Isolation Read Free

seemed to be even more mysterious lately. “Any chance you’ll let me in on my next glorious part in it?”
    “I delight in talking to you, Heron,” said the voice. “You’re so much more personable than the other Partials.”
    “I’ll try to take that as a compliment.”
    “You should. I have a mission for you, because I know that you’re clever enough to manage it. I need a map of the munitions factory complex: all buildings, all hallways, all rooms, from the roofs all the way down to the basements and subbasements. Be sure to call out key locations and defenses. I need this information as quickly as possible.”
    “Because you’re going to invade,” said Heron.
    “And clever, too,” said the voice. “Get me my map. Confirm.”
    “Confirm,” said Heron. It wasn’t a code word, just a protocol the officer had. He treats me like a computer program, or a trained animal. The thought shot through her mind, but she dismissed it. This was the way it had always been, and she had a job to do. The connection was severed, and she turned off the scrambler. She adjusted her skirt and straightened her jacket and walked out into the busy factory.
    The factory complex was a hive of constant activity: five buildings already crowded with workers and machinery, now doubly crowded with soldiers trying to set up a military headquarters. The bulk of both armies, Wu’s and Bao’s, were outside, spread through the city to make them less of a target for Partial air strikes; but even so, the factory was filled with men and women in uniform, the assistants and aides and messengers of two generals’ retinues. Heron walked through the hall to the main factory floor of Building 3, where hordes of men in thick leather aprons crawled in and around the massive machinery that processed ore into bullets. China had rejected the expanded use of intelligent biotechnology on moral grounds, if not outright religious ones, and though the factory still used certain engineered bacterial cultures in the metal-cleansing process, they had nothing so advanced as a BioSynth—not a Partial, nor even a Watchdog. Their skill in robotics, on the other hand, was impressive, and Heron watched with respect as the fully automated, self-sustaining monstrosities collected the ore, refined it, and pressed it into millions of rounds of ammunition of every shape and size. Zuoquan supplied much of the northern Chinese army with their munitions, and when the Partials took the factory, it would supply them with the same. The invasion hinged on it, in a very real sense.
    But why had her handler insisted that the generals get there safely? The complex would be easier to take without them, for the Chinese would defend it now more vigorously than ever. She did not like being kept in the dark, no matter how much her handler patted her on the head and called her a good little Partial.
    She reached a side corner of Building 3, where a door led out into the courtyard. She stepped outside and pulled out her phone, activating one of the hidden bits of software she’d installed on the Chinese army’s otherwise standard-issue device: a GPS mapper, which worked in real time to track her movements and relay them through the Chinese’s own satellite system to the NADI Task Force and the Partial troops. She walked back through the door, and the system began building a map of every step she took. With enough walking, and if she was thorough, it would construct a 3-D map of the entire complex. She glanced at her watch and estimated that she would have enough time to map about half of Building 3 before General Wu needed her for the next strategy meeting. Heron made sure the ribbons on her jacket were in their proper position, marking her as a member of the general’s staff. No one would bother her.
    She cursed mildly, wishing she’d worn more comfortable shoes. She would be walking for hours.
    The glamorous life of a spy.

PARAGEN BIOSYNTH GROWTH AND TRAINING FACILITY,