《Artem-TailSpin {A Cyberpunk LitRPG Adventure}》 0-Pim-Where creatures lay 0_PIM The pen was a bouncing jumble of fur, metal tech, and squeaking. Its rusted hinges threatened to give way with every vibration. Pim¡¯s brothers and sisters leaped all around him. With a shake of his head, the tiniest of them all could only crawl out of the way and join Pim hiding in the corner. They were the same every day, and they were always disappointed. Nobody wanted mutts. Even smart mutts. Nobody wanted part fur, part metal, and all noise. He looked across at his brothers and sisters; they calmed down now, realizing once more no one had approached their pen. They were not wanted. Then Pim saw him. A sharply dressed man who stared at him, contemplation etched on his deeply wrinkled forehead. The shopkeeper beside him hurriedly looked through drawer after drawer. ¡°I have it here. I swear I do,¡± he muttered. The man said nothing, his foot tapping slightly on the dirty floor. ¡°Davey, get out here. You cleared my papers; where¡¯s the contract?¡± As the shopkeeper¡¯s words grew louder and louder, his face changed from pink to bright red. ¡°Davey! Get out here now!¡± No one came. The suited man never took his eyes off of Pim. ¡°Davey, I swear, if you don¡¯t get out here right now!¡± The shopkeeper¡¯s shouting grew even more desperate, his face flushed and his chest heaving in and out. ¡°I swear, we don¡¯t owe that much.¡± The man ignored the shopkeeper and edged forward. ¡°What is it? It looks like a fat dog crossed with a rat.¡± ¡°Never seen a walrat?¡± the shopkeeper inquired; his tone was suddenly different, so very different. That caused the tiny bundle next to Pim to cover his head once more. ¡°Dumpy little thing,¡± the man said. ¡°I don¡¯t care how you do it; just get those credits.¡± Large hands reached over the pen fencing, and his siblings began jumping up and down, trying to be spotted first. This man, though, had his sights set on the smallest, Pim¡¯s little brother. ¡°The Techean created them, cross between a walrus and a rat. Good at depths, and smart. Don¡¯t know why they domesticated them here, but they did. I like them, they sell well as pets.¡± ¡°Son¡¯s birthday is in a few days; this will suffice. I¡¯m taking it.¡± ¡°Hardly worth anything, that one,¡± the shopkeeper grumbled. ¡°Doesn¡¯t even try to market himself.¡± He went to another pen and chose a long-haired white rabbit. ¡°This is one of our most cherished frishon adairs. Several thousand credits.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want anything worth thousands of credits.¡± Something in this man¡¯s eyes echoed what was in Pim¡¯s heart, overwhelming sadness. Pim sucked in a breath and almost choked. ¡°He¡¯ll most certainly kill it in a few days.¡± ¡°Kill?¡± The owner¡¯s face paled, and his breathing became even more rapid. He repositioned the rabbit so the man could no longer see it. The man didn¡¯t care. His fixation was on Pim. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. The young walrat watched as he picked up one of his brothers with such rough hands, he let out a whimper and tried his best to flee. ¡°Sir, you have one of Artem¡¯s smartest creatures in your hands; why would he kill it?¡± They had all heard the words kill, death, and the end. The man met the shopkeeper¡¯s eyes with his own. ¡°They are odd; a walrat, you say. Smart?¡± ¡°Extremely smart,¡± the shopkeeper replied, his hands trembling. ¡°That one is best out of the litter.¡± When his brother¡¯s eyes met Pim¡¯s, tears welled up inside his own. ¡°No.¡± Pim sucked in a breath and puffed out his chest in an attempt to make him seem the better choice. He had to make a stand now or he would lose his brother. He could not let him die. His brother really was the best of the litter. Pim¡¯s tech looked awful against his drab coat, whereas his brothers were all shiny and pure. He edged forward, slow and low. This was his choice, and he made it with only one thought in his mind. His brother needed to survive. ¡°Pim, Pim!¡± his brother cried out, as tears flowed down over his soft white fur. ¡°No. Bite him and flee . . .¡± Pim nudged the man¡¯s other hand with his nose, bringing the attention back to him. ¡°Very smart,¡± the man agreed and put the dark-furred kit aside to pick up the interested one. ¡°Be thankful,¡± Pim said. ¡°Live long and well, brother. Live for all of us.¡± *** Pim was jostled about as the man walked, crammed into a very small box with a window at one end. Pim tried his hardest to stay close enough to the window to get some fresh air and see what was going on outside. He¡¯d sat at the edge of their cage for a long time, viewing anything he could from the outside world. The breeze carried aromas of something moist and musty. Images flashed by at breakneck speed. Slowly, he said. Please slow down. The man, on the other hand, did not slow down. Pim was thrown inside a car, and it filled his perspective. As his back leg twisted awkwardly under him, he let out a growl. ¡°Don¡¯t have any notions in there,¡± cautioned the man who had taken him. Pim slid to the rear of his box. There was nothing to see now, save the back of the man¡¯s seat. Everything vibrated around him, followed by acceleration. Were they flying? Pim could sense it, but he didn¡¯t know how. This was strange since the man wasn¡¯t walking anymore, yet it was quick, so fast. Pim retched as his stomach somersaulted. ¡°You had better not be sick in there!¡± Pim concentrated deeply into himself. Words from his mother came to him as he travelled through the birth canal and entered the world. ¡°You must endure for the sake of all of us.¡± He endured. He gulped the bile down, which burned his throat as it passed. He then pushed himself to step into the corner, curl up, and pull up his HUD, noting many variations.
Identification: Pim Age: 42 days
Weight: 6 lb Weight: Adult ??
Species: Walrat Bonus: None
Mod Capacity: 8 Mod Capacity in Use: 0
Stat Current Points Description Mods Quality
Dexterity 4 Governs agility and movement. Front Left and Right Leg Mod: 0 Cost: 0
Mental Power 4 Governs swiftness and fortitude of the mind. Brain Mod: 0 Cost: 0
Perception 8 Governs an individual¡¯s senses and connection to the world around them. Brain Mod: Cost: 0
Strength 4 Governs physical strength and damage dealt. Back Left and Right Leg Mod: 0 Cost: 0
Toughness 4 Governs the body and internal fortitude. Basic Organelles: Cost: 0
His leg was swollen but not broken. He stretched it towards him, then softly licked it and preened the fur as best he could to get it straight again so he could look his finest. 1 - Rankins Shop 1-134 - 13th December¨CAge 17 Artem, Mega-City, Upper Ferris. I turned over in my bed; the springs squeaked, and I stared up as the view of the cracked ceiling above me faded. Like a wave, Aug-World (AW) took over my whole room, and the ceiling was replaced by perfectly painted, yet old-school cornice, swirling-patterned and plastered crap I knew as artex, and a glittering white and metallic ceiling fan. The fan was always on no matter how much I tried to get it to turn off. Instinctively, I shivered, the cold air blowing over my semi-naked form even if it wasn¡¯t real. I always appreciated the space I had set up using my credits in AW, and I could only dream that my dilapidated broken bedroom could one day look like this. The stained sheets also turned white, the floor grew a carpet, and the door made of chipboard turned into varnished oak. Instead of the stench of mold, my nose was touched gently with the scent of pine and oh, gods, soap. What I wouldn¡¯t give for a shower with soap right now . . . just like using hot water, we¡¯d run out, and food took priority. This trip into the higher tiered area in AW was likely my last for a while. To spend time in this area cost money, and it was all I had left in credits. I couldn¡¯t even sell them, they were so few, so I¡¯d chosen to use them, and this morning I was meeting Bail in one of the most expensive areas of Upper Ferris. Bail was my best friend. We¡¯d known each other since preschool, and even though my mom had pulled me out because of costs, choosing to homeschool me till we got our keystone mods, we¡¯d stayed close. With my mind, I dangled my feet over the end of the bed. They touched the carpet, feeling the soft pile underneath them, and I scrunched my toes into it. My feet were just as clean as the room. That I had wished, too, though I knew they were not. Not at all. Even though my body never really moved, I stood, testing my feet. Then I sat back down to put boots on. I didn¡¯t hesitate when I headed for the door and exited the house. The dank dirty streets, like myself and my room, were pristine, where buildings that had been made of anything going were now designed to the hilt, seemingly made from the finest bricks, metals, and woods money could buy. I walked fast, taking turn after turn. I had no credits for instant travel, and that meant I had to walk. My concrete city gradually turned into a suburban collection of streets with houses and gardens as I walked. Cherry blossom trees decorated this street, and today they¡¯d decided to bloom. I paused to take in the very subtle yet drifting smell of lilac, rose, and almonds, looking up the street to Rankin¡¯s chop shop, the sun in the distance. This. This was beyond beautiful, and I stared for quite some time before heading down to the shop. I wished I could use Aug-World all the time, but it cost credits, credits I couldn¡¯t spare right now. so I''d be left with the basic, free version. That sucked, no access to anything this beautiful at least for a while. Bail¡¯s leather jacket, padded combat pants, and red spider T-shirt were easy to spot on the other side of the street as he stood waiting for me. I coughed on my approach, added in a ¡°Hey,¡± and he turned. ¡°You sure you want to do this?¡± Bail asked, his bright glasses, his recent choice of eye tech, were glinting in the sunlight. He was not rich by any means, but he¡¯d saved just as hard as I had for an upgrade. Even if this was the cheapest version going, it was still better than ¡°normal¡± eyes. ¡°You want that part for the car, don¡¯t you?¡± Bail lowered his head, his face flushed. ¡°If I can get it in today, it would really give you an extra edge for the race tonight.¡± ¡°If you think he¡¯ll deliver it, and you can install it before the race, then we¡¯re buying it. We decided weeks ago that we would if I could get enough credits.¡± I moved to push the shop door open, but he put his hand out to stop me. ¡°Rus, you¡¯re getting evicted. You could really use that money. Stay in the block.¡± I put my hand on his. ¡°Sergeant Vrolk is going to kick us out, even with the money. This is about principle now.¡± ¡°If you win tonight, you¡¯ll have more than enough money, right?¡± On the inside, I grimaced, but he deserved honesty. He and our other friend, Daisy, had totally backed me a hundred percent, always. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Bail,¡± I said. ¡°Every day, what we owe goes up, and I can¡¯t guess it. It could be a lot more than what I win tonight.¡± Bail¡¯s usual grin fell, and he frowned so deeply it added ten years to him. ¡°I don¡¯t want to lose you.¡± I slapped him on the shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t be an idiot, where am I gonna go? The best jobs are around here; add in the extra money from racing, it¡¯s a win-win.¡± ¡°Rus¡ª¡± he carried on. I turned away and finally pushed open the door, entering Rankin¡¯s shop. It was easy to get lost in Aug-Word, wandering around the shelves, checking out the car parts and prices. The tech he had in here. So easy. I didn¡¯t have anywhere near enough credits to get lost or to enjoy browsing. Not anymore. I checked my remaining time.
Aug-World (AW) Credits = 0 Time Remaining = 12 minutes.
I never had enough time. I never had enough money, or well, I just never had enough of anything. Rankin¡¯s stony eyes never left me, and he watched my every move in his domain; he had seen me before, many times. He¡¯d also chased my ass out many times. ¡°Come on, kid, you shouldn¡¯t be in here. This is a shop, not a place to keep browsing.¡± ¡°Bail?¡± I called, knowing Rankin had been watching him, as well. That guy had cameras everywhere, even though this ¡°shop¡± was fully online, a virtual world which imitated one of the real ones he might have, somewhere. Bail appeared from one of the aisles. ¡°Got it,¡± he said, and he held up a shiny silver filter. ¡°Took me a while to find the one I wanted.¡± ¡°Are you buying?¡± Rankin asked. ¡°Waited for your sale,¡± Bail added. ¡°Fifteen percent off, right?¡± Rankin¡¯s eyes furrowed. ¡°Ten,¡± he growled, his dog ears flat to his head. ¡°Okay,¡± Bail said. ¡°Ten it is. We¡¯ll take it, on the condition that you can get it delivered in less than six hours.¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°Where to?¡± Rankin asked, his hands flicking over his desk unit, bringing up a map of our area. Bail moved forward, and with a quick flick of his wrist, he sent his garage address over to the keeper. ¡°Might take seven. That¡¯s a fair way from me.¡± Rankin groaned. Bail fell silent, weighing the time and cost while my stomach churned. That tiny part really would make a difference. The fuel would get through the engine so much better, which meant the car would respond faster, and I had much more of a chance of winning my race. ¡°Okay,¡± Bail said and held his hand out. Rankin shook it, and my best friend¡¯s face paled. I¡¯d saved a long time for that money, and it was gone in seconds. I checked my time again.
Aug-World (AW) Credits = 0 Time Remaining = 5 minutes.
¡°Bail,¡± I said, getting his attention. ¡°I gotta go. I¡¯ll message you later, yeah?¡± Bail turned to me and smiled. ¡°You okay?¡± ¡°I¡¯m gonna be blind from today. Till I get some more AWC.¡± ¡°Shit, that sucks.¡± His eyes fell; he knew ¡°blind¡± meant the absolute worst: I would be cut off from Aug-World, cut off from instant contact with everyone through their system, the net. If I messaged anyone, it had to be text again, old school. His crooked face held the one thing I hated the most. Sympathy. I left them finishing the deal off, and I walked a few blocks. Aug-World shopping was a breeze. In here, you could see anything, be anything with enough money. I wanted one more look at my dream. Just one more while I had the time. I entered the next shop, with the bell jingling above me. It always made me smile. ¡°Back so soon, Master Korolyov?¡± the sweet young woman I knew as Fay asked from behind the counter. ¡°Last chance for a while,¡± I replied. ¡°Would you like to see the usual?¡± I nodded, and within a moment she appeared in her sales assistant suit. She made me laugh. Suited and booted, yet her pink-tipped, spiked hair, plaited in long white tails down each shoulder gave away a wilder side. She pressed play on lot item 1017 and the instructions flashed up. I always read them, even if I knew every single word.
Spinal TAP = Public Information
This mod necessitates a full spinal replacement from L5 to C1 and is a true scientific marvel, designed to integrate seamlessly with the body¡¯s neural network, allowing precise control signals to be sent and received between organic and inorganic constructs. Once the spinal implant is in place, the TAP is connected to a left and right branch. At the end of each branch is a node which acts as the intended vehicle¡¯s eyes. For example: Tier 1 has two spinal branches, four nodes, to Tier 5 which would have the maximum of seventeen branches and thirty-four nodes. This mod enables the user to control a variety of vehicles and devices, within a limited distance and without requiring actual physical input. The control signals are routed through the owners¡¯ neural network by a series of specialized sensors and processors built into the implant itself and utilizing Aug-World. This enables precise and responsive control, even in extremely stressful situations requiring split-second decisions. The implantation process is delicate and complex, necessitating the collaboration of a team of highly skilled and accredited M-Corp surgeons and medical professionals to ensure that the implant is properly installed and fully functional. The implant is made of a variety of advanced materials, including carbon fibers, titanium alloys, and biocompatible polymers, all of which have been carefully chosen to provide the necessary strength, durability, and compatibility with the human body. This mod is a critical and life-changing technology for those who wish to rely on the TAP for daily activities, allowing them to interact with the world in previously impossible ways. It exemplifies the power of human ingenuity as well as the remarkable capabilities of modern medicine and engineering from M-Corp¡¯s finest.
The skeleton structure of the human spine showed first, rotating, from L5 to C1, then the tech appeared alongside it. The new fully reconstructed metal spine perfectly aligned with the curve of your body, and from each vertebra, like the branches of a tree, split what M-Corp called nodes, numbered for ease and up to a maximum of 17. I could do nothing but stare at these glorified and highly modified bionics. Tier 1 of 5. Trash, Basic, Professional, Elite, and Artisan. But perhaps the only tier I could ever afford. I read over its details yet again, dreaming of one day owning something so wonderful.
Spinal TAP ¨C X2/10 *X Two-Ten* Tier: One
M-Corp¡¯s Xenith Series ¨C Three Branches = 6 nodes. Unlike Spinal Reinforcement Mods, the Spinal TAP is of the highest-level M-Corp can provide in spinal science. This mod requires a full spinal replacement L5 to C1 and is a scientific marvel, allowing precise control signals to be sent and received between organic and inorganic constructs. To use this model, you must learn to separate your mind. Training starts, of course, into two, then three, then up to the maximum of four. WARNING: Implantation is delicate and complex, requiring a team of highly skilled and accredited M-Corp surgeons and medical professionals to properly install the implant. A full consultation with a TAP Specialist is advised to discuss suitability for this procedure. It is not for the faint of heart. A very strong will and strong stomach for pain is a must. (M-Corp holds no responsibility if this surgery goes wrong even if a legitimate consultation is on record and it is performed by an M-Corp accredited surgeon) Warranty: Zero
Durability: 100/100 Slot Cost: 12 - Credit Cost - 9,999
With up to six silver titanium nodes directly connected to your spine, you will be able to feel and see everything of the item you¡¯re controlling, be it mecha, military tech, or drone. You will be in perfect harmony with anything you pilot. If I could afford it, this model would become one with each and every nerve in my body. I was totally ignoring warnings coming with the surgery. I let out a deep sigh as I sat there; the slot cost alone for the mod¡ªtwelve!¡ªmeant it was way out of my reach. Just like the life I wanted. Pilot.
Aug-World (AW) Credits = 0 Time Remaining = 15 seconds.
I let the image of the TAP fade. ¡°Thanks for the look, Fay. I¡¯ll see you around, yeah.¡± She didn¡¯t get to respond. My time was up. My bedroom came back into view, and I stretched, banging my elbow on the wall. Fucking stupid funny bone. Was. Not. Funny! Mornings were always my time in Aug-World. I got up early every single day, 4 a.m. early, when the cost of jacking in was always the lowest, when there were fewer . . . people. It was a transitional time. Those who stayed up late had gone to bed; those who slept late were not awake yet. It was peaceful. It was heaven. Circumstances over the last few days had me doing everything in a blind rush. I¡¯d come in from my second job and found the notice on the door, calling Bail right away. As a family, we were out of time.
FINAL EVICTION NOTICE Arrears = -3500 - Pay up or get out! Signed - Sgt. Vrolk.
There were no other chances for us. We¡¯d been living hand to mouth since . . . well, since my stepfather, Tsomak, had injured himself. No work, no money, no food, no nothing. Tsomak had been injured in training. Fucking training. My biological father had died at the last wall breach. Being injured meant Tsomak was only earning half wages. And half wages meant no food and just enough money to pay the rent. A slap on our kitchen table echoed in my mind, and I jumped, just like I knew my mom would have upstairs. The yelling started immediately after. I didn¡¯t need to leave the house just yet, but I really ought to. This wasn¡¯t going to go down well. There hadn¡¯t been a single day recently that had. Tsomak¡¯s voice carried, just like his slap had. ¡°If he doesn¡¯t get that money by tonight, there¡¯s nothing I can do.¡± Everything rested on my shoulders, on the upgrade to my car, and my race tonight. My HUD¡¯s clock currently showed the local time as 5:21 a.m. I wasn¡¯t supposed to leave until much later today, but I desperately wanted to get away now. My mom¡¯s cries were heard next, begging and pleading. But she was powerless to change the situation. There was nothing she could do, absolutely nothing. And as much as I hated to say it, there was nothing Tsomak could do, either. We¡¯d been slated for eviction for months. Each of us was responsible for covering our own living expenses. I didn¡¯t have any kind of stable job and despite my parents doing their best to assist me financially, we had gotten behind on the rent payments. Our need for food was obvious, and this was the final straw. Either pony up the cash or get out. 2 -The Duan Leeatre 2-134 - 13th December¨CAge 17 Our front door opened, then banged shut. Low cries wafted down the hallway. I waited a fraction of a minute longer, slid my holey boots on, then padded up the few steps leading to our primary living quarters. Mom sat with her head in her hands, her gray-streaked hair damp from a cold shower, no doubt, flat to her head. ¡°Mom,¡± I whispered. ¡°Are you okay?¡± With wet, stained cheeks and red, raw eyes, she looked up at me. ¡°Rus,¡± she said, then apologized, ¡°Didn¡¯t mean to wake you.¡± Mom wiped the tears with the back of her hand and extended a hand for me. I approached, and she immediately threw her arms around me, hugging me tight. ¡°You know how he is,¡± she muttered. ¡°The injury . . .¡± Sadly, I did. I knew all too well. In the past several weeks, Mom had started working a new job, and I had been racing on the street, doing whatever I could to earn some extra money. Even though it had been a successful week, tonight¡¯s race was the one that counted most. I was desperate for a number one victory. Mom gave me another squeeze and pushed back, fixing her hair. I sat, then poured myself some water. The growl from my stomach was audible enough for her to hear. ¡°I can fix you some eggs?¡± I nodded, and my stomach growled again. ¡°Thanks, Mom.¡± It didn¡¯t take her long, the fat splashing and eggs crackling in the pan as she gently fried them. The burnt smell of long-overused fat stung my nostrils. I gulped down my water in the vain hope it would satisfy my appetite. It did not. When she finally put the eggs in front of me, I was already too hungry to eat them, and nausea spread through my body. I would eat them, though. ¡°What if I lose?¡± I asked her, picking up my spork and taking a bite of egg white first. We might not have had any money, but she always made perfect eggs. The fat, though old, tasted of bacon, and the slightly sweet and peppery taste caught me by surprise, as usual. Mom turned to the sink and ran just enough water to wipe the pan clean before returning to the table and saying, ¡°If you lose, we can¡¯t pay the rent, and we¡¯re out.¡± Her shoulders slumped. ¡°There¡¯s nothing else we can do.¡± ¡°Mom, it¡¯s January,¡± I cautioned, beginning to sense the most trying months of the year. ¡°Where would we go?¡± ¡°Back to Roterdon,¡± she suggested. I finished the last bite of eggs, wishing there had been more, and then I went to give her another embrace. ¡°We¡¯ll be okay,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡± ¡°Call at the market on your way home,¡± she said and turned back to the table to steady herself. ¡°Pick us up something nice.¡± I nodded, but she couldn¡¯t see. ¡°I will. I¡¯ll head out now, see if I can grab some work with Tsomak.¡± ¡°Go easy on him,¡± my mom begged. ¡°This isn¡¯t his fault.¡± I didn¡¯t answer her. Of course, it was his fault¡ªstupid injury. I grabbed my coat off of the back door before I left, slipping it on. My coat was far too thin for the weather, and it was too short in the arms. The wind was biting. I had sprouted up over the course of the previous year, but due to the lack of food, I was tall and slender. That was good, however, for racing. The majority of my friends in this area were considerably more muscular, and the added weight slowed them down ever so slightly during a race. I was always one step ahead of the competition due to my size. I cinched the coat around me even more tightly, put my arms into alternative sleeves to keep them warm, and walked a little faster. Our home was only thirty minutes away from the city¡¯s job boards, and my HUD showed me Tsomak¡¯s flashing, moving icon; he had a significant head start. *** It took me some time walking and sprinting to catch up to him. That was fine. When I came upon him, he was standing by the roadside and kicking the curb. I was able to catch his attention. Only two or three other men were in the area at this time of the morning. Maybe he hadn¡¯t been paying attention, and the bus had already come and gone. That would be terrible. I knew he wanted the work; we needed it, and we were all up well before time. I stood next to him, and he cast a glance in my direction. Those eyes . . . I¡¯d never seen him show such strong feelings before. It caused me to take a step back. His shoulders sagged forward, and he asked in a hushed tone, ¡°Why on earth did you follow me?¡± ¡°Thought we¡¯d have a better chance to work together,¡± I answered honestly. It was the truth. The board¡¯s job list flickered from one display to the next. I might have had no credits left for AW, but the city made it so normal people could see things, jobs, ads . . . sales. The two of us together, a worker and a laborer, meant that, even if the pay was low, we¡¯d be more likely to be taken on as a team for a job than someone else who was working alone. ¡°They been yet?¡± ¡°Bus is late,¡± someone else moaned beside me. When I looked around, I saw Lex, who was one of our neighbors. His glum expression conveyed he was much more aware than most were about our situation. ¡°Unusual,¡± I said, my eyes drifting down the street. Wonder what was holding it up? It wasn¡¯t only unusual; it was so late that the second lot of drifters made an appearance. The work queue was huge. Tsomak¡¯s face fell as the manager picked all the other crews but us. It was becoming increasingly unlikely that we would get anything for the day. The manager¡¯s eyes fell on him. ¡°You run top rope?¡± he asked. Tsomak¡¯s eyes came my way. ¡°Rusty can.¡± What? He used my nickname! He never called me Rusty, only Rus or Ruslan. ¡°What level?¡± ¡°Seven, I think,¡± he replied. What? Crap, he¡¯d volunteered me. Why? He needed the work. That was a stupid move. I met the manager¡¯s eyes with mine. ¡°Sir,¡± I said. ¡°Yes, sir, level seven.¡± ¡°Get on,¡± he commanded, waving his hand at the doorway. I turned to Tsomak for help. ¡°Go,¡± he ordered and shoved something in my hand. His knife. ¡°Your mother has probably asked you to get something nice to eat for dinner, so put in some extra effort at work. Tonight, we¡¯ll talk about it.¡± The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. At a loss for words, all I could do was nod and hurry to catch the bus before it drove away without me. There were no seats available, so I had no choice but to stand in the back and watch Tsomak leave, having suffered yet another defeat. The bus jerked hard, and up into the air we went. A couple of the surrounding guys groaned, but not me. The higher we went, the better I felt. Running rope, on the other hand. I heaved a sigh. It was a slang term for people who ran on high-altitude tracks. Shuttles would bring the materials up to the higher levels, and the workers running rope would unload the materials, also known as hand-balling, for the others who needed them. It was the most efficient and cost-effective method of transporting supplies to the higher floors of a building. Today was going to be hard, very hard. Staring through the front windows of the bus, I could see our destination: the most popular structure in the High Roller Hotelier¡¯s portfolio spanned the skyline. This was the Duan Leeatre. I¡¯d been here before. Most of us had. It was the ¡°job¡± that was most convenient for us, and it had been going on for a good number of months. The Duan Leeatre vanished from view as we drew in closer. The dirty streets went with it as it turned to rough, patchy ground. We slowed, entering the one-way system around the bottom of the tower. The bus stopped, and several crews got off. When the bus set off again, it was in a circular rotation around the central tower. It stopped at every job site going up before it got anywhere near where I¡¯d be. At least when the bus was empty, I got to sit and look out the window. Even a hundred stories up, I stared yet even higher at the marvel she was. Her info popped up in the corner of my HUD. I flicked over it quickly, already knowing the details by heart.
M-Corp Construction = Duan Leeatre
Luxury Military Complex Height = 830 Meters Stories = 160
Min worker level = 5 Cost: 4.5 Billion
It was for the middle/first-class officers within M-Corp¡¯s Military.
SITE SAFETY Safety protocols and building regulations will be adhered to at all times. Strict punishments will be dealt out, including removal from the workers site registry if you do not comply.
I dismissed the message. She might not have been the largest structure around, but she certainly was a luxury. The internal spire that extended high into our atmosphere was made of one of the most visually appealing substances known to man, harvested and carved by M-Corp¡¯s finest craftsmen. In the soft light of the early morning, it reflected gorgeous hues of orange, yellow, and even pink as the rays of our sun bounced off of it. This, this is what I was made for. Finally, the bus came to a complete stop. There were only four of us left, and I went to get off with the others. I followed them to the exit. The manager held a hand up, stopping me. ¡°You¡¯ll be on the next floor.¡± ¡°Next floor?¡± I was more than confused. This was the last one. I was sure of it. Yet the doors closed, and we went up again. ¡°VIP,¡± he said. ¡°I checked your file. Best runner out there. You¡¯re here for the day.¡± When he stopped this time, the open doorway was not the same as it had been before. He instructed me, ¡°Report to Velas. He¡¯ll make sure you¡¯re settled in for the day.¡± I took a moment to catch my breath before alighting. ¡°Do I get anything extra, being up here?¡± He cocked an eyebrow at me. ¡°Extra?¡± Then his eyes traced over my frame. ¡°Been a tough few weeks, kid?¡± I merely gave him a simple nod, fully aware of what he was seeing: a scrawny youngster who hadn¡¯t eaten properly in weeks. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure you¡¯re on the roster for food. You¡¯ll eat with the others today.¡± My stomach growled at this already. ¡°Appreciated.¡± I stepped off the bus onto the open ramp. ¡°Good luck,¡± he called after me. After they had gone, I turned my head to gaze at my surroundings. The vast majority of people would never do this. For me, it was well worth it to get to this height to see the views. As I looked down, there was a gentle procession of puffy clouds passing me by. Even though it was still early in the morning, the sun managed to catch them with its dazzling rays. I had only been watching for a short while when I noticed the first shuttle approaching the landing pad below us. From here it was even easier to see the big four. M-Corps mega structure towered over everything. One of the major researchers and powerhouses in the city, glass, steel and chrome rose higher and higher, much higher than the Duan. M-Corp didn''t hide anything, neon lights adorned large stretches of the tower with their symbol everywhere, the Laughing Cat. Everyone knew that the sleekness to that building was just a cover. I didn¡¯t need to guess they had weapons, defences and AIs hidden everywhere, that was a given. They would punish anyone trying to defy their strength and power. What I loved to see more than anything though were the even higher towers, several flat areas, helopads, from whence M-Corp sent helicopters and drone pilots out to dominate the skies of the city and beyond. That was the job I¡¯d die for, that was everything I ever wanted since the first day I heard them and then saw them flying overhead with my father. I knew from this angle I could barely see the other structures, but they were there. The Armed Brigade and Takemoto Towers. I¡¯d seen many pictures of them in Aug-World too. What I never understood though was the Living Earth.I¡¯d never met an Elf, but they were apparently everywhere. Hidden in plain sight or something. Their building had plants all over it, plants that actually grew. I¡¯d love to see that building up close it fascinated me more than M-Corps. ¡°Hey, kid,¡± someone shouted, and I heard footsteps behind me. It brought me out of my daydreaming of flying around the big four. I whirled around to see who had approached. I could only speculate it was Velas. He wore no shirt, and his muscles, tattoos, and tech were all out on show. His long dark hair was tied back, and he had a slight graying beard to match. He wore cargo pants and a utility belt fit to bursting. It was clear he was some type of carver. ¡°Always something delivered late. You¡¯re working with me,¡± he said. ¡°In a few minutes, a shuttle will arrive; you know the drill, quicker to get it up here than by service shaft. Even if we hate using shuttles. She¡¯s got another delivery to be made, and we have to make sure she stays on schedule. Even if we¡¯re behind. Get her cargo out as soon as possible, as safe as possible. I don¡¯t need to tell you how expensive stuff is, right?¡± ¡°No, sir. On it,¡± I said, moving to stand before him on the small gangway. ¡°Rus,¡± I greeted him, giving both of his metallic arms a glance while extending my hand. ¡°Velas,¡± he said and shook it, his grip light and cold. ¡°Master marble-layer.¡± I cast my eyes around. Everything really was made from marble. I let out a low whistle. ¡°Exactly,¡± he said. ¡°You can get the heavier items in with the help of drones, but this is the kind of goods that require a human touch. Dro¡ª¡± ¡°This high, they fail too often.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± He frowned, one of his hands running fingers through his beard. ¡°Been running long?¡± ¡°No, sir. Just when I can¡¯t race.¡± At this point, the engine of the shuttle could be heard, and he retreated. ¡°Go get her.¡± I moved off, then squeaked past him and onto the next set of tracks, down to where the shuttle would dock. It wasn¡¯t a massive shuttle¡ªit couldn¡¯t be around this delicate material. But when I saw the cargo, it was a box eight feet in length, spanning about the same in width. He hadn¡¯t been kidding. This was richer than rich. The money to get it up here via lift, or any other method, wouldn¡¯t be cost-effective. This was reinforced by the continual use of rope runners so high up, and rightly so; whoever was going to be up here in this suite wanted luxury, but luxury that still stayed within budget. The running tracks on the scaffolding that was on the side of the hotel were wide, but I noticed the incoming package was even wider. Shit, how was I supposed to even think about getting it in here? The shuttle pilot just watched. He had no intention of doing anything to help me. Asshole. At the end of the track sat the control for the drones. I grabbed a hold of it and made my way over to the shuttle, bringing the drones with me. I paused to use Appraisal:
M-Corp Delivery
Calcutta Marble Slabs x 4 Measurements: 5 ft x 12 ft, 3 inches thick Weight: 10,200 pounds/1157 kilograms Import and Transportation Costs - Added
Min Worker Level = 7 Cost: 8,400
The drones were capable of handling the weight, but because of its size, I¡¯d need to maneuver the packaged item above the track, and above the safety rails; there was no other way. Hooking the drones securely on the outer parcel wrapping, I clicked for them to lift. The whole thing slipped; they just managed to keep hold before it smashed into the shuttle deck. No, no, no. That wouldn¡¯t do. If I tried that outside, the whole thing could fall. I pulled out Tsomak¡¯s knife and did the one thing I knew I shouldn¡¯t. I slit the package open, exposing the precious cargo to the elements and to a much higher chance of falling. I swallowed. Looking down never did anything for me. I loved heights, but now . . . now I looked down and thought of nothing but this slab hitting the ground or¡ªshit¡ªsomeone. 3 - Place your bets! 3-134 - 13th December ¨C 5 p.m. ¨C Market It was freezing outside. I worked faster, needing to get warm, and the drones easily latched onto the solid material. Once they were secure, nothing slipped. After removing the materials from the shuttle with extreme caution, I had to force myself to swallow my pride and push them across the space that separated the shuttle and the track. The drones groaned in protest as they tried to secure themselves against the metal of the track. I needed to make a quick decision because the situation could easily spiral out of control. The more pressure they applied, the more difficult it became for me to move the tiles. I went into the configuration settings for the drones, and within a few short minutes, I had their program disabled. That was also something I probably shouldn¡¯t have done. This was so much easier on the lower levels of the building: When something fell off the track down there, it wasn¡¯t going to matter¡ªit wouldn¡¯t cause someone¡¯s death. If this thing fell¡ªheck, if anything fell, it was a potentially life-threatening accident. Shields, of course, were at various levels of the building, unless they¡¯d been taking shortcuts. In many of my previous jobs, there were no shields to protect the people below from debris. Taking my time, I moved with the drones while keeping my hand on the cargo to reassure myself I had complete command of the situation. I didn¡¯t. If it was going over, it would do so regardless of whether or not I had hold of it. The track went downhill, and I followed it all the way till I reached the bottom of the building and entered it to find the suite I had been working in. Velas was waiting for me with his hand on his hip when I arrived. ¡°Are you aware of how much that¡¯s worth?¡± he asked. After bringing the materials inside, I positioned them on the floor and gave him a slight nod. I¡¯d literally just seen it. ¡°Eight thousand four hundred credits,¡± I said. ¡°Give or take a few.¡± ¡°And what are you earning today?¡± I added it up and swallowed. ¡°Usually around a hundred.¡± Velas smiled. ¡°Never met a runner who took chances before. Rescheduling would have cost me a few months¡¯ work and time,¡± he said and held his hand out for the control pad. ¡°The remaining items in the cargo are a smaller size. You can give them to us by hand if you don¡¯t feel comfortable with the drones.¡± I smiled back at him. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I might take risks, but only if I thought I could handle them.¡± ¡°Noted,¡± he confirmed and then off he went. The drones were safely inside with that 8,400-credit cargo. I looked to the shuttle and checked the schedule showing on my HUD. Thirty minutes left in the window. I ran up the track and did exactly what Velas had asked, starting to hand-ball the rest off; no way would I trust the drones when I could carry these. That¡¯s why they called us runners, after all. The sweat ran off me, but there was no time to mess around. There were two more deliveries before morning break, one more before lunch, and the final delivery off-loaded and distributed to the right men before the dinner call came in. ¡°The next shuttle you¡¯ll like,¡± Velas said with a smile. When it came in, only two guys were needed to unpack the bags. I sat with Velas and the others as they spread out the contents. There was literally more food and supplemental drinks than I¡¯d seen in a long time. ¡°Help yourself. Anything you can eat.¡± Anything I could eat meant many things. Mostly, it meant not to make myself sick. ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, and I took a handful of sandwiches. I made sure I ate slowly enough not to vomit afterwards. The others all returned to work before their time was up; I needed the rest. ¡°Bus is back at seven,¡± Velas said. ¡°Would you stay late?¡± There was no way I could get home if I missed that bus. ¡°How late?¡± I thought of my mother, who was expecting me and food from the market. ¡°Does that matter?¡± he asked. ¡°I live on the west side. It¡¯s a long walk.¡± Velas spun his data pad around and looked over a few things. ¡°I can drop you to the west side, but I could do with an extra pair of hands till eight.¡± I could still make the market last call. ¡°What are you paying?¡± I asked. He frowned, ran his numbers again, I presumed, then met my eyes with his. ¡°I¡¯ll pay you for twenty minutes of online time and an extra twenty credits.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll stay.¡± ¡°Good lad.¡± Velas moved then, his bulk shifting the wooden slats under me. ¡°We¡¯ve two more deliveries this afternoon. You¡¯re in charge.¡± Ordering the older men around was actually pretty interesting. They didn¡¯t want to listen at first, but when Velas shot them a glare, they backed down. The loads came and went, and the materials were unloaded and distributed in no time. As a team, they all worked extremely well; with us keeping them going, it was even better. The bus came, and the crew left. So it was just me, Velas, and one other young lass. I¡¯d been surprised to see someone else of a similar age to me. There weren¡¯t many they¡¯d let up here, even if the labor was cheap. She wasn¡¯t thin, by any means, and she had almost as much muscle as Velas had. She wore shorts and a tank top, with a jacket and ratchet straps draped around her, and as my eyes traced over her bare skin, I caught the tell-tale signs of tech. Yes, holy shit! Her lower left leg and right arm were bionic. I¡¯d not seen anything like them before, but I knew they were hella expensive. How did she afford those if she really was the same age as me? Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Her eyes twinkled at me. ¡°Like what you see?¡± I coughed and looked away, heat flushing up my neck. ¡°What are we doing tonight, Dad?¡± she then said, and I had to do a double take. Dad? There was no family resemblance at all, apart from her build; she was still really short compared to the hulk of a man Velas was. ¡°Special delivery, Tae.¡± He smiled. ¡°Going into the master bedroom.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± That was cool. I¡¯d not been that deep into the suite as yet, and I was pretty glad. It was too rich for me. I was terrified I¡¯d damage something. By the time the shuttle came in and we offloaded its precious cargo of a bed and its internal components, it was clear that my sticky fingers didn¡¯t need to be near any of it. I stood and gawked at the room. ¡°Amazing, isn¡¯t it?¡± Tae asked. It was more than that. She handed me some slippers, to protect the flooring, and we both carefully moved the cargo into the room. Everything we touched in here was more expensive than the slab I¡¯d almost dropped this morning. Next, we helped Velas organize all the items. ¡°Ready for the first run in the morning,¡± he said while grinning as it got closer and closer to eight. ¡°Come on, Rus. I¡¯ll get you home.¡± On the ride home, I listened as he and Tae talked through the day¡¯s work and tomorrow¡¯s. ¡°Coming back tomorrow?¡± Velas asked and looked at me. ¡°I could do with some regular help around here.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± I replied honestly. ¡°I¡¯ll have to see what happens tonight.¡± I was glad he didn¡¯t pry. The last thing I wanted to do was to start telling strangers my life story, and it really did come down to what happened tonight.
M-Corp - Depository Credit Balance: 120c
Velas had transferred my pay for the day, a hundred and twenty credits and my screen time. Compared to that slab¡ªeight thousand four hundred¡ªyeah, it sucked. It was a bit of a longer walk back through the market. At this time of night, there weren¡¯t many people still hanging around. There was the odd seller who hadn¡¯t sold all of the things they needed to, and for most of us on the poorer end of town, that was a godsend. They never reduced their prices till the last minute. It meant there was always a handful of people waiting in the hopes there was something, anything left. I didn¡¯t have much hope, though. They usually gauged their sales really well, and only provided what they could sell. Otherwise, they risked everyone hanging around till last minute, hoping for a bargain, instead of selling it at full price. Some of the merchants would also rather let the food rot than sell it for a cheaper price. That meant that those who were hoping for cheaper food couldn¡¯t risk loitering about and waiting for the food sellers to drop their prices, or everyone would be going hungry together. I hadn¡¯t been this hungry in a while. Even with the food I had eaten throughout the day, I had fresh pay in my pockets and wanted more to eat. The sweet smell of cakes and fresh breads never stopped; the bakeries around here were constantly running. Cheap labor meant cheap foods. Buying their grains from the farming mills on the outskirts of the city, the bakeries only received the dregs of what the mills didn¡¯t sell elsewhere. But even so, the dregs still made for fine bread. My feet stopped outside one of the stalls that had almost packed up. ¡°Sorry kid, I¡¯m done for the day.¡± ¡°Nothing left at all?¡± I asked. ¡°One GM cake,¡± he said. ¡°Got a bit battered on the way down this morning, fucking ingredients are no way ¡®top quality,¡¯ and I paid full whack for them. They degraded way too fast. No one seemed to want to risk it.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take it,¡± I said. ¡°My mom wanted something nice, and I¡¯m really late.¡± I knew cake wasn¡¯t really cake, not like it used to be. Now only read of in story books, fresh ingredients, sweet jams and thick creams. It was genetically modified, but as he showed it to me, even with the sunken middle, it still looked like and smelled so good. I knew Mom would be happy. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look the best.¡± ¡°Looks good enough to me.¡± I smiled. Then I paid him and grimaced, five credits. At the far end of the market, I also managed to get some fake chicken meat and rice dishes, another five credits. This was going to be a really good dinner for us, even if I was late. I also grabbed some protein smoothies and meal bars from another vendor. These were a lot cheaper and would last me a couple of days. It took my spending to twenty credits. My HUD went off a few moments later with messages from Tsomak and my mom. I quickly messaged them both back saying I had worked late, and I would be home in ten minutes. The rain started up soon after, and I shivered with the cold. It was far too wintery to be out here without a thick coat, but I didn¡¯t have one that fit at all. Hopefully . . . if I could get out tonight and win the race I was in, I¡¯d be able to buy¡ªwho was I kidding. I needed, we needed, much more than just this one race. I reached the end of my street, the apartment block looming into view in all its degraded glory. It was nothing like the version AW had given me that morning. ¡°Hey, Mom,¡± I said as I walked through the door and gave her a small hug. ¡°You should have sent a message.¡± ¡°No signal up where I was. Top rope. Couldn¡¯t even get a text to you.¡± I saw her face fall; she knew what ¡°text¡± meant. No AWC. ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± she said through a forced smile, smoothing my hair down. Then she backed off and I sat. Mom grabbed a towel and roughly dried my soaked hair. ¡°You¡¯re freezing.¡± ¡°It¡¯s winter,¡± Tsomak said. Mom took the food from me, went to heat it in the microwave, then stopped herself. ¡°Not enough electricity.¡± She sighed. ¡°But I have some gas, if you¡¯re quick.¡± She served the food and put the cake in the middle of the table. It was nice to see. Really nice. ¡°Almost feels like celebrating, when we¡ª¡± I tried to speak, but she shooed me off with her eyes. ¡°You¡¯ve a long night ahead. Go take a shower.¡± ¡°Shower?¡± We were only taking one a week, and it had been almost three weeks since I¡¯d been clean. ¡°Take your time,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure this is nice and hot when you get out.¡± I was about to protest again, but Tsomak shook his head behind her and nodded to the back, toward our bathroom. I stripped out of my work laden, dirty clothes and turned the shower on. Before stepping in, I made sure it was hot. It was. Once inside, I washed off the grime of the workday, and cleaned myself as best I could with the tiniest sliver of soap we had left. Yes, soap, actual soap. I had no idea where she¡¯d had got this from, but it smelled of lemongrass and ginger. It was amazing. While I dried off, I made use of some of the net time Velas had given me by contacting my friends. ¡°Are you on your way?¡± Bail asked. ¡°Yeah, maybe an hour, everything okay?¡± ¡°Nervous,¡± Bail answered. ¡°Excited, but nervous,¡± Daisy added. I understood that. They were fired up and ready for this race. ¡°I¡¯ve some extra funds. You can place the bets.¡± ¡°Daisy said you were working today, top runner,¡± Bail said. ¡°Yeah,¡± I replied. ¡°Long day, but I¡¯m ready for this. Put me an extra hundred credits to win.¡± It was everything I had left, but it meant if I did win, I¡¯d get a thousand credits and my hundred back. With our joint bet, it would mean I could walk away with five thousand credits. More than enough to stay in our apartment. ¡°That¡¯s too much,¡± Daisy said. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have it if I hadn¡¯t earned it today. I need to turn it into more. Much more.¡±
RACE BET Placed ¨C 100 credits ¨C 10/1 Accept ¨C Y/N
She sighed as I hit the Y, and I hung up on the chat to go eat. 4 - hit the dirt 4-134 - 13th December ¨C 5 p.m. ¨C Market Mom had made the food hot, piping hot. It filled my heart and soul with some hope. But I saw the sadness in her eyes. ¡°We¡¯re not staying,¡± she said. ¡°We have no chance of making any of the rent demands. Even if you win tonight.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve a hundred credits left,¡± I said. ¡°I also earned twenty minutes online of credits, I could sell those.¡± Tsomak shook his head. ¡°We¡¯re not going to do it,¡± he said. ¡°Best just enjoy tonight for what it is. See your friends and win, but keep the credits.¡± He¡¯d already resigned himself to being kicked out. He moved to the living room, head low and feet shuffling over the wooden floors, while Mom and I cleaned up. ¡°Didn¡¯t he get any work today?¡± I asked her. She shook her head. ¡°Without you, we wouldn¡¯t have eaten. We need to move, now rather than later. What I can get for the stuff in here would give us a little hope back there.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll win that race tonight,¡± I said. ¡°You can have it all.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t need to do that,¡± Mom said and put the last of the dishes away. ¡°Keep your money. You might need it.¡± ¡°Mom,¡± I said. ¡°I¡ªI¡¯ll be home later.¡± Mom pulled me into her, and I hugged her tight. ¡°Okay, be sure you¡¯re safe.¡± ¡°I will,¡± I whispered. ¡°Always.¡± I moved to sit in the living room with Tsomak for a few minutes, checking the time. The guys would be meeting up soon. But I needed to see him, to talk to him. ¡°You got a plan at all?¡± I asked him. He glanced at the kitchen, but Mom was still busying herself with things. I had no idea what, but she stayed out of the way. ¡°She thinks we can head back to Roterdon,¡± he said and sighed. ¡°I know. Is that not an option?¡± ¡°Only one set of prospects for me,¡± he said. ¡°I can get work, but not in Roterdon.¡± ¡°Where?¡± ¡°Molsk,¡± he said. I shivered as images filled my head, and not good ones. ¡°You can¡¯t. That would be suicide for me.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t come,¡± he answered honestly. ¡°Suicide would be the easy way out.¡± I didn¡¯t know what to say, what to do. There was literally nothing left but for him to take the worst jobs in the underground factories. ¡°Look, Rusty, you¡¯re nearly eighteen. You know the way the world, our world, works. Your mom and I can live down there for quite some time, save up, do okay. But we can¡¯t stay here. I¡¯m not fit enough.¡± Now I knew why he¡¯d used my nickname earlier. I felt it, but I couldn¡¯t speak, so I just nodded. ¡°When we¡¯ve got some funds, we can resurface.¡± ¡°You really think that?¡± I asked him. ¡°Yes.¡± There was a long pause, then he said, ¡°You need to make your own way, and it ain¡¯t down in Molsk.¡± I stayed silent. Had it really come to this? Maybe . . . I could do okay. I had friends; I had job prospects. Tsomak kept his eyes on me. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± I said. ¡°Promise me you¡¯ll look after my mom.¡± He didn¡¯t answer me, and my stomach churned. I stood and said, ¡°I¡¯ve got a race to win, then hopefully one more good sleep before . . .¡± ¡°I¡¯ll look after her. I promise.¡± Tsomak stood with me, and I made to move. ¡°I said I¡¯d look after her and you the day I moved in, I¡¯v¡ª¡± ¡°You did.¡± I held my hand out to him. ¡°You trained me in everything you know. Thank you.¡± We shook hands, and I felt bad. Like ¡°this was the last time¡± bad. I couldn¡¯t do anything but give my mom another hug and kiss, then make a run for our track. ¡°You¡¯re late,¡± Daisy said. ¡°Had to work late,¡± I replied and gave her a quick hug. ¡°Then had to get dinner from the market with my wages.¡± ¡°Have you eaten enough?¡± Bail asked. ¡°I¡¯ve got some leftovers, if you need?¡± I patted my stomach. ¡°I got fed at the hotel today, too, but thanks. I¡¯ll take it for breakfast if you don¡¯t mind?¡± ¡°Fuck no, you know my sister always makes too much. I¡¯d have enough for days if I didn¡¯t palm it off on you.¡± ¡°She just wants you to grow strong!¡± I laughed. ¡°Fat is more like,¡± Daisy added, and wobbled an imaginary belly at him. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Bail threw a dirty cloth at her, which she anticipated and caught to throw back. I moved to the car. ¡°How¡¯s she looking?¡± I asked. ¡°Regulator¡¯s working like a charm.¡± He grinned. ¡°Performance is up twenty percent.¡± ¡°Twenty percent, that¡¯s amazing.¡± ¡°Come on,¡± Daisy said. ¡°Get those clothes off and get into the leather; it¡¯s much safer.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, then glanced down. I¡¯d hated putting the dirty clothes back on after my shower, but they were all I had worth anything, even if dirty. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± I ripped my clothes off, and Daisy helped me into the race leathers we had stored. ¡°I just went suddenly tired from the work. Don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing.¡± ¡°Car¡¯s all set,¡± Bail reassured me. ¡°The other races, so far, went well. No one¡¯s lucked out, though.¡± ¡°That is good. That means I have a chance to take a few leads tonight and, if possible, win. How¡¯s the circuit looking?¡± I asked and glanced over at the map on the wall. ¡°No slick or debris,¡± Bail said. Our car . . . wasn¡¯t anything special. This was just us, literally throwing everything and anything together to get a running vehicle over the years. As a small team, five of us, we¡¯d put all of our extra credits and our winnings back into it to upgrade. The latest cost, a simple fuel regulator that would make such a difference. Hopefully, it was one that would win me this race. I tapped the roof of the car; it was a box on four wheels with a sort-of engine, and I do mean a sort-of engine. It ran on scraps, and if I wasn¡¯t eating the food Bail had brought, it would run on that, too. My competition, Dimi, didn¡¯t have much more, either. His car had four solid wheels, and he made everyone know it was far superior to our little rust bucket. ¡°You really think that¡¯s got a chance against me today?¡± Dimi asked. His laughing and jeering as I was rolled out of the small garage got my back up. After the day I¡¯d had, the notice my family had been given, and the fact that I would be on my own from now on, I didn¡¯t need to see his gloating ass. I scrunched my fists, breathing in slow and steady. He opened his mouth, and more hurtful words poured out. ¡°Heard you¡¯re getting kicked out. ¡¯Bout time. They need the room for someone who¡¯s worth it.¡± ¡°Fuck off, Dimi,¡± I mouthed at him. ¡°Sore spot, huh?¡± He laughed again. ¡°Should have known. Better just get this over with, then. I need to put you on your ass and take the titles tonight, too.¡± He turned his head. It continued bobbing, and I knew he was still laughing. ¡°Prick,¡± I said to anyone who was listening. No one was. Once he was in his car, he turned to me and nodded. I gave him a nod back and slid into my own car. The feel of the tight bucket seat around me was comforting. ¡°All ready. You good?¡± I heard Daisy ask on the internal comms. ¡°All good.¡± I flexed my hands on the wheel and turned to watch the lights above us. The small track stretched out before me, beckoning me forward with its twists and turns. I knew every inch of it by heart, having raced here countless times before. But tonight was different. We all knew this might be the last race we would get to run before Artem¡¯s City Enforcers, ACE, shut us down. They were getting faster out to our location every time we raced. I could feel the tension in the air as I revved my engine and waited for the lights to change. As I pushed my car into first gear, the gears screeched in protest. ¡°She¡¯s not going to last without a rebuild.¡± My friend Bail¡¯s voice crackled over the car¡¯s comms. ¡°Probably only got this one race left in her.¡± I knew he was right. We had all been expecting this day to come, and I had a lot riding on this race¡ªnot just my own pride, but the money of my fellow racers, as well. I didn¡¯t want my last race to be this shitty view of the streets here. With my twenty minutes time off Velas, I slipped into Aug-World. The streets in front of me changed, and I was fully immersed inside on a perfect racetrack. This, this made Aug-World worth it. I relished the thrill, spectators cheering all around us. I thought of the stakes, and my stomach twisted nervously remembering the slice of cake I had wolfed down before the race. I cursed myself for being so foolish, knowing it would only keep repeating on me and making me feel sick. The lights flickered. Almost . . . almost. The lights changed, and I floored the gas pedal, my gears still protesting as I pushed the car to her limits. The city tunnel came into view. We would pass through a branching tunnel and under one of the supply rivers, then go through a total of four turns before returning right back where we had started. It wasn¡¯t hard. The tunnel came up, and I navigated under it with ease, outpacing my opponents and pulling ahead. But as we exited the tunnel, rain started to fall, pelting the track and making it slippery and treacherous. There didn¡¯t need to be any debris on it; the rain was enough to cause mayhem. I had no choice but to drop a gear and slow down, and that¡¯s when Dimi saw his chance. He pushed forward, trying to pass me on the wet track. ¡°Back off,¡± I shouted into my comms, knowing that if he kept pushing, he would not only ruin my race, but his own as well. In slow motion, I could see what he was doing and the line he was taking. Clocking my own speed, I worked out his final stretch in my head. ¡°Dimi, slow down! You¡¯ll never make it!¡± ¡°Fuck you and your family,¡± he said. ¡°I need that win!¡± ¡°What?¡± Daisy¡¯s voice came over the communicators, saying, ¡°He¡¯s out for blood, Rusty.¡± Bail added, ¡°He got an eviction notice this week. They¡¯re going to be kicked out on Friday, too.¡± This helped me understand Dimi¡¯s aggressive tactics. I shouted out my window, ¡°Slow the fuck down!¡± But he didn¡¯t listen. ¡°You can¡¯t back off,¡± Daisy said. ¡°Rusty, we all need this win more than he does.¡± ¡°I know,¡± I replied, and I pushed the gas down once more, shifting up another gear. As we approached the final turn on our first lap, Dimi pushed forward even harder. Needing to keep up, I found myself unable to slow down as the bend loomed closer and closer. ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± I said. In the blink of an eye, my mind whirled, seeing my own demise from the car slamming straight into the wall. I pumped the brakes, trying to get my speed under control, but it was no use. The wall was rushing towards me, and as I tried to shift down a few gears, the engine didn¡¯t whine, it screamed in protest. My left side glanced off the wall and flipped me up into the air. The next thing I knew, I was careening towards Dimi¡¯s car at full speed. Dimi put his hands up in a vain attempt to save himself, and I saw smoke rolling off his tires as he braked. But there was nothing either of us could do to avoid the collision. The front of my car smashed into his, and we were sent spinning in a circle of death and destruction. My car flipped and skidded along the gravel at breakneck speed. Aug-World vanished and the shit streets around me came back into view. Just when I thought it would never stop, the car struck the wall with a sickening thud, and I was flying through the windshield. Not only my life passed before me then . . . My mom and Tsomak. My funeral? What? ¡°Mom?¡± I was standing next to her. ¡°Rusty, you shouldn¡¯t have; you just shouldn¡¯t have. We didn¡¯t need this, but we need you.¡± Flying. I was flying. I wanted to fly so badly. This was all I ever wanted. The view of my mom and the sounds of her sobbing faded, and reality hit me once more. I wasn¡¯t going to be flying for much longer. I hit the tarmac with a sickening crack. My helmet bounced, and the pain in my neck spread; then my body bounced, and I was no longer flying, but sliding on the tarmac. My leathers could only protect me from so much, and I felt them rip, then searing hot pain ripped through me as first my skin and then my muscle tore with it. My helmet bounced off the curb, the plastic front shattering. When I finally flipped over, the pavement came at my face with nothing to stop it from slamming down; my arm twisted underneath me with a snap. As I lay there, dazed and in pure agony, all I could think was that I should have listened to my gut and stayed away from that damned cake. Bile rose in my throat, and even with the agony I was in, I managed to turn just enough to vomit over the pavement before I passed out. 5 - not okay Light around me brought me around a bit, and I blinked, trying to focus.
RACE ¨C LOST ¨C RACE ¨C LOST ¨C RACE ¨C LOST ¨C RACE ¨C LOST ¨C RACE ¨C LOST ¨C RACE ¨C LOST ¨C RACE ¨C LOST ¨C RACE ¨C LOST ¨C
I stared at our car, smashed to pieces. This was it. It was over. I had to get up. I had to run. ¡°For god¡¯s sake, move!¡± I could hear Bail yelling in my ear. ¡°ACE are already on their way.¡± I couldn¡¯t move, though. My head hurt. My face hurt. Everything hurt. I put my fingers to the back of my neck and pulled them back, sticky with blood. Fuck. I tried to move the arm that was stuck under me at an ugly angle. I couldn¡¯t move it, or me anymore. ¡°Bail,¡± I said, my voice as broken as I was. I could barely talk; it was more a mumble than actual words. ¡°I¡¯m seriously hurt.¡± ¡°Rus, we can¡¯t come for you,¡± he said. ¡°Move.¡± No, no, no. I cursed. ¡°Rus, if you don¡¯t move and they catch you, it¡¯s not just jail time. You¡¯ll be sent to the canning mines. You know it.¡± I sucked in a breath and pushed myself up with the other arm. The canning mines . . . I was a runner, not a miner. The canning mines were underground production facilities where you were worked to the bone. Food production for this city was massive, but it was something that had to be done. The city didn¡¯t care about the people who were working in the facilities, or if they were starving while working. They were death traps. ¡°Never,¡± I said to him. I saw my helmet, several feet before me. I don¡¯t recall what happened, but my face . . . The helmet wasn¡¯t worth anything anymore; it had, however, no doubt saved my life. I spat blood on the ground and walked forward a step. Burning, stabbing agony spread through me with every single step. I kicked the helmet as I passed it, and it shot off skittering and spinning down the street. ¡°We¡¯re out,¡± Daisy groused, her voice so cold, so very cold. ¡°Good luck, Rusty. I hope I¡¯ll see you soon.¡± Out? What did she mean by that? My mind whirled with the consequences . . . we were fucked. No car, no money, no nothing. All of us. We had nothing. I saw my mom again at my funeral. Then in the canning mines herself. No, no way . . . it couldn¡¯t happen. I staggered away from my car as quickly as I could and moved towards Dimi¡¯s. There was nothing left of his car, either, but when I looked in, I couldn¡¯t see him. His belt had been cut. He¡¯d got out already and already run? He¡¯d left me, left me for dead! I would never have done that. If he¡¯d still been in there . . . I would have helped him.
M-Corp - Depository Credit Balance: 0
Sirens blared in the background. I had to make a run for it. I was miles from home, miles from anywhere.
Aug-World Credits = 0 Time Remaining = 3 minutes.
I tried to reach Daisy with my limited dumb-only texts from the free Aug-World. I couldn¡¯t waste the small few Aug-World minutes I had. Neither Bail nor anyone else answered me. There was nothing. They¡¯d cut the comms through, and the only way to contact them after would be the texts. I walked on, trying my best to reach them. Nothing. I made it back to where the race started. Everyone had gone. There were no signs at all that we¡¯d even been there. My bag and clothes were sitting at the side of the road. Our garage doors were wide open, and nothing was left inside at all. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. They¡¯d cleared everything out so fast. So, so fast. How? No one had touched my stuff; it was all there. I grabbed my clothes and slipped on what I could over what was left of my suit. I really had lost weight these last few months. My trousers, shirt, and jacket all fit over the racing suit¡¯s bulk. Then, I slung my bag over my good shoulder and made the slow walk home. I was sure my arm was broken, or dislocated. Something. ¡°That fucking prick,¡± I said. ¡°If he hadn¡¯t . . .¡± There were always so many what ifs, so many things that always could go wrong. But he pushed it at the most stupid place. Why? It didn¡¯t make sense. I needed to get home, or somewhere else safe, to be able to use the system to assess the damage to my body. My HUD could do a self-assessment, I just didn¡¯t want to see them. I couldn¡¯t go home like this. Who was I kidding? My mom would have a fit. I did the only other thing I could; I tapped Tsomak¡¯s HUD ID and waited for him to answer. When he eventually did, his voice was low, sleepy. ¡°Rus, do you know what time it is?¡± ¡°There was a crash,¡± I just about managed to stutter out. ¡°I¡¯m walking home.¡± ¡°Fuck, your mom¡¯s been going nuts. She finally fell asleep. I¡¯ll come. Send me your location.¡± I did, and I waited. I waited, when all I wanted was for my mom to wrap me up and tell me it would be okay. This would not be okay. Ever. By the time Tsomak rounded the corner, it was past 1 a.m. ¡°It¡¯s the only pack I have,¡± he said and held something up. The plain brown wrapped crinkled, then fell apart. He¡¯d hit that for a very long while. ¡°Medikit?¡± I croaked out. ¡°Here,¡± he pulled it open, took out the syringe, and stabbed me in the arm with it. I never flinched, the nites flooding my system. They wouldn¡¯t make a dent in the damage I¡¯d taken. ¡°It has some pain relief in it too, just not sure how much, its old.¡± He stood before me, took my wrist in his hand. It didn¡¯t take him long to assess the damage to my body. ¡°From what I can see, your shoulder is dislocated,¡± he said. ¡°You have skull fractures, a possible concussion. Your arm is broken in two places, shattered wrist. Fuck, Rusty¡ª¡± He froze. I went to talk, but he put a hand up. ¡°Internal.¡± He tapped the side of his head and connected to my HUD. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Your system is flooded with nites, remnants from your father, I presume. A med pack, life pack . . . I¡¯m not sure, but it would have been expensive as hell.¡± From my father? Nites? I was alive because of something my father had given me, had installed into me? ¡°Mom can¡¯t see me like this.¡± I said to him. My voice shook even inside my head. Fear threatened to engulf me. ¡°I can¡¯t come home at all like this.¡± ¡°What are you saying? You can¡¯t just not come home, leave her with nothing, not even a note.¡± ¡°You know she won¡¯t let me go out there like this,¡± I said. ¡°She¡¯d persuade you and I to do something, anything. I¡¯ve got friends. I¡¯ll go stay with them for a couple of days, sort out a plan.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid. You can¡¯t work with broken bones. No one¡¯s going to take you on anymore. Not like that. You can¡¯t pay your way through anything.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll have to,¡± I retorted, anger bubbling to the surface. ¡°I¡¯ll figure it out.¡± Silence stretched between us. ¡°What happened out there?¡± ¡°Dimi¡¯s family¡¯s getting booted, too. He just lost it. I¡¯ve never seen anyone drive so stupidly. Even I wouldn¡¯t have risked what he did.¡± Tsomak had seen me race, against my mother¡¯s wishes, of course. He¡¯d been the one that was supposed to come bring me home afterwards. ¡°This is gonna hurt,¡± he warned and took a step toward me. ¡°I can set the shoulder back. Won¡¯t do anything for the breaks, but you¡¯ll be able to move it, at least.¡± I looked up into his eyes. This man had been with us for near seven years. He¡¯d helped my mom after my dad¡¯s death, and he¡¯d kept me mostly on the straight and narrow. He put a hand on my shoulder and the other under my elbow. ¡°Three, two . . .¡± Then he yanked and shoved before he even got to one. I couldn¡¯t help but wail as pain shot through the rest of my arm to my hand, even if the shoulder did feel better almost instantly. ¡°I wasn¡¯t letting you race just for the hell of it.¡± Tsomak held onto me and whispered, ¡°You¡¯ve got skills, Rusty. Skills that could have, would have, gotten you a better life.¡± He lowered his head, and I struggled to find my voice to ask, ¡°What?¡± ¡°Leave your mother a message saying you¡¯ve got yourself a place to stay, steady job, et cetera,¡± he said, his voice low. ¡°She¡¯ll need to know you¡¯re okay before we leave.¡± ¡°You want me to lie to her? But¡ª¡± Tsomak put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a card, a real old-fashioned card. ¡°This is the comm ID for an old friend. I¡¯d already told him about your skills. He¡¯d asked me to get you to eighteen, but I can¡¯t do that now.¡± ¡°I¡¯m almost eighteen,¡± I said. ¡°Contact him. He¡¯ll help you.¡± ¡°A friend?¡± I asked. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen you with any friends.¡± ¡°Yes, and he owes me.¡± ¡°But my bones?¡± ¡°It will come at a price,¡± Tsomak cautioned. ¡°They won¡¯t take you in unless you sign their contract.¡± A contract. That meant only one thing. I swallowed. ¡°Scripted?¡± ¡°Kind of. You¡¯re way past subscription age.¡± Tsomak tucked the old ID card in my pocket. He put his wrist to mine. ¡°You won¡¯t be able to reach us very often down in Molsk,¡± he said. ¡°This is all I can spare.¡± He gave me two hours of Aug-World time. ¡°Use it wisely if you can¡¯t get real work. It won¡¯t last long.¡± ¡°I¡¯m scared,¡± I admitted. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine,¡± he said and attempted to smile, the crinkles around his eyes and forehead scrunching up. ¡°I was in service on the wall at fourteen. My parents signed me over at ten as soon as they discovered I wasn¡¯t good at anything. Your mom and pops did everything they could to educate you early on. They kept you out of the factories and the mines. This is the best I can do to honor both their wishes.¡± Tsomak hadn¡¯t ever expressed any emotions around me other than frustration, but maybe that was how he dealt with things. His face, his eyes . . . now they were full of emotion. Emotion I¡¯d never seen or expected from him. ¡°Keep in touch,¡± he almost pleaded. ¡°When you can. I¡¯ll let your mom know how you¡¯re doing.¡± ¡°I will,¡± I replied, feeling myself tear up. ¡°I promise. If I can get you word, I will.¡± ¡°I need to go,¡± he said and turned to face away from me. ¡°Before she wakes, and we have to move. If you need anything from the apartment, get it after 8 a.m. We¡¯ll be gone, and they won¡¯t know till nine or ten.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± I said. My body trembled now; all my adrenaline was wearing off. ¡°Will he answer if I call? Or should I call in the morning, later?¡± ¡°He might answer, I¡¯m not sure.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll call.¡± Tsomak went to move, then came in close, put his arms around me, gently, and hugged me. ¡°I¡¯m rooting for you,¡± he said. ¡°Prove everyone wrong, that you¡¯re worth something, something more than they could ever pin on you.¡± I found my words had left me. I couldn¡¯t face him; I couldn¡¯t face him walking away. Watching that would be the hardest thing in my life. When I eventually looked up, Tsomak had gone. 6 -You鈥檙e not squeamish, are you? I fished the comm card out of my pocket. It really was old school, the lettering shiny and bright in the streets low orb lights. On it, I read: Captain R Michaels - WIO and AHS I had no idea what the letters meant. I knew the captain part, obviously. He had some rank in the military, presumably part of M-Corp like Tsomak had been. I thought then to Tsomak¡¯s military career. I¡¯d never really known anything. I¡¯d never even asked. I was an asshole. He¡¯d brought me up, taught me all he could, and I¡¯d never asked him anything about himself. I¡¯d heard Michaels¡¯s name many a time, but when I walked in, Tsomak had clamped up. It drove me wild, and in the end, I just forgot all about asking him, talking to him. I slipped the card back inside my pocket. First, I¡¯d make it to Bail¡¯s. His sister was a nurse at one of the local clinics. She might be able to help or, at the very least, get me some pain relief. Daisy hadn¡¯t meant her word ¡°out,¡± not like it sounded anyway. We needed each other, all of us. Even more so now. I walked for another hour, the thumping in my head growing louder and louder, and my arm hurting more and more. By the time I reached Bail¡¯s block and knocked at his door, I could barely see. My vision was swimming. I needed serious help, and I knew it. It took Bail a long time to answer. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have come,¡± he said, peeking out from the side of the door. ¡°Didn¡¯t get much choice,¡± I replied, showing him my battered and bloody hand. ¡°Fuck,¡± he said. ¡°Bad?¡± ¡°Tsomak fixed my shoulder, but there are breaks and my hand¡¯s fucked. I need someone to watch over me tonight while I try to rest.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± he murmured. ¡°What?¡± I almost couldn¡¯t believe it. ¡°Allie home?¡± ¡°No, she¡¯s working a shift at Macie¡¯s. She¡¯ll be on all night.¡± ¡°Then you can let me in,¡± I said. ¡°No,¡± he said, standing taller at the door. ¡°Look, Rusty, I¡¯m sorry. Dimi called the authorities. They¡¯re already tracking us. Watching me. If I take you in, they¡¯ll clock us all as at the races. I can¡¯t have that. My mom, my sister.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡°But nothing. We lost everything, Rusty. That was every penny both Daisy and I had, gone. Sean and Sal, too. We¡¯ve got nothing left. Any of us.¡± He turned away. ¡°Go, please.¡± ¡°Wait, how about something for the pain?¡± He went to close the door on me, and I put my foot there to stop it. ¡°Please, you can¡¯t leave me like this.¡± He scanned over me, dropped his eyes. ¡°Give me a minute.¡± He left me standing in the doorway. When he returned, he held out his hand. Four pills. ¡°These are seriously enhanced corpo-drugs. Just one at a time, every six hours at least . . . no sooner,¡± he instructed. ¡°These will knock a horse out, got it? They are stronger than strong.¡± I took them, immediately popping one into my mouth and swallowing it. I gagged slightly, but I knew I needed it to work quickly. ¡°Thanks,¡± I mumbled and turned to leave. ¡°Rusty,¡± he called after me, but I didn¡¯t turn back. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t have a choice . . . I don¡¯t.¡± He wasn¡¯t sorry; neither of them were. Not really. If they were sorry, they¡¯d have helped me more. They would have done something, even if it was just to make sure I didn¡¯t pass out and die tonight. Walking grew more and more uncomfortable, and I found myself stopping more and more often to hike my bag up. The pain, though dulled, was spreading everywhere. I needed somewhere to sleep, somewhere that was off the street. I checked my balance. I only had two credits left, and that wouldn¡¯t get me anywhere. I needed to keep my online time. The streets around me changed, not so busy anymore. From beautiful planted walkways to row upon row of plastic advertising stands. Eventually I found a doorway of some old rundown shop. I had no clue where I even was anymore. Broken in agony and lost. Putting my bag down, I managed to tuck into it and rest my head a while. My stomach woke me. This wasn¡¯t just hunger; this was pain, burning and agonizing pain, a lot of it. Something was going on down there. Bleeding? Internally? I tugged my shirt up, managed to get a half baked look; my skin was black, red. It was much more than bruising, bleeding. Fuck, this didn¡¯t look good for me at all. Was I going to die? I didn¡¯t want to die, not yet. I wasn¡¯t ready. I wanted to do things, see things. Many things. I was meant for more than this shitty life. My mind swam. I pulled Captain Michaels¡¯s card out once more and tapped it to my wrist. His ID flagged up. Airman number, of course, but I had the option to send him a message. I didn¡¯t know what the hell to say, to type. Anything is better than nothing, I guess? I started tapping not even knowing how to address him:
Me - Tsomak Koloity gave m¡ª
I tabbed back and added his rank abbreviations, just in case.
Me ¨C WO Tsomak Koloity gave m¡ª
That was as far as I got. I woke up sometime later. The icon still blinked at me, but the partial message had been sent. Fuck. I shivered. The cold was setting in now. ¡°Mom,¡± I called into the darkness. ¡°Mom, I need you.¡± My mom, of course, wasn¡¯t there. No one was. I was alone. ¡°Mom.¡± I sobbed. I tucked my hand into my coat, tried to move, and couldn¡¯t. Let the warmth through to my fingers, then I fished out another pill. I had no clue how long ago I¡¯d taken the first; I didn¡¯t care. If I popped them all, was it enough to OD? My mind drifted to all the things that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. The running, Tae, Velas, my mother¡¯s hope for a better life, all of it just gone. The fact that a broken arm meant I couldn¡¯t work, couldn¡¯t race, meant I had no way of supporting myself. I heard a soft whump-whump in the background, and then there were voices. ¡°Who is it?¡± a woman asked. ¡°He¡¯s just a kid,¡± someone else added. ¡°Chuck him a blanket, some food and move on. We¡¯ve not much left.¡± ¡°He¡¯s in a really bad way. He needs a hospital.¡± Something wrapped around me, but I couldn¡¯t focus on the voices. They were in and out, my eyes blurry. ¡°He needs a hospital,¡± the woman repeated. ¡°He¡¯s as high as a kite,¡± the man added. ¡°Can¡¯t take him anywhere. He¡¯d just be sent to the food mines, that is if he survived the night.¡± The mines, fucking food mines. I wouldn¡¯t last long there at all. Not even a few days. Not much use for anything like this. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it The voices faded, and eventually I woke as the sun started to rise, but I couldn¡¯t move again. Painkiller number three went down without a drink of water. My mouth was so very dry. That¡¯s when I saw the bundle before me and recalled the warm blanket. I tugged it off my shoulder, then wrapped it back around me, burying my face in it. I scarfed the food down a while later when I¡¯d woken up again. The surrounding city was waking now, too. People were milling around, walking to the bus stops, talking about work, the Duan Leeatre. So I wasn¡¯t that far from home. There was no way they¡¯d take me up there today and I wasn¡¯t even going to try. My HUD flashed an incoming message. With no name tag?
Stay where you are.
I mean, what else was I going to do? I tried to trace the message, but I got nothing. There was no origin point. I put my head down once more. Sleep seemed to be the best thing for me. There were voices again; this time they were a much older gruff one and a younger man. I felt another injection going in my arm. What they hell were they giving me? More nites? More drugs? Surely not. I felt sick. Blackness to my vision swirled around me, it was everywhere. A data pad was shoved in front of my face. ¡°Are you Ruslan Korolyov?¡± I looked at the details on the data pad, read them over fast. It was me all right.
Identification: Ruslan Koroylov
Species: Human Bonus: None - Dying
Mod Capacity: 17 *with mods* Mod Capacity in Use: 4
Stat Current Points Description Mods Quality
Dexterity 11 Governs agility and movement. Right Arm Mod: 0 Cost: 0
Mental Power 8 = *10* Governs swiftness and fortitude of the mind. Brain Mod: 2 Cost: 2 (+MP 2) Basic
Perception 12 = *14* Governs an individual¡¯s senses and connection to the world around them. Brain Mod: 2 Cost: 2 (+ PER 2) Basic
Strength 8 Governs physical strength and damage dealt. Left Arm Mod: 0 Cost: 0
Toughness 9 Governs the body and internal fortitude. Basic Organelles: Cost: 0
Additional Information
Primary Education: Basic Higher Education: Advanced Special Training: Top Rope Runner ¨C Level 7 Extras: Last Chance Nanite Life Pack Triggered by Life-Threatening Injuries
Brain Mod Tier: Two
M-Corp¡¯s V - Verity - model is a basic model for cerebral enhancement, providing an expanded storage capacity, capable of housing a Class 5 RI or Class 2 AI, additional processing power to run those facilities, and a full management suite. This model is primarily geared towards construction and high-profile jobs, including Rope Running and vehicles; it provides additional tracking and evaluation enhancements. Warranty: 12 months
Durability: 100/100 Slot Cost: 4
There was more information on me than I¡¯d ever seen. I could click the page, but the man before me pulled it away. ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m Ruslan.¡± Ruslan really was my name, even if my friends mostly called me Rus or, because I¡¯d stood on a rusty nail one day and ended up in hospital, Rusty. I caught a glimpse of the man¡¯s face, with its graying salt-and-pepper hair and five o¡¯clock shadow. His deep, dark brown eyes were framed by a scar on the left side of his chin. He was wearing a crisp blue uniform with golden epaulettes, and when our gazes met, I could see nothing but concern in his eyes. ¡°I need you to sign this,¡± he ordered, and he pushed the data pad in front of me again with a different screen on it. I tried to focus on it, but I couldn¡¯t. I shoved it away. ¡°I can¡¯t, not a lefty.¡± I threw a glance at my right arm, which was still hanging limply at my side. ¡°Any scrawl will do, just to say I can give you basic medical help.¡± ¡°You want to help? Are you¡ª¡± ¡°Not Captain Michaels,¡± he said and puffed out his chest somewhat. ¡°I¡¯m Lieutenant General Michaels now. You sent me part of a message to my private comms last night. I couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of it at all, till I managed to track you down.¡± Fuck, he had really moved up the chain. ¡°Painkillers,¡± I struggled to say. ¡°I feel sick.¡± ¡°I understand,¡± he replied. ¡°Please sign something, anything.¡± I lifted my hand up, managed to scrawl something with it, and he handed it back to the young man with him. ¡°There are no strings to this,¡± he said and nodded to the young black man to his left. ¡°First Lieutenant Bryd here will take you to Macie¡¯s and get you looked over properly. If there¡¯s internal injuries or broken bones, which it looks like to me there is, they¡¯ll fix them.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve no money. Nothing.¡± ¡°I know, they¡¯ll get you set right. I need you to be completely of sound mind when I talk to you next. Understand?¡± I nodded at him, then watched as he pushed himself up, stood and straightened his uniform, spoke to the young man with him, then walked away. There was a helicopter at the end of the street? Couldn¡¯t be, could there? I was seeing things. But the wind plume that it kicked up and the freezing cold blast that came with it as it took off told me I wasn¡¯t seeing things. ¡°Car¡¯s incoming,¡± First Lieutenant Bryd said. I couldn¡¯t place his accent; I¡¯d never heard it before, and it was a struggle to understand. ¡°I¡¯ll get you to Macie¡¯s and wait with you for the results.¡± It was just as much of a struggle to get me up off the floor, even with First Lieutenant Bryd¡¯s help. He wore a very different uniform than LG Michaels. It felt slippery to my skin. An all-in-one leather padded suit, it showed only his face and neck, above which his tight afro was cut close to his scalp. I swallowed my last pill. I didn¡¯t care. I needed it. The hospital was busy; it always was. Macie¡¯s was mostly volunteer work, family of sick people, or those who needed a hot meal. But they paid their night staff and doctors well. Hence, Bail¡¯s sister, Allie, would have been there. I didn¡¯t think she¡¯d still be there now, though. But as soon as the staff saw the FL¡¯s uniform and me, they rushed straight over. It was Allie that scanned my ID and then his clearance to pay. ¡°We¡¯ll get him checked out, don¡¯t you worry.¡± ¡°Reports come straight to me,¡± Byrd said. Allie shot me a look. ¡°That¡¯s quite unusual . . . First Lieutenant Bryd.¡± He straightened himself up and smiled. Damn, that was such a nice smile, too. ¡°First Lieutenant Jarmal Bryd.¡± Allie wasn¡¯t taken in by it. I saw her roll her eyes. ¡°You think telling me your given nam¡ª¡± ¡°I know, Allie¡ªit¡¯s okay,¡± I said. ¡°They have my permission. They¡¯re paying.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± she acknowledged. ¡°Come on in, both of you.¡± Carefully, Allie led me out the main corridors into a side room, sitting me on a bed. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen you look so high,¡± she said. ¡°Bail told me what happened and that he took my pills to give you.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said. Allie started to undress me, but I cried out. It was just too much, all of this. I wanted to ask her to call my mom, but I couldn¡¯t. I had to do this on my own. I was on my own. They needed to keep going to their new life. I¡¯d hold them back in more ways than one and I didn¡¯t need my mom selling her liver or something to pay this medical bill. In the end, Allie got her scissors. ¡°Not like it¡¯s worth anything,¡± she said and proceeded to cut my leathers off. This was the first time I¡¯d seen the rest of my flesh, my bruises. Fuck. I was black and blue from my shoulder down to my wrist, which hung oddly, the bones obviously very broken. But the color. Black. Blue. I glistened in multicolor. ¡°No wonder my pills aren¡¯t lasting,¡± Allie remarked. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything so bad, Rus, I¡¯m so sorry.¡± ¡°Not your fault,¡± I still mumbled. ¡°Not at all.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t talk too much,¡± she said. ¡°It looks like you¡¯ve fractures to your face, maybe the helmet . . . your jaw.¡± I knew I had a helmet on, but I couldn¡¯t recall what happened to it exactly, only that I¡¯d kicked it. Allie helped get the rest of the suit off; it pulled at the back of my head. ¡°We¡¯ll need to do a full MRI,¡± she stated. ¡°They¡¯ve asked for it, anyway.¡± When it came to taking the suit the whole way off, I cringed. I¡¯d put old underwear on, and they weren¡¯t exactly the cleanest. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll get you some clothes out of the lost and found,¡± she said. Her eyes were kind and her voice soft. ¡°Thanks. I¡¯m glad it was you here.¡± ¡°Bail¡¯s really upset,¡± she said. ¡°Please don¡¯t think badly of him.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± I promised her, but I did, at least for now. ¡°You think you can stand?¡± I stood as best as I could and stepped out of what was left of my suit. She helped me out of the room and into a corridor and down towards another room with a specialist and a rather large machine. ¡°Just stand in the center of that spot.¡± She pointed to it, and I obliged. The whole room vibrated, and my legs wobbled, but I stood as still as I could. A few moments later, she returned with a wheelchair. ¡°I¡¯m not getting in that,¡± I groaned. ¡°You will.¡± She pointed at it. ¡°You did good. Come on, I¡¯ll take you back.¡± I got in the seat and let her wheel me off. She made a slight detour at one point, running off for a moment before returning with a bag of clothes and putting them on my knee. ¡°These should fit.¡± When she got me to the bed, I got up and sat down on it; she pulled a blanket up over my legs and then tied a tourniquet around my good arm. ¡°Blood,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re not squeamish, are you?¡± I shook my head, and she took several vials of blood. ¡°They¡¯re going to see the drugs, though, right?¡± I asked. ¡°Yes, I can¡¯t hide that from them. There¡¯s nothing else I should know about?¡± ¡°No.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Nothing.¡± ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll get these off to the lab and be back in a minute. Rest your head. I¡¯ll take you for a shower, then clean you up some more.¡± She cleaned up, and then off she whirled. With my head on the pillow and a blanket keeping me warm, I was soon gone again as the darkness, pure darkness, swallowed me. 7 - Every Disadvantage in the books 7-134- 14th December - 11 p.m. - Race Over A needle slipped into my arm, and I woke to see Allie¡¯s soft eyes staring up at me. ¡°Just something different for the pain,¡± she whispered. I nodded at her, keeping my head on the pillow. ¡°How am I looking?¡± I asked. ¡°Not good,¡± she said. Her petite face frowned and her eyes watered. ¡°Come on, I¡¯ve got some warm water in a bath with your name on it.¡± ¡°A bath? You said shower.¡± ¡°This will be better.¡± She coaxed me forward. ¡°Come on.¡± I slid off the bed with her help; the new meds were working great. She then took me into a room where there was a walk-in tub. I stepped in, and she closed the door. ¡°It will start filling any moment now,¡± she said with a smile. Damn, she was cute. I found myself staring. Not that I¡¯d ever not stared at her but here, now, she was like an angel. The tub did start to fill. The hot water, which had salts and other good-smelling stuff in it, filled up from the bottom. Quite quickly, I might add. But, oh boy, it really felt good. ¡°What¡¯s in here?¡± I asked. ¡°There¡¯s a lot in it. Just know it¡¯s all helping.¡± ¡°I feel better.¡± I was also talking better. ¡°But that is just the meds, right?¡± ¡°Yes, it is. You¡¯ve had some nanite gel over your face, and I gave you a shot of morphadol and some crisis-management assistant with anti-sickness added in for good measure. Some other drugs, well, I don¡¯t know what they were, they were from First Lieutenant Bryd.¡± ¡°That bad?¡± I asked again, really wanting to know and for her to say something nice, to assure me it was okay. I would be okay. ¡°Let the bath work,¡± she said. She didn¡¯t need to say it was bad; her silence confirmed it. I let the bath fill up while she played with the buttons a bit, and then she soaped up her hands and stepped towards me. ¡°What are you doing?¡± I asked, my stomach somersaulting. ¡°Just going to wash your hair. I¡¯ll be careful,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s my job, Rusty.¡± I¡¯d never had anyone else touch me, not for a long time. Of course, my mom was the last person to wash my hair, too. It was odd. But damn, she was gentle, just like she¡¯d said, and this got blood pumping to all the places I wasn¡¯t thinking about. I tried to push how close she was to me to the back of my mind, but I couldn¡¯t help it. I had always liked her. She worked out the blood at the back of my scalp, and though it stung a little, it didn¡¯t start to bleed again. That was good. ¡°You really did give yourself a knock,¡± she said. ¡°I wish you¡¯d come in last night.¡± ¡°I couldn¡¯t have paid.¡± ¡°I know, but I¡¯d have figured something out. You¡¯re one of my brother¡¯s best friends.¡± ¡°Not anymore,¡± I said. Anger surfaced, though I tried not to let it show. ¡°He¡¯s really sorry,¡± she said and let out a small sigh. ¡°The authorities really are looking for you.¡± ¡°They¡¯ll find me here, then.¡± ¡°No, not with the surrounding security. No one knows you¡¯re here. You¡¯re a figment of their imagination.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± I said. ¡°I guess that¡¯s good.¡± Allie shook her head, her eyes wide. ¡°I¡¯m not so sure about that, Rusty. What are you wrapped up in here? I¡¯ve never seen clearance like what Bryd has.¡± ¡°But you can¡¯t talk to anyone else either, I bet?¡± She shook her head. ¡°No, no one.¡± ¡°My results? What are they looking for?¡± ¡°Those drugs they gave me to give you, drugs I¡¯ve never heard of, were working in seconds to help heal you. I¡ª¡± She paused for a moment, and I looked back at her. ¡°They saved your life; you¡¯d be dead without them. Your bone breaks were significant; there¡¯s serious damage to your face. Mostly, they wanted to see if there were any signs of permanent head trauma, or if it would surface again at any point in the future. They asked for your compatibility with tech, and more importantly, nite tech and military-grade metals.¡± ¡°I understand,¡± I said, my head nodding along with her words. My injuries. My face alone . . . I, well, they wanted to know if I¡¯d be an asset or a drain. ¡°Please be careful with them,¡± she said and moved to rinse my hair. ¡°They mean business.¡± ¡°I know,¡± I replied, and on the inside, I really did. ¡°Did you send the whole report over to them?¡± ¡°Yes, though kinda reluctantly.¡± ¡°Thanks, Allie. And for the care.¡± ¡°You¡¯re like a kid brother.¡± She laughed. My heart took a double beat. I¡¯d always had a crush on her and Bail knew it. He was always teasing me because she was ten years older than us. But ten years was nothing. She had no boyfriend. I had a chance, right? Now, I could see she wasn¡¯t interested. She was doing her job and trying to look out for me, and that made my heart ache all the more. I wanted to go home. I wanted my mom. Heck, I even wanted the harsh words and growls of Tsomak. I missed both of them. It had been hard the last year, really for most of my life. But it was home. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Allie moved, bringing me out of my deeper, darker thoughts. ¡°Soak as long as you need, then hit the empty and wash off. Think you can dry yourself off and get dressed?¡± I shook my head at her. ¡°I mean, I can try, but . . .¡± ¡°I¡¯ll go order you some food, then get you back into bed.¡± A voice came through from outside. ¡°I can do that, Miss.¡± When we both looked, there was First Lieutenant Bryd. Allie turned to me and stated, ¡°I¡¯ll come see you in a bit.¡± When she left, First Lieutenant Bryd moved to the front of the tub. ¡°Lieutenant general¡¯s on his way back,¡± he said, giving me a once over, his frown betraying his thoughts. ¡°How are you feeling?¡± ¡°How do I look?¡± I asked. ¡°Honestly?¡± He sighed. ¡°Like an extremely battered waif or stray.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I guess I am.¡± The bath¡¯s plug made a sucking sound as I hit for it to empty, then with one hand, did as Allie had said with the soap and nozzle I found. It was nice to be and to smell this clean. I stood then, with no real worries about the man before me who never even looked away. ¡°You really are black . . . no blue,¡± he said, his eyes trailing my frame. ¡°You could do with some good food to help you bulk out, too.¡± ¡°Thanks for the physical assessment,¡± I said. I glanced down, knowing what he said was the truth. ¡°Going to be multicolored in a few days, no doubt.¡± ¡°With our meds, it shouldn¡¯t last long.¡± He ran a hand over his cropped hair. ¡°You just cost us a small fortune; I hope you¡¯re worth it.¡± ¡°What?¡± I cringed at his us; did he mean M-Corp, or them personally? ¡°How much?¡± ¡°Two hundred thousand credits,¡± came his answer. ¡°What?¡± Holy fuck . . . I hadn¡¯t even signed anything important yet. He handed me a towel, and I stepped out of the tub and onto the mat with his help. It wasn¡¯t as nice with him in the room, or doing this, but at least my excitement had died off earlier. That would have been embarrassing. He helped me dress, and the clothes fit much better than my own. They were meant for someone much younger than I was, though. I kept telling myself I¡¯d grow into them, into all of them. At the moment, I seemed destined to stay skinny. First Lieutenant Bryd gently got my arm into a sling and then rested it under a shirt. Tucking the arm of it around me, he fastened only the bottom few buttons. ¡°Okay?¡± I nodded, and we moved to the main room again. ¡°Car¡¯s here. I¡¯ll be back in a moment.¡± When he did come back, I found myself drifting again, leaning back on the bed. I felt someone sit, and when I looked up, it was into the eyes of the captain once more. ¡°Son?¡± he asked, his voice low, commanding. I tried to sit up straighter, but he held his hand up. ¡°At ease. You¡¯re not in the military yet.¡± ¡°Yet?¡± I asked. ¡°Yet,¡± he said with a curt nod to First Lieutenant Bryd. ¡°I am here to ask you to join us.¡± ¡°Join you? I passed your tests?¡± I asked. The butterflies in my stomach were growing. There were some choices coming my way, choices that would affect my life forever. ¡°Medically, you¡¯re sound, barring recent injuries, so yes.¡± Though, he did glance over my form. ¡°Physically, you just cost a fair bit, and you could do with some more work.¡± I let out a little chuckle at that. ¡°You said I needed to be fully with it to talk to you about this. Why?¡± Lieutenant General Michaels looked to his First Lieutenant Bryd, who dipped his head, then stepped out the door. ¡°Yes,¡± he said and held out a data pad. ¡°I need you to look this over. You are then free to ask me any questions while I¡¯m here, but once you sign it . . .¡± ¡°I¡¯m yours?¡± I asked, ¡°And there¡¯s no going back?¡± ¡°I¡¯m here at the request of an old friend. And pulling more than a few strings for him right now.¡± ¡°Tsomak liked me,¡± I whispered, trying to convince myself this was a good thing. That he wouldn¡¯t have just sent me off to ruin my life or my mother¡¯s if she found out. I took the data pad and read.
Special Recruitment Request Immediate placement for Ruslan Korolyov into the SAR 707 Intense Training Program at M-Corp¡¯s Ground School for advancement into Ocean Oil Fields Full Helicopter Pilot Scheme, with installed M-Corp X tech to be fitted as soon as possible at Rise Hospital. Cost = Undisclosed
I had no idea what SAR 707 stood for, or X tech. Any tech would add more costs to my debt. And I was sure it was a debt I would have to pay back. ¡°I have one question,¡± he said. ¡°Why do you want to fly?¡± I didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°I¡¯ve never wanted anything else, from the moment I first saw a helo cross the skies heading to the wall. I wanted that, to be up there, and to help the city any way I could.¡± ¡°That¡¯s all I needed to hear,¡± he said. ¡°Is it going to be hard?¡± I asked him. ¡°You¡¯ll be pushed beyond every single limit you think you have and then even further.¡± ¡°Will you heal all my injuries?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve done what we can here. You¡¯ll be given a full medical workout at Rise. It¡¯s M-Corp¡¯s most prestigious hospital. That includes healing and fixing any damage, broken bones, old or new. You¡¯ll also be retrofitted with the new X HUD system and balancing nite system.¡± ¡°I¡¯d imagine that¡¯s quite the cost.¡± ¡°Yes, it is. On average, every trainee coming in has already had over a million put into them.¡± ¡°A million credits?¡± ¡°Yes, they come from the top training facilities around Artem.¡± ¡°You¡¯re talking about kids taken at the age of ten, right? I¡¯m six years out of training, aren¡¯t I?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± he replied. ¡°Will you expect me to catch up?¡± He just nodded this time. ¡°What¡¯s the SAR 707?¡± ¡°Turn the page,¡± he said. I did, and my whole body shivered. There, in full 3D was a helicopter, but not just a helicopter. This was . . . I tapped the screen, and a 3D image appeared before me. Its details flashed up with it.
SAR 707 - Statistics General Crew: 4 (two pilots, two special mission aviators/aerial gunners) Capacity: maximum crew six / eight¨Ctwelve troops / litters and/or other cargo Length: 64 ft 10 in (19.76 m) Height: 16 ft 8 in (5.08 m) Empty weight: 16,000 lb (7,257 kg) Max takeoff weight: 22,000 lb (9,979 kg) Powerplant: 2 ¡Á General Electric - E17-SQ 700 Turboshaft Engines, 1,940 shp (1,450 kW) each Main rotor diameter: 52 ft 8 in (16.05 m) Performance Maximum speed: 193 kn (222 mph, 357 km/h) Cruise speed: 159 kn (183 mph, 294 km/h) Range: 324 nmi (373 mi, 600 km) Ferry range: 441 nmi (507 mi, 817 km) Service ceiling: 14,000 ft (4,300 m)
¡°Sir,¡± I said and my hand shook. I steadied it by putting the data pad on the bed. ¡°You think I¡¯m capable of flying this?¡± ¡°You tell me,¡± he said. ¡°Are you?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I said, needing no conviction there. He straightened himself up some more. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Yes, sir. I am.¡± ¡°So, ask away, I¡¯ve time now. But after today I¡¯m out of bounds, and you¡¯ll defer to your superiors. Understand?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I said. Then I proceeded to ask Lieutenant General Michaels many, many more questions about how far behind I was. How much work I was going to have to do to catch up to the teams he wanted to place me with. After an hour, silence drifted between us. He shifted in his chair and let out a groan to stand and stretch. I heard his back pop and I flinched. ¡°I¡¯m not getting any younger,¡± he said. ¡°No tech?¡± ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°This is all me, ageing bones and all.¡± When he sat back down, he perched on the edge of the seat. ¡°I¡¯m not going to lie to you. This is a lot to take in. Not only are you heading in unprepared, no time at all with military training, you¡¯re severely injured.¡± ¡°Every disadvantage in the books, right?¡± ¡°And then some.¡± I thought about the view up on top of the Duan Leeatre, and how many online credits I¡¯d burned looking over the tech I might need to even think about flying. Here I was now with the opportunity of a lifetime. My heart pounded, and I fumbled with so many other questions, I couldn¡¯t get anything coherent out of my mouth. ¡°Slow down,¡± he said. Then his eyes misted as he ordered something in his HUD. Moments later, we had food and drinks, and he settled in across from me much more comfortably, his jacket off, his shirt sleeves rolled up. 8 - Signing the line 8-134- 14th December ¨C 9 a.m. - TECH CHECK ¡°Treat me like the idiot I am,¡± I said. ¡°What does it take to become a helo pilot?¡± ¡°Fitness, coordination, intelligence.¡± He chewed part of a sandwich, while I just stared. ¡°You¡¯ve been racing quite a while?¡± ¡°I have, yes. Though, it was nothing legal.¡± He shrugged that off. ¡°According to your wins, you process information at speed fast. You have great eye and hand coordination.¡± He paused, and I saw something else in his eyes. ¡°You were taught a lot by your biological father, with trips out to the forests and farms. When he passed away, you had your keystone mod installed, then you were taught by your stepfather, who also took you to a local gun range. When your mother pulled you out of school, she home-schooled you with some of the hardest texts I¡¯ve seen for a teen. Everything was trained into you from the get go.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not military.¡± ¡°Military trained, no, but military schooled, by your father, and step-father, yes,¡± he said with a smile. ¡°Military trained learn how to work together, how to follow orders, how to work within the chain of command. You . . . well, according to your paperwork, you know what to do, just not when to do it. You look like a troublemaker.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to be,¡± I said. ¡°Tell me about the process. What happens when I leave here, healed?¡± ¡°Training-wise, you will need to jump right in, so you will be going to Ground School. It¡¯s usually a short two-month course. The current students are not far from starting, and by the time you¡¯ve healed after Rise, there will be only a week remaining.¡± ¡°The next class?¡± ¡°We have no time for the next class; you need to pass out with this one.¡± I swallowed. ¡°How long will I have to catch up?¡± ¡°Possibly just a week.¡± He frowned. ¡°Give or take a day or two, at most.¡± ¡°To learn how much?¡± ¡°A lot. Once you have the tech in, I¡¯ll make sure you get their current schedule.¡± ¡°Which is?¡± ¡°All of the basic helo operations manuals, safety procedures, flying procedures, and first flights.¡± ¡°Simulations?¡± ¡°Yes, of course, Aug-World is the best training facility everyone has. Then you¡¯ll pass a real flight and off to OFF.¡± ¡°Cost for the school?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll take care of all of it,¡± he said. ¡°A lot, though? All of it? How much?¡± I asked. ¡°I need to know.¡± ¡°Some things you can¡¯t put a price on, Rusty.¡± His face, though stoic, flushed slightly. ¡°How much, if most have a million credits spent on them before they get to you?¡± ¡°Anything from adding five to ten million in tech. Schooling is anything up to another five million.¡± No fucking way. The thought of that cost blew my mind. I had . . . I could never . . . I would never pay that back. I was signing my life over to them. Possibly forever. What about my parents? My friends? I¡¯d never see them again, any of them? All my thoughts blended into one. Into just pure panic. I knew how much they¡¯d already spent on me; I felt it. ¡°What do I get out of it?¡± ¡°Bar surviving and the career you always wanted?¡± ¡°Tsomak?¡± He nodded, ¡°Page 71.¡± I flicked the page across. I¡¯d have permanent access to Aug-World, never have to worry about credits there if I needed it, 10,000 minutes a month, and 100 credits a day. I raised an eyebrow at him. ¡°The pay sucks.¡± ¡°You¡¯re lucky you¡¯re getting anything.¡± His tone was stern, but there was a hint of a smile in the corner of his eyes. ¡°We matched your working hours as a runner.¡± I hesitated, continued to read on, small print, it was very small. If I died in action¡­ well no one got anything. ¡°What really happens at OFF?¡± ¡°You will be expected to work your ass off for this. It is not an easy ride. You¡¯ve picked one of the hardest careers going.¡± ¡°Tech?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll get what we can give you, mixed tiers what it takes min to get you in the air. It is then up to you to work harder prove your worth and upgrade certain things.¡± ¡°Makes sense,¡± I thought to the prices of the most basic tech, at 100 credits a day I would be here for ever. ¡°Military life is a lot of waiting around.¡± He carried on. ¡°We do, however, work closely with our civilian partners. We do train some pure civilian helo pilots, but that is very rare; most of our pilots are taken from our military ranks. Makes things a lot easier. We add in their training to their military training. You won¡¯t be doing half of that. You¡¯re on the civilian side. So mostly you will be expected to learn fast and you¡¯ll have lots of flight time. Our military pilots do part time, 3 to 5 hours a week, and it can take them 6-8 months to pass out on basic helos, then a month or so for the different specs. You, you¡¯ll be at 15-20 hours flying, and we¡¯re hoping you can pass out as soon as possible.¡± ¡°Kind of makes sense.¡± Silence spread over us as my mind ticked though my options, or rather, no options. ¡°I would be dead without you,¡± I admitted. Michaels flicked through his data pad once more to the next relevant page. ¡°Yes, yes, you would be.¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad I¡¯m not dead,¡± I said, and my resolve strengthened. My father, and yes, even Tsomak had all my best interests at heart. They wanted the best for me, both of them. ¡°I will make you proud,¡± I whispered to them. ¡°I will.¡± Michaels¡¯s eyes never left mine, then said, ¡°You¡¯ve still got an enthusiasm I would not have expected with your pain levels.¡± ¡°What does that tell you?¡± I asked. ¡°You are going to be trouble with a capital T.¡± I swallowed my laugh. ¡°But you¡¯re still offering me a place?¡± He put the pad in front of me. ¡°Sign there.¡± I looked at it. This was it. I had two choices: sign or don¡¯t sign. Either way, my life would never be the same. Never. ¡°If I sign now, I¡¯m going to be whisked away? Taken and put through the most intensive training years of my life?¡± He didn¡¯t answer me. I moved the pad so I could scribble my signature on it with my left hand as best I could. ¡°I¡¯m in.¡± He took the pad from me and held his hand out for me, until he realized I couldn¡¯t shake it and swapped to his other so I could. ¡°I look forward to following your advancements,¡± he said. ¡°Do your family proud.¡± ¡°I will,¡± I replied, then risked. ¡°Can I even talk to them, contact them?¡± ¡°We can¡¯t stop you from talking to them. You will need to keep certain things to yourself, though.¡± ¡°Most of it.¡± ¡°Yes, almost all of it. If you talk to them, keep it simple. You¡¯re okay, you¡¯re doing okay, then ask about them.¡± I shook his hand. He turned, picked up his jacket, slipped it on, and then dipped his head just before he left. ¡°First Lieutenant Bryd will make sure you¡¯re on your way soon enough. I will see you again, Airman Korolyov.¡± Then he was truly gone. I wondered for a moment if I really would see him again. ¡°Let¡¯s get you moving, airman,¡± First Lieutenant Bryd said firmly. ¡°Where to first?¡± ¡°Rise, the best M-Corp military hospital there is,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s a fair trek, even in a fast car, so I¡¯ll grab some extra pain relief for you and some drinks for the both of us on the way out.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± I said. ¡°Welcome.¡± He moved off while I made myself ready to leave. I doubted I¡¯d ever see any of the people from around here ever again. Bail, Allie, Daisy. Anyone else I knew, even those on the tracks or the job site like Vellas and Tae. My neighbors. Everything was changing today, and I¡¯d agreed to it. Allie ran in, her face flushed. ¡°You¡¯re going with them?¡± she asked. ¡°Yes, I am,¡± I said. ¡°Please tell your brother I hold no ill will, and I hope he and Daisy can recoup their losses. When I can, I¡¯ll send them both something in thanks, and I will miss them.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what else to say,¡± she said and waved her hand over my broken body. ¡°They¡¯re going to look after all of that?¡± ¡°Yes. Don¡¯t be worrying about me. I will be fine.¡± She hugged me gently and when First Lieutenant Bryd came back for me, I followed him out of the room, through the corridors, and then out of the hospital without looking back. It was heading toward nighttime once again, and a car idled at the end of the small parking lot. I didn¡¯t look back at all as we got in it. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. I knew I would never see my mom¡¯s apartment again. Anything I had there was gone, anyway; I had no doubt they¡¯d gone in and stripped it already. There wasn¡¯t even a point in asking to go there to see it. It was better for me to leave and leave now. A full fresh clean start. I let the hospital and my side of town drift away. I thought about my future. The future where I would be flying that SAR 707. First Lieutenant Bryd didn¡¯t speak much. I guess he was just looking after me, not educating me more. My brain had been pretty overwhelmed, too. I sat back, letting my head fall against the headrest, and only when he offered me some more pills did I ask, ¡°Do you like what you do?¡± ¡°I follow the lieutenant general around.¡± He smiled at me. ¡°I get to meet some of the most talented youngsters in our city, and then I get to watch them grow. I couldn¡¯t ask for a better job.¡± That¡¯s what I needed to hear. ¡°Will I see you again after today?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll drop in now and then, looking for intel for the lieutenant general,¡± he said. ¡°He¡¯s not hands on, but I am. I get to come in and watch certain events, then report in properly without the brushing over of details. That sometimes happens.¡± That made a lot of sense, especially if some were fudging numbers. I mean, how many cheats had I come across in my years on the streets? Lots. ¡°I¡¯d like that. To see you again.¡± He smiled, genuinely. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you my personal HUD ID. You can, in extreme emergencies, request my or the lieutenant general¡¯s attention, but I will stress that it has to be life or death. Do not abuse it.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± I said. ¡°I like to stand on my own two feet. I don¡¯t want sympathy.¡± ¡°Yes, I can see that. So did the lieutenant general. He wasn¡¯t one hundred percent sure with your medical notes.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± I hadn¡¯t seen them; I had no idea what was going on with me at the moment. Pain, sure. That was obvious. ¡°Should I look?¡± ¡°You should, yes. You need to know how much you can and have pushed yourself.¡± He handed me a data pad, which I took, then began reading my injury report. I¡¯d dislocated and relocated my shoulder, and there was tendon damage and muscle damage as a result. I had one clean break to my upper arm and three breaks to my lower. There were many fractures noted in my wrist and fingers. I knew that was the worst of the damage. It would take a lot of work to fix everything, and likely a lot of money. My internal injuries were where things got complicated fast. I had severe damage to multiple organs. My whole gut was bloodied and bruised. ¡°Technically, you shouldn¡¯t be alive.¡± ¡°How am I?¡± I asked. ¡°That¡¯s going to be for our medical staff to work out,¡± he said. ¡°Honestly, it¡¯s because you¡¯re still alive when you should be dead that I managed to persuade him to let you in.¡± ¡°The pain is horrendous.¡± ¡°I bet. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen anyone walking around with just half of your injuries. Even accounting for the survival pack you had installed.¡± ¡°You think I have something special?¡± ¡°Yes, I do.¡± First Lieutenant Bryd nodded. ¡°Add to that your reflexes, intelligence, and last aptitude tests. You are someone to watch.¡± I put the data pad down, and he took it back. ¡°Your blood results are weird, too,¡± he admitted. ¡°Elevated nite levels, but none of them have ever been activated. I think our docs will get those sorted for you first, then add in their tech and a few other things. You¡¯ll be in full fighting form before anyone else can even blink.¡± ¡°How long do you think all of this, this next stage, will take?¡± I asked. ¡°The operations will be first. You¡¯ll spend twenty-four hours in surgery.¡± Twenty-four hours, what the fuck were they putting in me? ¡°What tech?¡± I asked. I thought I saw a smile then, and Bryd picked the data pad up and put something else on the screen then passed it to me again. I looked.
Brain Mod ¨C X1 Tier: Three
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And for my hand which had been totally shattered:
Right Hand Mod ¨C X24 Tier: Two
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I read it, re-read it, then gave it him back. ¡°I presume I get some kind of RI or AI as well then?¡± I asked him. He shrugged. ¡°More than likely with the X1, yes. They¡¯ve not stipulated to what yet. Maybe they¡¯ll decide that later.¡± I could only nod; this tech was already a lot for me to take in. ¡°What happens then?¡± ¡°As Lieutenant General Michaels said. You¡¯re going to have a few weeks of rehab.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a lot of time, but I¡¯ll read and learn as much as I can, when I can.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll be out of the med unit, through Ground School and ready for MCFFPMA sooner than you know it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the name for the flight school?¡± ¡°In full, its title is M-Corps First Flight Preparation and Military Academy.¡± That sounded so much better than school. So much better. ¡°Nearly a month,¡± I whispered. I would do everything in my power to get up and moving and make sure I was at that academy gate as soon as possible. First Lieutenant Bryd returned to looking over the data pad. Whether he was reading about me or something else, I wasn¡¯t sure, but I put my head back and let the gentle rocking of the car send me back to sleep. 134 - 14th December - 10 a.m. - Signing Life Away I was dreaming of flying. Dreaming of being over Artem city, higher than the highest tower block. This is what I wanted, it felt perfect, all of it. ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± First Lieutenant Bryd said as he shook me awake. Had it been just moments? It sure seemed like it. When I tried to move this time, pain ripped through me. I found I couldn¡¯t do anything; I had nothing left in me to give. ¡°I¡ªI can¡¯t move,¡± I stammered out. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± another gruff voice grunted out. ¡°I¡¯ve got you.¡± The door at my side opened, and large arms picked me up. This man was massive, literally four times my size. ¡°Everything hurts,¡± I whined to him, finding tears streaming from my eyes. ¡°It really hurts.¡± ¡°I know, kid,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ve got you. Just hold on. I won¡¯t let you go.¡± He may have been the size of a house, but everything about him, his voice, his smile, his eyes, was gentle. I wanted to rest my head on his shoulder, so I did. His arms wrapped me up, and then he walked. Not heavy chomping steps, but soft ones. I never felt any of it; it was as if we glided. ¡°Comm the doc,¡± I heard his voice rumble through his chest. ¡°He needs surgery, now.¡± Someone opened a door, and the next thing I knew we were in a building and were going up a lift with glass windows. I could see out into the world beyond. It was breathtaking. Was I dying? Was this it? I was being lifted up into heaven, wasn¡¯t I? ¡°Still with me?¡± the man asked me. His breath-mint scent tickled my face. ¡°I¡¯m here.¡± ¡°Good. I¡¯ll get you settled, and the doc will come see you in a moment. They want to make sure you know what you¡¯re going through before they put you under.¡± ¡°I understood everything when I signed the contract.¡± ¡°Good,¡± he said. ¡°Very good.¡± The elevator doors opened, and my lovely view of the vast oceans beyond went with them. I wanted to be out there now, in the helo, floating above the water and seeing everything the lands around us had to offer. Of course, we¡¯d all seen it from the TV reporters, but it was more stunning in person. I smiled when the huge man put me on a bed. The bright white and crisp silver of the room glinted everywhere around me. So clean, everything was so clean. ¡°Good luck, kid,¡± he said and patted my good arm. ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, and drifted off again. There was more shaking and then other voices. ¡°Airman Korolyov? You with us?¡± ¡°Here.¡± I tried to focus on the man before me. ¡°I¡¯m here.¡± ¡°I¡¯m your doctor; name¡¯s Jim Brosk. First drugs going in now.¡± The nurses had already started the injection, and I felt the cold flooding through my veins. ¡°You¡¯ll be sleepy within a minute, then out of it. I¡¯ll see you on the other side, Rus. We¡¯ll look after you, I promise.¡± ¡°See y¡ª¡± *** When I woke up the next time, my mind was totally foggy. I tried to focus but missed something. Something . . . There was no pain. It was dark, everything was dark, but there was no pain. Was I dead? ¡°Hello?¡± I croaked out. Sheesh, my voice sounded awful. Really bad. ¡°Anyone there?¡± No reply. I heard a soft beep beeping and could make out several machines around me. I put my head back on my pillow, and then it started to pound with the machine beeping. ¡°Anyone?¡± I whined. A hiss and then a voice. ¡°Glad you¡¯re finally awake.¡± There was a light in my eyes, and waves of nausea washed over me. ¡°I feel sick.¡± I gagged. The doc who had called himself Jim before helped me to sit up and gave me a bowl. I heaved, but nothing came out. ¡°I¡¯ll get you something for the nausea,¡± he said and moved to a side cabinet. A moment later, he was adding something to a drip. ¡°You gave us a hell of a scare in there, kid.¡± I hated the fact everyone called me a kid. The drugs entering my system immediately started to make me feel better, but I heaved a few more times before my stomach fully settled. ¡°It¡¯s the tech,¡± he said. ¡°Disorients the mind for a little while. Almost ninety-nine percent are sick the moment they wake.¡± Tech. I was excited to see that despite the nausea threatening me once again. I couldn¡¯t access my HUD, though. I tried. ¡°Nothing¡¯s coming through,¡± I said. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°We will let you settle first, then let you access it with the touch of a button. Nothing¡¯s wrong.¡± ¡°Can you do it now?¡± I asked. ¡°That would go against protocol.¡± ¡°Doc, I have a massive list of things I need to catch up on. Every day counts. Can you turn it on?¡± ¡°Of course. But are you sure? The transition won¡¯t be easy.¡± ¡°I want to see,¡± I begged. ¡°Please.¡± ¡°Okay, but if it¡¯s too much, let me know.¡± I waited while he moved to the other side of my bed. Searing hot pain lit my face on fire, and I couldn¡¯t help but cry out. Then it went off. Nothing. ¡°Too soon,¡± Jim said. I put my hand to my neck and reassured myself that nothing had melted away, which is what it had felt like. Then I concentrated on just breathing. ¡°Again.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to prove yourself to anyone in here, airman.¡± ¡°Again,¡± I ordered. Jim touched the pad to his right again. This time I was prepared for it. I grabbed the blankets tightly and held on as the pain ravaged my mind. White hot and burning, I squeezed my eyes closed and forced my scream down this time. I breathed in and out, holding onto those blankets for dear life. It would go away. It would go away. I was sure of it. It felt like forever. Jim never spoke, never moved. Or at least I didn¡¯t think he did. I read over the new stat for the brain and hand mod, and my mind was blown again. When the pain settled and the burning eased, though it still felt like fire, I opened my eyes. Jim was standing on the other side of my bed now, pointing a handheld scanner at me. ¡°Usually, there are lot more chemical changes in the brain,¡± he said. ¡°You adapted fast to the extreme neural input from the tech.¡± ¡°Why is it so different?¡± I asked. ¡°Why am I so different?¡± ¡°You listened, but you didn¡¯t really take in what any of them told you before surgery, did you?¡± I shrugged, finally loosening my fingers¡¯ grip on my blankets. I stretched them out, feeling them for the first time. Everything felt so vastly different. I held my hand up in front of my face and just stared. Jim moved up closer to level with me. ¡°Surgery fixed all of your internal bruising, a few tier-two replacement organelles, but you still have to heal properly around them. The brace is temporary. Your broken bones have been set, and we have introduced several additional sets of medical nanites to you. The nites went to work immediately, speeding up the healing process around your entire body. Your spleen was a mess and bleeding on your kidneys, too; that was also fixed, though you¡¯re going to be peeing blood and gunk for a while as those nites work out the rest of the internal bruising. Once the life-threatening surgery was complete, we looked at your tech, which was¡ª¡± ¡°Lacking,¡± I admitted and lowered my hand. ¡°Yes, unbelievably so. But not anymore. You have a fresh start, Ruslan.¡± ¡°A fresh start,¡± I repeated. I swallowed; my head throbbed. I wanted to look, to see everything I could, but I couldn¡¯t. ¡°Tired?¡± Jim asked. I just nodded. ¡°Lie back. From the looks of it, you¡¯ve been running yourself ragged for several months. Rest while you can. You¡¯ll be back to running ragged in no time.¡± That I understood, and I let myself fall asleep again.