Deadly Portents

THE MUSE

-001-

Tabitha Creel had a bad feeling about the job.

The work itself wasn't the problem. She preferred running protection for data couriers to hunting them. It also paid better. Additionally, Starke-Lockley wasn't the sort of corporation to threaten her life for failing to perform, like her last employer did.

What troubled her was the courier she was escorting.

With corporate espionage potentially meaning the difference between bankruptcy and world domination, conglomerates realized they could no longer continue to trust blindly in the security of their network connections. They needed a more "hands-on" approach. Virtual data couriers, people willing to risk their lives jockeying sensitive information from point A to point B in the artificial realms of Vspace, became a thing.

Typically, the only people who volunteered to courier data were those with nothing left to lose. It was dangerous work, with constant threats from hunters sent to intercept the data on behalf of rival corporations. That was why companies like Starke-Lockley only recruited minimum-security prisoners, those willing to undertake the risk in exchange for years shaved off their sentences.

Assuming they kept their heads on straight and followed their guardian's instructions, they usually survived to deliver the company's data themselves. Otherwise, it was up to their protector, mercenaries like Creel, to extract the packet and deliver it the rest of the way.

The results were the same, but the loss of the courier came out of her bonus. That's why she preferred it when her charges shut up and paid attention.

From the moment she met him, Creel knew Tyler Hewitt was going to be a problem. Hewitt was a serial rapist and murderer, responsible for the deaths of dozens of young girls. By rights, he never should have been eligible for the courier program. The man had so many consecutive life sentences heaped upon his head that he would have to run data for the rest of his natural life just to work off his time.

Creel wasn't worried about him trying to escape. They were on the Grid, while his real body was in a secure holding facility owned by the corporation. If need be, they could pull his connection at a moment's notice. Her particular concerns were more about the man himself.

Even though the city around them was artificial, the hundreds of thousands of potential victims inhabiting it were very much real. In addition to protecting Hewitt from danger, Creel also had to protect the locals from him. Termination in Vspace usually resulted in the real world condition commonly referred to as brain-fry. It was a fate worse than death.

Up until now, her job as his babysitter had been uneventful. Hewitt downloaded the company's data into his avatar's VEPROM at the terminal station and they were on their way back. This was the point when they had to start worrying about attacks.

Rather than hurrying back to the portal exit like they were supposed to, however, he insisted on stopping to indulge in one of the perks that his newfound freedom afforded him.

"Oh!" he mewled through a mouthful of mustard and sauerkraut. "That's so good. You've no idea how badly I was craving one of these. Are you sure you don't want one?"

He held out his half-eaten pork schnitzel on rye, dripping its gooey contents by his feet. Creel shirked away from the sandwich with her nose turned up. She had no desire to try one of those things in real life, much less a virtual recreation of one.

"I'm sure," she nodded with disgust.

Hewitt was sitting by the fountain of a busy city center in Albion, one of the first and most densely populated systems on the Grid. He was lost to the taste sensation of his favorite meal, completely ignoring the danger that his rest stop had placed them both. Around them, people were passing by everywhere. Any of them could be a potential assassin. Creel was doing her best to keep an eye out for trouble, standing between him and the bulk of the passersby, but the flood of bodies coming and going made security impossible.