Subverting The World [Cyber] - Chapter 28
No. 1007 was gone.
Shi Xu had seen this coming. She knew full well that once No. 1007 regained consciousness, she wouldn’t sit quietly in confinement.
In the event of a power failure, the prison’s cell doors default to a locked state—mechanically secured, yes, but still vulnerable to someone who knows how to pick them.
Still, Shi Xu had no time to worry about No. 1007 in the moment. It had taken everything she had to stop her earlier—from blinding force to near-fatal suppression. That she was still breathing was a miracle.
With parts of the prison in chaos, bionic staff were low on energy reserves and couldn’t be deployed outside. Shi Xu was forced to reroute half of the available units to charge.
They were short-handed.
Shi Xu checked the emergency response network—only half the staff could make it in that day. The rest were stranded too far from the prison.
The first wave of flesh-and-bl00d reinforcements would take 35 minutes to arrive.
A lot had been damaged. Repairs needed to start immediately.
She didn’t know where No. 1007 had gone. She didn’t know what would happen to No. 1009 either.
Her first stop: Cell 1009.
Inside, a man sat slumped against the wall, face buried in his hands, sobbing like a child who had just been cast out of his home.
“I didn’t mean to, I swear… I’m so sorry to my parents, my grandma—God, I didn’t want this…”
No. 1009, who had always been forgettable and quiet, now wept like a broken man.
Then he saw her.
“Warden! Warden, it’s me!” He lunged toward the cell door, gripped the bars with both hands, and cried out, “Don’t you recognize me? I came in with you—I’m SB250!”
Shi Xu stopped cold.
She did remember SB250. A Black man with tight curls and a smile full of white teeth—very distinct.
The man in the cell? White skin. Large nose. Drooping eyelids. Not even close.
Still, the man—No. 1009—kept shouting, desperate.
“They don’t believe me, but it’s true! I look like 1009 now, sure—but I’m not! I swear!”
The prison’s AI chimed in with mechanical indifference.
“Warden, our scans confirm this individual is prisoner No. 1009. All biometric data, including DNA, matches.”
Shi Xu replied flatly, “That’s biology. Not identity.”
She then asked a question only the real SB250 would know:
“Who gave you your name?”
“My mom,” he answered quickly. “My dad wasn’t allowed to name me. Naming rights go to the eldest woman in the family. My father died when I was eight.”
Shi Xu blinked. A curious detail.
I’ll have to look that up later, she thought.
“I didn’t ask for your life story,” she said, rubbing her temple. “Just tell me: what was your crime?”
SB250 answered, “I tried to custom-order my parents from a fertility factory. Turns out, that’s illegal if the child does the customizing—but if it’s the parents customizing their child, it’s totally fine. Just a fee.”
Shi Xu sighed. “That mouth… yeah, it really is him.”
She turned to the AI. “Status on prisoner No. 1000?”
“Currently being retrieved,” the AI responded. “Located at the swimming pool. But based on vital signs… prisoner No. 1000 is clinically dead.”
Shi Xu closed her eyes for a moment. “I thought so…”
The name “1009” still sat above this man’s head in the system. But Shi Xu could see something no one else could—a massive, glowing SB250 etched across his form. Proof of his true self.
The AI couldn’t detect this. And she couldn’t let it know she could.
That was why she had acted fast, reaching Morgan as soon as the power went down. Better to work backwards from outcomes.
At least, this time, the AI accepted her conclusion.
——Shi Xu made her way to the pool.
SB250’s body lay there—undeniably dead.
But something still felt… off. Her instincts were screaming at her.
“Show me every bit of footage you have from the pool,” she told the AI.
“Understood,” it replied. Cameras flicked on, showing only a brief segment—just the time of death.
“Why is there nothing before that?” she asked, then sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Never mind. I cut power to several systems myself.”
To prevent any tampering with the corpse, she issued a firm order:
“Once power’s restored tomorrow, toss him straight into the incinerator.”
The AI, always proper, prompted her:
“Warden, note: disrespect toward corpses is prohibited under prison code.”
Shi Xu muttered, “I’d rather throw him in a blender.”
“That is also not permitted,” the AI responded flatly.
“Fine,” she said, disappointed.
The AI added, “I didn’t expect such behavior from you. Adjusting my understanding of your moral profile… Uploading new data.”
“This isn’t something you need to log,” Shi Xu replied curtly.
Then she turned and left. No. 1007 still hadn’t surfaced.
The easiest method to find them would be to gather all inmates, scan through, and identify the anomaly.
But that process was slow and messy.
Instead, she locked the prison down. No movement. All prisoners to remain in their cells.
She made her rounds quickly. 1007 wasn’t in their cell, and no escape alerts had been triggered. That meant they were still inside the compound.
But where?
She strengthened the guards around the kitchen and storage—anywhere food might be found—and waited for reinforcements to arrive.
If she were No. 1007… she’d bide her time. Wait for the right moment to vanish.
With the facility undergoing repairs, outside contractors were the only people allowed in or out—maintenance teams and waste haulers. Construction debris couldn’t be incinerated; it had to be transported.
The prison was crawling with outsiders lately. It was the perfect cover.
Shi Xu saw the risk. She canceled all scheduled inmate releases for the week to keep them from mingling with civilians.
No. 1007 would know this too.
They had only one chance left.
Reinforcements arrived 35 minutes later.
She had them inspect everything again—no anomalies, except one: the mole’s presence was still holding steady at 100%.
Two officers were assigned to escort the network repair crew. The next target: restoring power to the outer grid.
Still no word from 1007. Or 1009.
She activated the incinerator herself.
Before the body was burned, she decided to check the morgue.
For safety, she had it locked down previously—nothing in, nothing out.
——Ten minutes earlier.
No. 1000’s body twitched on the morgue’s cold table. A few spasms. Like a fish gasping in air—or a paralyzed man regaining control of new limbs.
Then he stirred.
SB250 had clawed his way back into No. 1000’s body.
Still dazed, he managed to sit up and crawl to the door, banging on it with both fists.
“Hey! Anyone out there? I’m locked in!”
Staff was thin. Bionic workers were on mandatory recharge. The odds were slim—but he took the risk.
He banged and shouted until—finally—a human guard came down the hall, yawning, clearly annoyed.
“I got trapped inside. I’m freezing in here—please, open up!” SB250 pleaded.
The guard looked him over skeptically. “How’d you even get in there? You trying to pull a jailbreak or something?”
SB250 didn’t answer. He just looked blankly, letting the man finish the thought for him.
“Yeah, figures. Trying to escape,” the guard muttered. “Lucky you found me. If the warden caught you first, you’d be done for.”
He rubbed his hands together greedily. “Still, I’ll get a bonus for this…”
Shi Xu had instituted a bonus system—rewards for capturing escapees.
She’d even issued a directive: never patrol the morgue alone.
This guard? Had clicked past all her notices without reading a word.
He opened the door.
SB250 slammed him down with a sharp elbow.
The man barely reacted before SB250 sprinted away.
Reaching for the alarm, the guard saw:
“NETWORK UNAVAILABLE IN THIS AREA.”
And then—darkness.
Before he passed out, he saw another figure appear at the corridor’s end—his shift partner.
“What the hell did you do? The warden said never patrol the morgue alone!”
“I was looking for you—what took you so long?” the second guard shouted.
“Damn it… I’m never pulling solo duty again…”
And with that thought, he blacked out.
The second guard ran over, shaking him. “Hey, how much did you drain? Get up.”
He exhaled in relief when the man stirred and pushed him off.
“I’m fine,” the man said coldly.
The tone had shifted—imperceptibly, but it had.
Something subtle had changed in the man who now opened his eyes.