Resistance by Samit Basu Read Free Book Online Page A

to know when to start paying attention: Ellis is talking about superhero ratings. Another of the new cybervillains has started posting millions of fake reviews on all the hero-for-hire sites: the Unit’s marketing team is talking to banks about installing their multi-step offline security systems. And it’s not just the villains: large groups of indie heroes are offering their services for ridiculously low rates, and writing glowing recommendations for each other. Hero guilds all over the world are in uproar. Uzma does not see what this has to do with the Unit, whose members don’t officially get paid, but then Ellis says something that makes even her sit up.
    “With your permission, I’d like to find the best hacker of the lot and add him or her to our roster of hopefuls,” says Ellis. “There’s no reason That Guy has to be one of the official seven – we could even have eight members. If we could find another Aman Sen, one not affiliated to a villain team, it would help us greatly.”
    “That’s assuming the original Aman Sen is not in hiding somewhere, and behind all this,” says Wingman.
    Jai shifts in his chair, and Uzma doesn’t need to look at him to know how much hatred that name stirs within him, under the layers of serenity instilled by her commands. She can feel it radiating from him.
    “Aman Sen is dead,” says Uzma, so subtly that no one in the room even realises she’s using her Voice. “I don’t want him brought up again.”
    The others nod obediently, in exact synchrony. Uzma stifles a pang of guilt.
    “Why are we here, Ellis?” she asks, tapping her coffee mug gently. “Does the world need saving again?”
    “Um, yes, like always,” says Ellis. “But before we get to that, Johns needs to brief you all on several fascinating developments from the world of science and technology. No, really, guys, he does. It’s all very important.”
    There’s a collective groan, and Anima opens her game holo-screen again, but Johns has been waiting for months to give the Unit his update, and he will not be denied. Ignoring the yawns and hostile stares, he taps his wrist, and speaks as a series of holograms unfold and dissolve on the table.
    Uzma does her best to stay focused as Johns speaks eloquently about braingate neural interface systems, new 3D printing techniques involving biobricks, genetically engineered plants that grow water bottles, new foldable flying cars, ultracapacitors, photovoltaic paints, and significant developments in wave, wind and space-harvested solar energy. Uzma knows it is vital that they all stay abreast of all this cutting-edge information, and she tries very hard to actually listen, but she cannot blame Wu for falling asleep when she does, and notes that even Wingman’s enthusiasm seems to be running low. She turns her thoughts, instead, to Aman. They’d fought the last time they’d met, when she had finally confessed that she was thinking of getting married to – who was it now? The human rights guy, yes. He’d said she’d never see him again. That had been two years ago. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. That T-shirt that the whole world seemed to be wearing now – that wasn’t even his face. She’d done her part, she’d Told everyone she knew who had seen him that it really was Aman on those shirts, that he was gone. And she’d waited for him to call her. And she was still waiting.
    She looks at Ellis again. He doesn’t seem particularly concerned – what new crisis is this, that can wait until the UN guy whose name she’s already forgotten finishes droning on about, what is it now, nanofilaments embedded in resins? Will it at least be an impending apocalypse, some super-threatening mega-adventure for which Uzma will be able to summon up the slightest bit of energy, motivation, interest even?
    Developments in science that would make everyone’s life better are a good thing, of course, but how do you deal with a world full of superhumans? What do you