus of carefree adventure could be found. She snorted again at how human they were acting.

  Mort was a busy little badger, flitting back and forth, networking with the animals and making sure they were adjusting well to the new reality. Despite his nervous disposition, he was highly energetic. And there was Flip, in the rafters of the room, watching her carefully, as always.

  “HoneyBear, you're b-back! Did the Lobos b-behave?” Mort asked.

  “Good. Still angry.” HoneyBear said as she sat down with a thump. She sniffed at some of the packs. The bear form prioritized scent sensing and the aroma of berries and nuts was making her salivate.

  “Hmm. Help y-yourself, HoneyBear. You've earned m-more than the normal s-share. I'm still trying to s-s-setup a system where schooling or c-community work pays, but we are still lacking s-specific g-goods that the Giving Trees can’t provide. Maybe I can c-create a services b-barter? Say, are you still having i-i..i-iss…ah, trouble accessing the Trees?” Mort asked his nose twitching.

  “No work. HoneyBear fail.” Ashe said, playing at hopelessness as she stuffed nuts into her mouth.

  “Perhaps I can h-help. A first for service b-barter. Max showed me how to access and t-together we entered the Tree Spirit. Are you willing to t-try?” Mort said nervously, Ashe didn't miss the quick look up to Flip, who looked down at her with intense scrutiny.

  She growled without thinking. This was a test. She shook her head, thinking fast. She didn't have the animals' built-in encryption keys. She had tried all her hacking skills and hadn't been able to get in. If she refused their help, they would only doubt her all the more.

  Maybe I can use this, she thought. My masking skills are prime, maybe I can acquire the keys while putting any suspicions down. Finally with a groan, she nodded.

  “Excellent! Now c-close your eyes and relax. Ignore all sounds, all s-scents, and open yourself so the ears inside can listen. Deep breaths and listen. S-Slower. Extend y-yourself.”

  Ashe felt the little badger’s access request plain as day while pretending to meditate. Ashe saw the notification window and swiped it away with a growl opening her eyes.

  “No Honey! Don’t s-swipe it away. Think “Yes” as c-clearly and loudly as you can inside your h-head.” Mort said curtly.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Ashe/Honey closed her eyes again and this time when the access request came, she said, “Yes!”

  “Ah ha, yes indeed. T-There we go. Now you just c-close your eyes again. I’ll guide you to the Tree Spirit and s-show you how to access the f-f-f-features available.”

  Ashe/Honey grunted but was smiling inside. As her life-stream recorder absorbed all the signals, Mort began the process of entering the Tree network.

  All your base are belong to us. She thought, parroting the old game phrase that her hacker trainer loved to quote. She noted and recorded all the menu screens as Mort showed her everything the animals had. She shivered as she noticed the little squirrel's avatar. Most wouldn't notice as he was close to invisible, but Ashe was a master at infiltration. She could “see” his VR ghost watching her very closely. She would need to play this slowly, but she couldn’t help a little smugness. She had cracked the Tree Net!

  The sniper scope reticle finally locked onto the target. Lena “Silent Snake” Alvarez cursed. Her audio app, "The Walls Have Ears" or Wall-Ear for short, wasn't working. Lena would stalk her potential targets days before her “hit” to be sure she knew their patterns.

  Wall-Ear always worked! Passively collecting audio snippets from public kiosks and embedded intelligence devices wasn't new tech. For it to glitch during her hunt was bad luck. She zoomed in. She loaded the lip-reading skill and focused on her enemy.

  Bo Mitchell had disappeared from the grid and withdrawn his active status in League of Assassins shortly after her missed hit on him. The judges had refused to give her credit to the fouled assassination attempt. She had wanted credit for the encounter, claiming Bo had engaged with overwatch security, which was against the rules. Unfortunately, the League reviewer AIs had declared the whole match up as invalid, costing her the prestige points.

  Now she couldn't even try again, with Bo going on hiatus! That bastard was afraid of her. She knew players like Bo as well as she knew herself. Eventually, he would feel the itch, the temptation of living on the edge, and he would be back. When that happened, Lena would be the first to punch his ticket.

  Lena's finger tightened on the trigger, but she hesitated. She wanted so bad to tag the slippery bastard, but he wasn't in the game right now. It wouldn't mean anything.

  “Control yourself, you bitch. Observe only.” She whispered. Winning right now was clocking him and learning his pattern. Her AI monitors had alerted her the second Bo had reappeared on the grid a week ago, but he still wasn’t active in the game.

  He had stayed in Washington D.C. for days, then bounced to several large cities. Now he was back in NYC, her turf. She didn't understand what the man was up to. She lost him several times as he frequented the UN secure facilities.

  Lena never stalked unarmed, and the AI drones providing security to the United Nations had warned her off as she had gotten too close. Finally, Bo was up to something. A trio of people and a mech were with him, all the humans were wearing Nomad anonymizing smart suits.

  Nomads were a pain in the butt for gamers like Lena. The suits' pixelated displays would throw images of faces and distortions that would confuse and distract all but the best AI image filters.

  Lena’s curiosity was in overdrive as was her annoyance. Bo was like a completely different person than when she'd last tracked him. No more media outlets, tech consults, Diamond Man promotions, or discussions with his sponsors. Lena couldn't get an ID on any of his new colleagues. Even the mech was a custom job with no serial numbers for her to snag.

  Bingo! It looks like they’re going into Heidleman’s Diner, Lena mused.

  The place was notorious at catering to lowlifes, techless, and criminals. A perfect place for people to meet and discuss less-than-legal business, and it looked like it was empty tonight. Now she really needed to tap in.

  Lena slung her rifle and pulled her chameleon cloak over. She ran lightly and silently, leaping alley after alley. Her destination was closer and with less elevation. The rooftop was covered with old tech exhausts and pigeon coops. She crept over the edge of the building and re-engaged her sniper scopes. Her new roost was perfectly positioned; her target and his partners were in the front window seats of the diner. Easy targets!

  She loaded her app, FB-Eye. It was once a daemon modeled after the famous deaf FBI agent named Sue Thomas. Lena had no use for historical representations and had stripped out the emulation and added more sub-AI processing power. She got text captions appearing on her HUD.

  She lased the window. Her rifle could pick up on the vibrations on the diner’s glass pane. Lena was used to going old school as her targets tried to disconnect, thinking it would help them evade her. The signals came back a little garbled, but the lip-reading app used it to build even more context. She “listened” intently.

  ---

  Bo: Thanks for coming. My Dad suggested that I talk to you if I ran into trouble.

  Subject 1: Of course, Bo. We all owe Bill too many favors to count. I’ve been getting feedback myself from my RUSA liaison regarding the portal tech. They're very concerned about national security and safety.

  Bo: I appreciate that. Bill filed all his global patents with restricted status. Only the highest-level government technical departments can access the details. We’re operating above board, with full transparency, but very few of our targeted install authorities seem eager to move forward

  Subject 1: That's the challenge we're facing. The RUSA and other agencies are wary of the implications and potential for misuse. Bill and New Dimensions hasn't revealed methods of manufacture and won't enable control oversight.

  Bo: If we were selling a new hyper-fast spaceship, would the governments deserve control override and full specs on our build? No way. Just think of this as a ship… without the ship.

  Subject 2: Kid, the gov has issues thinking outside the box like that. Stick to your strategy. Once its benefits become apparent, they’ll agree. I heard that Japan just activated one and has established itself as a primary partner to Mars Terraform. It’s just going to take time for some of the other dinosaurs to come around.

  Subject Mech: Master Bo, *** **** about Bill’s concerns **** his…ahem, his secret admirer and *** ***** threat.

  Bo: Ah. Thanks, Winston. Sorry, this is the real reason I needed to meet with you all. I can't mention any names but…Miriam, you were given secure communication, right?

  Subject 1: Yes, Bo. And I shared it securely with both Chucho and Emma.

  The mech Winston quivered oddly and spoke, his speech broken due to less visibility, his mech frame lacking lips for the program to read.

  Winston: - **** *** honor *** you. Rampart *** fan. ***lectable ***. Sorry.

  Bo: Not the time for that, Winston. Okay? Miriam, we may not have time for Earth’s governments to get on board. If “you know who” is right, we may have a lot of people in danger. Bill is hoping you might…set up some portals discretely. As insurance, you know?

  Lena’s brow furrowed. A memory niggling at the edge of her consciousness. She woke her AI, Sneaky Snek.

  [Snek - fast time, playback recording, and find probable ID matches on targets using images and context. Go.] Lena sent and resumed her discrete spying.

  Miriam: I understand. This is a delicate situation. Bill didn’t provide any details on this event you mentioned. Has he learned anything more?

  Bo: He hasn’t shared any details about that with me, but his last message was extremely focused on ensuring a gate is made available for every major city. He doesn’t trust that his new “friend’s” concern is properly prioritized for human lives.”

  Miriam: I’ve very discreetly researched some strange but pivotal events in the last twenty years, and that would definitely back up that opinion. We will do our best. The supplies you’ve provided will go far. This isn’t the first time the Samaritans have done what’s right, regardless of governmental blockheadedness.

  Bo: That only leaves the final thought. Emma?

  Lena’s AI pinged her with new data, but she stifled it, intent on the interesting conversation below her.

  Emma: Indeed. I’m very busy running SafetyCrèche, my current obligations to the Samaritans are light for a purpose, boy. Why did you insist on my attendance at this seditious gathering?

  Bo: How many Deep Dive VR addicts are you housing right now?

  Emma: Ah, I see now what you’re driving at. Globally, my company services about thirty million subscribers who refuse to exit VR for any purpose other than mandatory safety checks. I assure you, whatever you think is about to happen, their housing is absolutely safe. Each facility is fully contained, self-sufficient, and robust. They are verifiable bunkers, even by today’s standards.

  Bo: Today’s standards are history, Emma. This tech changes everything. It would be best if you had some rolling maintenance checks to get your navel-gazers more used to interruptions, and gates at every major facility, and maybe even modify their pods for mobility? Emma, I want to make sure my mother is safe.

  Emma: Ridiculous! You’re talking about major changes to our facilities and pod with interruptions in service! You expect me to take this on faith?! I’m sure you are overstating any concerns. Your father was always one to grandstand, and apparently his spawn takes after him.

  Bo: No need for faith, Emma. I’ve prepared a demo for you all. You want proof, I’ll give you proof.

  Lena gasped on the rooftop as a hole appeared in the middle of the empty dinner. One by one the conspirators cautiously stepped through the gate before it snapped shut. She bolted to her feet, unable to believe her eyes, when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

  Lena attempted to spin and activate her armor stinger projectiles, but she was frozen on place. She cursed internally, crashing against her own system as it locked her down. She struggled. This was impossible! She had so many cutouts and secure locks. No-one could lock her down so quickly.

  “Oh ho. A sloppy little spy trying to get da drop on da real thing. You got a lot of nerve, little girl. Ya wanna play in da shadows, ya gotta up your game girlie. Now we gonna wait real nice until they come back and we’ll talk about what we do wit you.”

  Lena’s blood turned to ice as the figure stepped around her into her view. A scrappy little Asian man smoking a disgusting cigarette. She railed physically, mentally, and electronically against her augs but finally admitted she was outmatched. Exhausted, she noticed Snek’s report icon blinking and was surprised when it opened with a nudge.

  Lena cringed. What have I got myself into? It was only a game.