《Sola: Harvest of Souls - A Cyberpunk LitRPG》


 Prologue

    2044:


    United Denver Metropolis


    Dark blood dripped around thick bone coated in malleable metallic circuitry.  Bits of flesh hung from the wide open wound.  Shotgun pellets were embedded in the crimson mass.


    It was a point blank shot, enough to kill a normal man. But the time of normal humanity had ended in the west. Such enhancements had become common in North America, where the technology was guarded behind corporate political interest and red tape so thick that it hadn¡¯t yet been shared with the rest of the world.


    ¡°...and just like that, Kann stands back up.  What a competitor!  What an athlete!¡± The announcer shouted in amazement. The men who fought on the holographic display today were Techbound.  Fully enhanced combatants, irreversibly operated on to sport the most cutting edge cybernetics that the North American Union, the NAU, had to offer.


    A corporate technical executive by the name of Gradius Byun watched the holo on his couch, admiring the cybernetics of the arena fighters. Even when coated in blood, the enhancements¡¯ moisture repellant logos remained easy to read. ¡°NeuroCybertec¡± shined through a split forehead, and the open chest cavity. Suddenly the match was interrupted as a national alert cut into the holo.


    ¡°For your own safety.  Please remain indoors.¡± Scrolled across the bottom of the holo as a newscaster hurriedly took a seat. Gradius stood, grabbing his glass of scotch and furrowing his brow.


    ¡°This is an emergency report from your Union leaders. An antigrav vessel has just been detected off the coast of Seattle. It is believed to be of Eurasian Consortium design. It is advised that all NAU citizens remain indoors.¡±


    A large, round, and heavily armored vehicle could be seen hovering above the ocean on the holo. Gradius¡¯s jaw clenched.


    ¡°The vessel appears to have come to a stop.¡±  A number of moments passed. The ship hung dead still below the clouds as the newscaster repeated the details of the situation.


    Then an aperture opened on the bottom of the vehicle.  A long rod fired into the ocean below at incredible speed. Moments passed by, feeling like an eternity.  All the while, Gradius watched the holo intently.  NAU security forces had finally arrived and were now firing at the ship.  It took a surprising amount of damage before finally crashing into the ocean.


    Silence.  Nothing happened. Gradius watched with millions of others across the Union, waiting for something, anything to happen.  What had the rod done?  Why had they come all this way to fire a rod into the ocean and die?  The holo flipped to a live feed of Yellowstone National Park.


    Clouds above were ravaged into hollow whisps as a shockwave cascaded across an amber sky.  Red light reflected from the eyes of onlookers in the park below. The color consumed all that it touched. It stretched itself forward, spreading the promise of fear and destruction at the speed of thought.


    A wide burst of roiling lava belched out coal black plumes of smoke as it enrobed the earth and rock of the park.  The ashen cloud blossomed with altitude, raining scorching jagged rocks below and raising contamination above.  Gouts of gray and black ash reached high into the stratosphere, blocking the setting sun and gradually casting a shadow over the west coast of North America.


    Twelve million lives ended within seconds; pulverized, overcome, buried, and choked with the ashen slurry cementing within their lungs.  The debris and soot stretched over Wyoming, Colorado, Montana, Idaho, and Utah.


    Along the fringes of the United Denver Metropolis, autonomous flying vehicles were overwhelmed and suddenly dropped to the ground as ash and debris choked their engines.  Their passengers were cooked within as the vehicles overheated and burst into flames. They descended in waves.


    In the city¡¯s core, Gradius gazed in horror from his rattling penthouse window.  First there was a loud cracking sound that seemed to split the air itself.  Then the setting sun faded to red and purple darkness and the ground began to rumble as the quaking earth overtook the city, immediately toppling many of the taller buildings on the north western edge.


    Gradius''s countenance slipped into shock with the sight of ash pouring over the city and buildings crumbling into clouds of dust.  His reflection vibrated, blurring in his vision as the blooming darkness grew beyond and ashen debris pelted the window.


    The condensation of his scotch glass slipped against his fingers, catching itself only by its rim.  A breath rested unwillingly in his lungs.  A warm metallic hand grasped his arm, allowing the drink to finally alight from his fingertips and smash to the floor.  It was Donna.  Her mouth was moving, but the sound was only a dull warbling to his ears.  She looked panicked.  Insistent.


    Finally, a wave of alertness flashed across his mind.  Donna¡¯s voice cut through the tempting whisper of hopelessness within him.


    ¡°Now!  We have to go!  Right now!¡±  The strength of her words broke the icy hold of fear.  He felt the adrenaline swell up within as it overflowed from her.


    ¡°Y-yes...  Yes!¡±  Gradius shouted, grasping his keys from the glass table by the door.


    They erupted into the hallway together.  Donna¡¯s dark eyes locked onto his.


    ¡°You with me now?¡± she asked.  Her intense gaze demanded his attention.  Her military training overwhelming all sense of panic.  ¡°We have to go!¡±


    The lights in the hall flickered as neighbors rushed past.  The building wavered with the gnashing of the substrate beneath it and the weight of the ash atop.


    ¡°NO!  NO!¡±  One of the neighbors screamed, hammering the elevator¡¯s call button.  He slammed his palms against the silver doors.  In the rumbling chaos, they split apart a fraction to show the empty shaft beyond.  The man pried at the seam, pulling a wider gap and looking down.  Screams could be heard echoing up the shaft with gunshots following.  Then only the beeping and shifting of blocked doors could be heard from below.  The man slipped back from the door and looked at Gradius and Donna.  ¡°Fuck...¡± he muttered in disbelief.


    Tears swelled in his eyes and his hand rose to his forehead.  He slumped to his knees as the last ounce of confidence sunk from his body.  ¡°Fuck...¡± he said again, quieter this time.


    ¡°Come with us,¡±  Gradius pleaded, but it was too late.  The man had already descended into the dark draw of hopelessness.


    ¡°There¡¯s no time...¡±  The man turned away, his hand finding the cold nickel plating of the gun beneath his blazer.  He released the clip to check its load.  ¡°There¡¯s enough for you, too.¡±  The clip locked back into place and he raised the weapon to his head.  Then he freed a bullet into his brain with a loud reverberating blast that erupted through the tight space of the hallway and sprayed all manner of viscera along the wall.  His body slumped forward to drip down the edge of the elevator shaft.  The body twitched and the gun thunked heavily against the marble tiled floor.


    Gradius and Donna backed away a step, then two.  Gradius''s eyes winced with the sight.  Donna clenched her teeth and pushed her husband down the hall toward the stairwell, slamming him through the door.


    ¡°You keep your head, or we die,¡± she spoke pointedly, keeping her eyes on his.  He breathed heavily, then they grasped hands. Below, people funneled endlessly downward in a whirl of screams and shouts.  All of them were members of the upper crust.  All of them had been reduced to cornered animals.


    A woman jumped over the stairwell railing, falling over thirty stories before finally crashing into a pool of heads below.  Rushing down the stairs, Donna and Gradius were soon pulled into the maelstrom.  The air was thick with the humidity of packed flesh.  An unceasing cacophony of voices roared around them.  If they were going to stand any chance at all, they would have to find a way through the chaos.


    The sticking heat and musky sweat of bodies surrounded them as they edged their way between both the flesh and the metal of people.  Raging washes of self-preservation rippled through the crowd, consuming the humanity of all present.  All but Donna.  Never Donna.  She held her calm, calling on her vast well of battlefield experience to focus on forward momentum.


    The war¡­  Gradius thought.  Tonight, it has hit us like never before.  He admired Donna as she carved a path through the writhing pour of bodies.  He never could have been strong enough for this on his own.  He would have taken the offer of the bullet back at the elevator, or stayed at the window, watching his world burn away.  Here they were, having cut their way through more than ten stories of flesh because of Donna¡¯s sheer strength of will.


    The firm solidity of stairs gave way to a soft uneven slip of remains.  Those who had lost their footing.  Those who were trampled, jumped from higher floors, or otherwise consumed by the tide.


    ¡°Don¡¯t think about it,¡±  Donna called back.  ¡°Just focus on moving forward.¡±  Her voice was almost inaudible amongst the wail and shuffle of the flow.  It was getting thicker now.  The press of bodies was harder to move between.  They could see the packed doorway leading out into the ground floor below.  It was only three more flights of blood slick stairs until they would be there, at the bottom.


    Suddenly Donna stopped and dropped Gradius''s hand.  She sunk low, wrestling her way between a pair of exhausted men.  When she rose again through the press of muscle, she was holding a young child, bloodied and bruised, but otherwise only suffering from fear.  An elderly man in front of her frantically turned around and took the child from her, eyes gleaming with the hot tears of terror and relief.


    The image burned itself into Gradius''s brain.  The sight of a grandfather holding his grandson with a mixture of fear and elation. In a moment of clear interpretation, he saw them.  It was the perfect illustration of the living struggle in this age.  Bloodied and battered, they survived by the skin of their teeth.  Life is cheap for young and old alike, and if it wasn¡¯t for a corporate soldier like Donna, one of them would be dead now.  Wasn¡¯t it just like Donna to save someone?  It¡¯s why she fought in the war, to protect people, to save lives.  She had worked her way up the ranks of the North American Union Government Military to become a high level commander, guiding armies of security forces against those of the Eurasian Consortium.


    But not Gradius.  He didn¡¯t have a military bone in his body.  His work was in corporate research and development for the military, where he would ply his trade of building better cybernetic intratech for the rich and powerful.  He and Donna both worked for the NAU in different ways, and both of them had contributed to this moment in time.  Corporate greed had spilled out over the lives of the people in a new way.  The subtlety of diplomacy had been replaced with all out war.


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    By 2037, Corporations had replaced political parties in democratic nations around the world. Company CEOs and Presidents became actual world leaders and the age of corporate government had begun.  It wasn¡¯t long before corporate war had become a means to obtain research and technology from rivals worldwide.


    What had once been a polite request for the NAU to share their powerful cybernetics intratech with the rest of the world, had turned into a full scale assault on North American greed itself.  After five years, the war had reached a boiling point that there truly was no coming back from.


    Donna had seen the worst of it, and she never spoke a word about it to anyone.  Nonetheless, she still retained her goodness.  That¡¯s something the war couldn¡¯t take from her, but Gradius, he always teetered on the edge of morality.


    Gradius watched as the old man disappeared with his grandson, becoming two indistinguishable drops in an ocean once again.  Donna¡¯s eyes found her husband¡¯s once more and a new connection was formed between them, an awakening.  They were tired from the push, the struggle, the fight.  Yet they were also strangely renewed, knowing that after this night, everything would change.  They would change, and they would change the world for the better.  No matter the cost.


    Donna and Gradius finally made their way through the stairwell doorway into the lobby.  Gradius squinted over the sea of heads toward the glass windows and vestibule doors, and his expression dropped.  Denver Metropolis police had blocked the doors with their shields.  They were keeping people in.  Shouts of rage reverberated through the lobby.


    Flesh and metal fists slammed against the bulletproof lobby glass.  The squawking metallic sound of a loudspeaker rang from outside, but it was impossible to decipher over the burning vitriol growing among the crowd.  A holo-sign flickered to life on the side of a DMPD riot van.  ¡°For your safety, stay in your homes.¡±  Scrolls came across the sign in calming powder blue as ash poured down from the sky.


    ¡°What are they doing?!¡±  Donna shouted in vexation.  ¡°They¡¯re going to get us killed!¡±


    A massive rumble began to shake the building more.  ¡°The inertial dampeners in the substructure are failing!  They can¡¯t keep the building stable!¡±  Gradius yelled over the din to Donna.  Then he remembered something about the building and pulled Donna close so he could speak more privately into her ear. ¡°The freight elevator.  It¡¯s reinforced.  It¡¯s not a safe room, but it¡¯s the best chance we¡¯ve got.¡±


    Gunshots rang out, thunking heavily into the lobby windows.  A panicked officer returned fire through the vestibule doors as people pried them open with bloodied hands.  Shotgun blasts ripped through the people at the door.  Hatred responded as the crowd pulled the officer inward, where he was torn apart.  With one less shield to block the doorway, the people spilled out into the street.  Some ran for freedom, others continued to unleash fury onto the officers.  A shadow covered them all as the building leaned, a looming curve that smashed into the opposing building across the street.  Concrete, glass, and personal effects rained upon all below.


    Gradius and Donna sliced a path through the lobby crowd to a maintenance hall where the freight elevator was supposed to be; but when they arrived, they found that it was already down in the sublevel.  Donna reached her chrome fingers around the door and pulled it wide, looking down upon the elevator¡¯s roof.  Gradius jumped onto the roof and kicked the hatch open.  A shocked gasp came from within.  Cracks began to split the wall behind Donna.


    Gradius and Donna slipped into the elevator to see the building superintendent and his family cowering in the corner.  Donna sat across from them.  Gradius followed as everything around them shook in the deafening rain of concrete and steel.  Gravity shifted within the elevator, the walls crumpling inward.


    Gradius silently held the gaze of the superintendent.  Then the man squeezed his eyes shut as another shower of debris poured through the open ceiling hatch.  Gradius continued watching the man.  Here they were, rich and poor in the same coffin, protecting the only things they could in this moment.  Their people.


    ¡°If we get out of this...¡±  Gradius whispered to Donna.  ¡°We will change the world for people like him.  We will put an end to corporate war.¡±  His eyes shifted to look at the children as they fearfully clung to the man.  ¡°This is no world for children.  Not yet.¡±


    Donna edged closer to him, thinking on his words.  Change didn¡¯t come easily in these times.  It would be dangerous to even try, but she knew that he was right, and she felt it too.  The drive to save people from the crushing weight of corporate control.  They could do it, but it would require a shift in power.  Their first task was to survive the night.


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    ¡°...and now for tonight¡¯s lead story.  The triggered eruption of Yellowstone National Park has destroyed the North American west coast, and forced the entire continent to rely on foreign trade to survive.  The NAU has surrendered to the Eurasian Consortium, and refugees from the west continue to pour eastward seeking safety and a chance at a new life.


    ¡°The city of SOLA has become especially appealing for refugees due to its policy on accepting the needy and its dependence on ¡®old fashioned¡¯ politics.  However, room has run out, and homelessness is rampant.


    ¡°We have darker days ahead of us, as we wait to see what will come of these events.  On a personal note, I wish you all well, and I hope that you find yourselves some safety this night.  This has been Garrett Shand for NAU News, signing off.¡±


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    2066:


    SaeSyn Incorporated HQ, SOLA Megalopolis


    ¡°Then where the hell is she?!¡±  Gradius shouted into the phone, held white knuckled to his ear.  Two year old Darius watched his father from the office floor.  His eyes glistening, lips trembling at the sudden outburst of anger.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t tell you, but I have contracted top tier encryption-crackers to trace the virus that grounded her armored flight.  Our investigators at the crash site have recovered the bodies of her guard detail.  There are signs that she fought back, Gradius.¡±  The voice of Del Peck spoke back through the device.


    Gradius''s eyes rimmed with a subtle glaze.  His voice became a shadow.  ¡°That¡¯s Donna¡­  She¡¯ll fight them the whole way, Del.¡±


    ¡°She will, but they¡¯ll win in the end,¡±  Del paused.  ¡°Look.  You knew this could happen.  I warned you when we started this thing.  Personal attachments are the biggest threat to business.  You promised me that it wouldn¡¯t be a problem.¡±


    ¡°Del, this isn¡¯t the time for I told you s...¡±


    ¡°Yes, it is!¡±  Del interrupted.  ¡°You knew better than to send her on that flight!  I don¡¯t need the investigators to tell me who did this.  It¡¯s the Consortium!  They¡¯ve caught wind of your work!  They¡¯ll kill her if we don¡¯t give them schematics!¡±


    Gradius brought a thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose.  Since the Consortium had ended the war by triggering the Yellowstone Catastrophe, they had forced the North American government to trade tech for food.  However, in cases where the tech was secretive, the Consortium took it forcefully.


    ¡°Damn...¡±  His jaw clenched.  ¡°They¡¯ll kill her even if we do give them the schematics.  Two birds, Del.  They want to do more than just cripple us.  She knows things... about the war.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±  Del spoke in measured tones.


    ¡°We both know the war didn¡¯t really end, it just returned to boardrooms where it belongs.  She served as a commander for the NAU, Del,¡±  Gradius''s voice quavered.


    Del''s breath caught in his throat.  ¡°They¡¯ll use every tool at their disposal to learn everything she knows.  Fuck.  They¡¯ll have already started!¡±


    ¡°Regressive algorithms run directly into her core.  They¡¯ll replay her memories like a holovid and she¡¯ll dictate every detail back to them.  They¡¯d have every piece of confidential knowledge in her brain.  Then they¡¯ll torture her, simply for the cost she had incurred them back in the war.¡±  Gradius looked at Darius, sitting in the middle of the office floor with the dull shine of tears streaking his cheeks.  Then he found himself suddenly unable to look at the boy, choosing instead to move to the window, staring 77 stories down at the distant lights of modified dozers pushing decades old ash into Lake Ontario.


    Load by load, after all these years, they still tried to expand SOLA city.  It was an image of hope to Gradius mere moments ago.  Now, thinking about Donna, he looked down at the work as useless.  Something within him was breaking.  He spied Darius again from the corner of his eye.  Watching his son, all he saw in the boy now was risk.  No world for a child.  He thought.


    ¡°You were right, Del¡­ About the whole thing.¡±  Gradius felt his eyes dry as a coldness settled deep within.  There is an empty void now, in a place that once held hope.  He accepted his mistake.  ¡°The prototypes go on the back burner.  We¡¯ll start work on the compression project.  More money in that.¡±


    ¡°And Donna?¡±  Del asked, knowing the answer already.


    ¡°When the Consortium sends their proxy to demand the schematics, tell them that the answer is no.¡±  His voice was stern in the knowledge that Donna may yet draw breath, but she was effectively already dead, and there was nothing they could do about it.


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    Donna¡¯s body was found three weeks later in the freezer of an abandoned outskirts truck stop.  Gradius stood over the freezer absorbing the image of her.  Internalizing every incision and every bruise.  Losing fragments of himself with every new acknowledgement of her pain.


    She had been his strength, his moral center, the one person he loved more than himself.  For a moment, he imagined her in his arms again.  He felt the soft warmth of her skin, smelled the cool sweetness of her perfume, and heard the rhythmic draw of her breath.  Then the moment was torn away from him in the crushing knowledge that he would never have that again.  He sunk into the acknowledgement of his role in her death¡­ and his denial to save her.


    He gazed at her rigid body now with offset chiseled teeth.  The pallid blue in her ebony skin, the cold iron stench of her blood, and the still silence.  He saw the sweat that had crystalized on her tightly furrowed brow.  The anger still locked on her face.  The agony that had consumed her in those last moments was buried there beneath the rage.


    With a numb hand, he reached down to touch her cheek.  Her open eyes stared blankly beyond him.  Beyond the wall.  Beyond all creation.  His fingers grazed the matted crust of blood in her hair.  He recoiled, and a hot vapor of tears burned to the corners of his eyes.  His breath caught in his throat as the story of her suffering compiled in his mind.  Admitting now, how much worse it had been than he had ever imagined.


    The picture was completing itself despite him.  How long she had lived through the pain before finally receiving the grace of death.  He could see where the life-support machines were connected.  He could see how she had been kept alive to endure, to hope, to fear, to die only when they wanted her to.


    His hand settled against her face, and he felt something shift beneath the swelling.  A plate of her cybernetics had shifted during the beating.  It now sit loosely under the skin.  He swallowed hard, building the courage to finally look at what he had thus far refused to see.  Her missing pieces.  The new arms he had made for her as an anniversary present were gone. Taken, no doubt, to be studied in place of the schematics that they had wanted.


    Those shoulders.  Those powerful warm hands that he had loved, that had held their child.  They had been so much more than just cybernetics.  They were a part of her; but now they were in the possession of those who had tortured her, murdered her, and torn her apart.


    His fingers lost their warmth, soaking the incendiary cold of her skin into his.  Something within him was dying.  It had begun that night when he had given up on her.  The more real it all became, the more he lost.


    Gradius crushed his eyelids together, pressing his tears into slick streaks down his face.  Teeth grinding.  Fingers losing all sense of touch.  He opened his eyes, the cold wisps of frozen air cooling them.  His tears no longer flowed.  The numbness sunk deeper into him.  To his very core.


    He breathed in slowly.


    He wrapped his arms around Donna, and pried her frosted skin from the side of the freezer.  He carried her rigid body through the truck stop doorway and to the car waiting outside.


    Del watched him approach through slit eyes.  Unabashed.


    ¡°This has to be it, Gradius.  Doesn¡¯t matter what you do.  As long as you care for your son, he¡¯ll be a liability to the company.  And if the company dies, then all this will have been for nothing.  Step away from the kid.  Let the caretakers raise him.¡±  His voice was stern and unwavering.


    Gradius paused, eyes still on Donna.  He nodded in silent agreement as he closed the door.  Turning slowly to Del.  He stared with empty bloodshot eyes.  Now a husk of the man he had once been.

 1.0 - Metamorphosis

    2084 - Present Day:


    SOLA Megalopolis


    Stifled sharp breaths tightly reverberated among the bunker walls.  A young man sat alone, steeped in the penetrating dampness of the room.   Pain burrowed beneath his skin.  It reached, throbbing, probing, from the raw nerve endings of his flesh down into his deepest parts.  It racked his mind with an overwhelming surge of unending alertness and the weight of exhaustion to accompany it.


    He held his breath a moment to listen for the threat of movement beyond the bunker door.  Among that dread silence, an oppressive fear constricted itself tighter within him.  It had descended upon him in the darkness of the room, called by his guilt, compounded by his pain.


    A sheet was draped loosely over his bare back.  The slimy concrete beneath him was frigid.  His breath billowed out in the chill air as a white mist as he continued its ragged flow.


    The darkness of the bunker was pierced only by a trio of red LEDs on the door.  The young man looked at them, comforted in the knowledge that its lock was still engaged.  Layers of grime on the ceiling, walls, and floor reflected the dim crimson glow of those lights.  Moisture seeped through cracks in the concrete, leaving mottled trails and pools of green, black, and brown.  The young man imagined it seeping towards him.  The tiny bunker filling up over hundreds of years with him still locked inside.


    Burning tears begin to edge their way from his drying eyes once again.  He moved to bury his face into his forearm, but it met only the bitter cold of metal.  He quickly drew back, realizing yet again with a slow descent in the pit of his stomach that this body was no longer his.  Not the way it once was.


    Where once was flesh, now so much metal.


    The surgery was involuntary, rushed, and it ended prematurely.  They had taken his arms, replacing them with the cold steel that seared him with every touch.  They had replaced his spine with a new one, jutting from his back like a chrome chain split through his inflamed skin.  Chip ports had been drilled into his skull.  Nodes were implanted into the temporal, occipital, parietal, and frontal lobes of his brain.  A mesh now lined a portion of the cerebellum, which branched off into a series of smaller components.  His eyes had also been taken from him, replaced with the cool glassy feel of cybernetic optics.  These were only some of the changes.


    The operation had reached deeply into his body.  The only augmentations he¡¯d noticed so far were those of his spine, skull, and arms.  The rest were masked by the pain of an incomplete surgery, and the malfunction of the cybernetics itself.


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    At eighteen years of age, he was now old enough to get cybernetic implants.  It was a right of passage in many ways.  However, for most people, it was elective.  Not like this.


    He had spent his life in East Coast luxury, never wanting for much.  He got to eat fresh food, untainted by ash or contamination.  He had the best furniture, entertainment, and care.  Yet, despite the trappings of privilege, he had somehow learned humility.  Maybe it was the distance of his father and his yearning to be seen as good and worthy.  Or maybe it was instilled in him by his caretakers, unconsciously giving him glimpses of life on the other side of the tracks.  Either way, he had developed an understanding that what is gained can be lost.


    In the excess of protection, he knew little of the world.  What he did know of it was tainted, sanitized by a corporate academic perspective.  He was taught nothing of his father¡¯s work, company, or business at all, learning only about nonsense analytics and accounting.  What he craved was to know more about the world outside his home.


    Although other caretakers had been tempted to indulge his curiosity, only one had let him watch television.  Andrea knew his desire to learn about the lives that others lived.  She would indulge him when he asked questions.  She was the closest thing to a real friend that he¡¯d ever known, but even that was short lived.


    One night, she sat down with him to watch Armored Expedite, but was soon brought to a tremble of uncontrollable tears.  The show was a glorified display of ¡°real events¡± in SOLA.  Dramatized reenactments of true stories were spliced with actual footage of the Armored Expedite team, moving high value people from one place to another throughout the dangers of the city districts.  The moment that had broken her involved a man who had attacked the cab.  He had succeeded in blowing out the left tires of the vehicle, causing it to careen into an iron post.  The attacker came into clear view.


    Her voice had caught in her throat when his image became clear on the screen.  Shortly afterward, his head was reduced to pulp by a shotgun blast from the armored vehicle¡¯s driver.  The footage had been cleaned up quite well, and it was slowed down for effect.  She saw everything in detail.  For a show that was a continual display of real and dramatized violence, this was not anything out of the ordinary.  Yet there was Andrea, hand over mouth, shaking in silent horror.


    At that time, the young man had turned the television off, and sat with her.  They never turned it on again.  In the weeks to follow, she¡¯d become more quiet.  Then eventually, she stopped coming at all.


    The young man thought about this moment with Andrea often.  Thinking about it at this moment, he wondered about his own humanity and these new parts that replaced those which had been stolen from him.


    He imagined her face.  Her lips saying his name.  He couldn¡¯t read them.  He couldn¡¯t imagine what she was saying.  What was his name?  He couldn¡¯t remember it.  A cold chill settled within his metal spine.  Another throb of intense pain forced its way into his brain.  Then he couldn¡¯t remember Andrea either.

 1.1

    He closed his eyes where the tears had sat too long, growing cold against the glassy finish there.  They followed the well worn paths that had been set for them, further cooling the skin of his cheeks.  He probed his mind for a memory.  What did he remember from before the surgery?  His father.


    The slick of his hair.  The tan complexion.  The mouth, saying a name.  Focus on the name.  Focus on the name.  Focus.  ¡°Darius!¡±  He heard his father¡¯s voice in his mind.  It was the night before this one.  His father had arrived at the house, and demanded that Darius leave with him immediately.  Why?


    Darius struggled to remember.  Father looked like he was afraid.  Normally, he just looked distant, uncaring, angry.  This was the first time Darius had ever seen him afraid.


    ¡°Darius!  Come!  Quickly!¡± he shouted.


    Another memory formed as a vision of a landing pad on the roof of their home.  An ex-pilot in the cockpit of a private jet.  The engines were running, and Darius was being dragged into it by his father.


    ¡°Dad, what¡¯s happening?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not safe here anymore.  I¡­ had to make a choice.  I chose you.¡±  The hardness of his expression cracked, and vapors of emotion encapsulated him.


    Darius looked at his father, not understanding, not breathing.  He cleared his throat.  ¡°Dad.  Where are we going?¡±


    ¡°The SOLA office.  There¡¯s something we have to do there.¡±  He gritted his teeth, regaining his cold composure.


    ¡°We?¡±  Darius had a mixture of hope and overwhelming confusion writhing within.  There had never been a ¡°we¡± before.


    ¡°Yes.¡±  Practiced statuesque business tone returning to his father.  ¡°We are going to the office.  It will take a few hours to get there.  Now, no more questions.  There are ears in that jet.¡±


    Despite the relatively short travel time, the flight felt like an age.  Time was stagnant with silent tension, and the wonder of seeing something of the world outside.  Darius watched through the window the entire trip.  He saw the lights of Miami, the city where his home had been.  The dark dusty expanse dotted with the wandering encampments of the Carolinas, Virginia, Pennsylvania, and New York.  Then, the dustlands of Ontario came into view, and soon there was a glowing fluorescent beacon breaching the horizon.  SOLA.


    As they drew closer, Darius could see lit billboards flanking decaying roads.  Small abandoned towns sat like dark skeletal corpses amongst the sand and dirt.  As the jet began its descent towards the city, he could see the monolithic buildings.  Such tall buildings edging a mass of construction zones.  All of them were paneled and framed with advertising and neon, shining through the night itself; awaiting the red morning sun as it crested behind the jet.


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    The jet landed in a large deserted parking lot outside of the city¡¯s southern limits where an armored Intelligent Flying Vehicle was waiting.  In the growing crimson light of morning, Darius and his father were quickly and quietly led across dusty asphalt to the vehicle.  A team of medics drew Darius onto one of the seats where they pulled his sleeve up to the shoulder and swabbed a patch of skin with cool alcohol.  Then they injected something into his arm, and he began to feel a floating sensation in his head.  His father sat in the seat across from them, watching Darius in apparent disinterest.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡±  Darius slurred.


    Gradius only replied saying, ¡°We¡¯ll be at the office soon.¡±


    The IFV doors shut, and it lifted from the ground moving toward their destination in SOLA¡¯s downtown core.  Darius rested his heavy head against the window, peering at the city from an awkward angle.  Lights became neon trails in his pacified brain.  A skyscraper featured a massive screen encompassing most of its upper floors.  The screen faded from black to red, and the face of a woman turned to smile.  Unintelligible words glided below her face but Darius could only focus on her eyes.  In his wavering mind, he believed she was welcoming him, he smiled for the first time on this trip.


    The light trails in his vision intensified, and he felt his stomach dip as the IFV made a rapid ascent up a very large, and fairly new building.


    ¡°Is the team ready?¡±  Gradius asked the driver through an intercom.


    ¡°Yes.  Waiting on the roof as requested,¡± the driver responded, his voice echoing in Darius''s head.


    ¡°They¡¯ll have to move fast.  We¡¯re late as it is,¡± Gradius spat the words.  Darius had a hard time focusing on his father¡¯s face, unable to lift his head anymore.


    The IFV settled on the landing pad.  Medics took each of Darius''s arms, dragging him toward a small structure protruding from the roof.  A set of double doors glided open on the structure.  Darius''s head drooped forward.  Between his legs he saw the rooftops of other skyscrapers below.  He wondered how high they must have been.


    He felt a hot sensation below the skin of his face, and his teeth began to tingle as the medics pulled him into a plush elevator.  His father stood in front, not taking his eyes off of Darius.  He said something, but words no longer made sense to Darius''s mind.


    Eyelids heavy, Darius tried to hold them open.  However, the harder he tried, the heavier they felt.  The rest was darkness.


    In the bunker, Darius thought of his father.  The elevator was the last place he had seen him.  How much time had passed since then?  He now remembered something else.  Waking up.


    A sterile white room.  A sign that read ¡®Clean Room A¡¯ on a door.  Surgeons were asking him questions.


    ¡°Do you remember your name?¡±


    ¡°How many fingers do you see?¡±


    They were dragging him out of the room.  A familiar voice stretched to reach him from somewhere.  Del Peck?  His father¡¯s business partner.


    ¡°There¡¯s an old wartime bunker in the tunnel system beneath the building.  Take the first right, and the second left.  Keep him there for now.¡±


    ¡°What about his recovery?  The surgery isn¡¯t c...¡±  Someone began to ask.  A gunshot interrupted him, followed by the thump of his body outside of Darius''s vision.  His head rang with that explosive pop.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter,¡± a deep voice spoke from behind.


    Darius''s memory were images after this.  A hallway, a sublevel door, a tunnel, the end of his IV dragging through the crud of the tunnel floor, the bunker.

 1.2

    Darius closed his eyes, feeling guilt wash over him anew.  He wondered if he did something wrong to deserve this.  If he somehow missed something his father might have been trying to tell him.  Some explanation¡­ Maybe if he had been smarter, he could have understood the situation better.


    Soon after, another cold pulse pushed into his brain.  He reached back to feel the chip ports in his skull.  The flesh around them was swollen, bruised, and throbbing with heat.  He felt the chips locked into place below the skin.  Then he drew his hand away, realizing how dirty it was.  His new metal hands, with his new metal arms.  They felt like they¡¯re continually submerged in ice water.


    This is wrong.  He thought to himself.  One of the caretakers had a metal hand, and it felt warm, even on the colder days.


    He wiped grime from his fingers onto the sheet, his only covering.  Then he felt around his eyes. His face was swollen.  He poked at the flesh that bordered the cold metal shoulder of one of his arms.  He let out a gasp from his  thick dry throat.  The additional flash of pain almost made him lose consciousness.  Nausea grasped his stomach.  He had been on the edge of losing it all this time, but he forced himself to stay alert, awake.  He pressed his eyes shut tightly with the effort and felt something like a click inside them, and then a mild vibration.


    His vision suddenly flickered behind his eyelids.  He opened them to see a zoomed view of the chromed hand in front of his face.  Then some blurred lettering appeared on the left of his vision.  He couldn¡¯t quite make it out.  A short beep sounded from within his head and his vision flickered again.  The words were clearer, but he still couldn¡¯t make out the text.


    Another beep resounded from inside his brain and his spine began to tingle.  Then an electric cool permeated his arms followed by warmth.  Finally, warmth.


    He placed his hands together, noticing a purity of touch that he had never imagined could be possible.  It registered faster¡­ cleaner than his natural hands could sense.  It felt perfect.  Powerful, but it was also frighteningly new.  His confusion and fear surrounding the violation that this surgery had represented still remained, but a sense of wonder was growing as well.


    He peered at his hands through his engorged eyelids.  Another short flash crossed his vision.  The text!  He could finally read it.  Wavering on the edge of sight, he saw ¡°bration¡­ 4%¡±  Then it shifted with a flicker.  ¡°ibration¡­ 17%¡±  Flickered again.


    ¡°¡®New World¡¯ Prototype v0.112.9 - m.2029 - Property of SaeSyn Inc.


    Initial System Boot Sequence: 8% - Vision Calibration¡­ 4%


    Initial System Boot Sequence: 9% - Vision Calibration¡­ 17%


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    Initial System Boot Sequence: 10% - Vision Calibration¡­ 82%¡±


    His vision achieved an immediate clarity that he had never experienced before.  He saw colors that were altogether new, and noticed details that his natural eyes never would have seen.  The dim red darkness of the bunker was suddenly like daylight to him.  Then his vision flickered from infrared, to ultraviolet, to a grayscale, and then through a number of light and contrast settings before returning to the richly saturated view that had first made his vision clear.


    ¡°Initial System Boot Sequence: 11% - Vision Calibration¡­ 100%


    Initial System Boot Sequence: 11% - Chipset Verification¡­ 100%


    Initial System Boot Sequence: 11% - Chipset Installing¡­ 100%


    Initial System Boot Sequence: 12% - Chipset Testing¡­ 0%¡±


    Elements began to appear in his vision.  A targeting reticule focused, then disappeared.  His heart rate popped into view.  His heart began to race of its own accord.  His breath became ragged.  Then his heart and breathing slowed again on their own.  The heart rate disappeared from view.  A wall of text sped over the right side of his vision, detailing the names of infectious bacteria found in the various inflamed sections of his body.


    ¡°Initial System Boot Sequence: 12% - Chipset Testing¡­ 100%


    Initial System Boot Sequence: 15% - Medic Suite Scan¡­ 100%¡±


    ¡°System Online...¡±  The sound came alive in his ear canal.  The text showing clearly on the left side of his vision.


    ¡°Initial System Boot Sequence: 20% - Integrated Nervous System¡­ 0%¡±


    ¡°[ERROR] Left Arm¡±


    ¡°Run Diagnostic_Module(left-arm)¡±


    An electric tingle crept down his fingers.  Then an explosion of pain fired up the arm into his shoulder.


    ¡°Left Arm¡­ Malfunctioning¡±  He breathed hard, recovering from the shock.


    ¡°[BREACH DETECTED]


    [CRITICAL SYSTEM FAILURE]  Boot Aborted...


    Boot Sequence¡­ Initiated¡±


    [BREACH DETECTED]


    [CRITICAL SYSTEM FAILURE]   [CRITICAL SYS...


    WARNING:  Method ¡®TMP_controller¡¯ has been called but is not defined.


    CRITICAL WARNING: System temperature has exceeded factory limits.¡±


    Sudden scorching.  Unabated burning.  A white hot fire spread through his cybernetics, cooking the flesh that surrounded it.  Agonized tears gathered again at the corners of his eyes, and then they began to sizzle, bubble, and evaporate away, leaving a crust of minerals against the glassy finish.  Blisters formed and burst along the inflamed flesh bordering his new chromed spine.  He tried to scream, but his raw throat wouldn¡¯t cooperate.  He vomited instead.


    The bunker door opened, revealing a collection of black silhouettes as consciousness slipped from him and his world once again faded into darkness.

 2.0 - Gnosis

    ¡°Open your eyes.¡±  A familiar voice commanded impatiently through the fog in Darius''s head.  He remembered this voice.  He feared this voice.  It was Del Peck, his father¡¯s business partner.  A man whose countenance was always imbued with impatient disdain towards him.


    Darius pushed himself to alertness; some shadow of memory began to turn within him.


    His eyes were shut tightly with the pulsing thickness of their swell.  He pressed his brows higher, allowing him to gain a brief glimpse of light through a watery haze.  He could feel a rough crust in the corners of his eyelids.  He saw no cybernetic HUD, no text, no clarity.


    His face was bloated and blistered, pressed against the cold metal of a surgical table.  His strength failed, and he closed his eyes again; a new piercing pain fired behind them.


    None of the cybernetics would move.  It was dead and heavy metal, pressing him to the table.  He could only control his flesh, but it would not cooperate with him.  Not without the chrome spine ready to acknowledge his commands.  A catastrophic surge of agony raged throughout his body, urging him to give up.  To sleep.  To die.  Darius gritted his teeth instead.


    ¡°Open your eyes!¡±  Del growled, snapping his fingers.  Thick metallic hands roughly pried the swollen eyes open.  Blisters popped and oozed from the force, inspiring a soft airy scream from Darius''s dry and damaged throat.


    With metal holding his eyes wide, he saw Del sitting in a chair only three feet from his face.  Darius was back in the operating room.  The muscular hands of a P-Sec officer held his eyelids back.  Another musclebound P-Sec stood next to Del.  The massive cybernetic bulk of a borg stood behind.


    Del had a slight build, more body mod than man beneath his suit.  He was in his seventies now with a face that had been stretched taut over his skull to make him look much younger.  There was no threat of age that he hadn¡¯t defeated with the help of his surgeons and his money.  He rest back into his chair, maintaining an unnatural and unblinking eye contact.


    ¡°Darius Byun,¡±  Del said flatly.  ¡°Son of the late Gradius Byun.¡±


    Late?  Darius''s mind clung to the word.


    Del leaned closer.  ¡°You stole from the company.  You and your father, both.¡±  He gestured a hand over Darius''s body.  ¡°Why do you think he would do that?  He and I had a good thing going,¡± his voice was measured, nearly monotone.


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    He leaned back in his chair.  ¡°Why¡­ why do you think he would sign the company over to me, and then steal from the company by implanting all this dusty warehouse prototype tech into you?¡±  His eyes fell onto the arms, and his expression changed.  A flicker of partial understanding crossed his face.  ¡°He never could let go of his sentimental nature.  He was a fool to the end.¡±


    Darius forced a grunt from his throat. ¡°E-end?¡±


    ¡°Oh.  Right.  You wouldn¡¯t know.¡±  Del pulled a phone from his pocket, tapping the screen to show Darius the live video feed of his father¡¯s pulverized body, splattered over the pavement outside of the building.  Armored guards stood around the body.  ¡°Seventy-seven stories will do that to a man,¡±  he muttered coldly.  ¡°Suicide, most likely.¡±  A hint of a mocking tone whispered within his words and Darius didn¡¯t know whether to believe him or not.


    ¡°Y-ou¡­ killed¡­ him?¡±  Darius choked the words out, his grief trembling within him, shaking him to the depths of his soul.


    ¡°No, no.  He did this to himself,¡± Del spoke matter-of-factly.  Then he looked at Darius''s arms again.


    Darius''s eyes filled with tears.  The P-Sec forced them to open wider.


    ¡°This tech.  It belongs to the company.¡±  A seething bitterness burned beneath the words.  Then his expression became artificially soft.  ¡°But you¡¯ve been through a lot.  Keep it.  All of it.  It was destined for the trash anyway.¡±


    Darius was overcome with drowsiness, but was able to push past his horror and his grief to ask one final question.  ¡°W-hy?¡±


    ¡°Why do I let you live?  Because you serve no purpose to me alive or dead.  And because SOLA will probably take care of you all on its own.  It won¡¯t take much for them to spot those prototype cybernetics you¡¯re bearing.  You¡¯ll be harvested within the week.¡±  Del looked to the giant metal man behind him.  ¡°Geracht.  Let¡¯s be sporting.  Shock his cybernetics back to life, and drop him off somewhere in the city¡­ somewhere¡­ far from here.¡±


    Geracht stepped forward and the P-Sec released Darius''s eyes.  The massive borg clasped Darius by the head with one arm, and reached his other arm to touch the metal spine.  Then he unleashed a shattering  pulse of electricity through it.  Darius was overcome with a heaviness that he couldn¡¯t resist, and the world went dark once again.


    Del stood up, turned his back on Darius''s unconscious body and hesitated for a fraction of a second before leaving the room.  The two P-Sec officers followed, but Geracht remained.  He thought about just killing the boy.  Tearing him apart and tossing the pieces into a dumpster somewhere.  A cool soothing sensation passed over his brain at the thought.  It would be simple, pleasurable, and final.  His armored fingertips began to press tighter against Darius''s scalp, but he stopped himself with grit teeth and the pain of discipline.  Del might ask him for proof of ¡°delivery¡±.  Pressing against the desire to disassemble, his better judgement prevailed.


    He grabbed Darius by the legs and tossed him back first over a shoulder like a wet towel.  Darius''s metal spine clanged densely against Geracht¡¯s plating.  It had been a satisfying night.  A productive night.  This was the only loose end, and it bothered him.  Then the augmented muscle of his face brimmed into a smile.  Geracht had the perfect place in mind to leave this stupid boy.  It would help scratch the itch a little, but he would have to release his aggression in other ways.

 2.1

    A thick ebony finger grazed the screen of a phone.  Tube ceiling lights and fluorescent strips of pillar lighting began to flicker on with a nearly imperceptible hum.  It dispeled shadows from the cavernous remains of what was once a department store.  A large 1947 Wurlitzer jukebox clicked to life with the searing glow of neon.


    A substantial hand jaunted across the front of the jukebox, flicking specs of dust from the surface before resting to hover over the keypad.  The muscled index finger found B, then 1, and finally 7.  Whirrs and clacks echoed from behind the jukebox¡¯s glowing facade.  Beneath the glass, a thin metal arm plucked a record from its tower, placed it, and then retreated back to rest.  The record spun with the momentary crackle and fuzz that preceded the purity of historic sound.


    A rising swell of rhythm guitar and the powerful thump of drums filled the space, reverberating back from the distant walls and between the empty staggered shelving.


    The bright glow from the jukebox was almost engulfed by the wide silhouette of a man.  His long hair shifted over his shoulders, black braids secured by thin luminescent cable.  Silver shades obscured his dark brown eyes.  A cigar was held lightly between his teeth, wisping smoke from a thick clump of ash at its end.  The man grasped the cigar between two fingers, drawing it away from his mouth.  He pressed his palms against the jukebox, closing his eyes, absorbing the sound.


    His rumbling voice quaked its way from his throat and past his trim beard, mimicking the crunching electric guitar that tore from the speakers.


    He turned around and moved toward a 50s diner banquette seat in the shape of the backend of a fin-backed, white wall tired car.  His leathery trenchcoat caught the light of the jukebox breaking it up into a diffuse shuffle of sparks against black. Loose black leather pants draped his chrome legs ending in heavy standard issue NAU combat boots.  The war took his legs, and he kept the boots.


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    He took a seat on the diner banquette and butted out his cigar.  Thin cables stretched of their own accord from beneath the vinyl padding before magnetically snapping into hexagonal skull plates beneath his hairline.  It was one of his favorite acquisitions, an experimental VR suite that he¡¯d integrated into the chair himself.


    The pupils of his eyes glowed blue as the signal streamed into his brain.  He felt wood against his fingers, he smelled lilies, he saw the blinding blur of white.  The vision of a room opened before him.  The sun shined warmly through tall thin windows.  Green plants dotted the bright white walls.  A stippled ceiling composed of polished hardwood rose above.


    His avatar within the simulation cleared his throat, hands resting atop a pulpit.  The hands found a thick bible on a small shelf within.  Then they opened the weighty book to Romans before setting it down.  He looked around the empty church, then down at the bible.  Then he stepped away from the pulpit into a back room.  He kneeled down low, and began to pray.


    The sound of people trickled in through the door.  Warm greetings and laughter wafted over the man.  A tingling sensation washed across the back of his neck.  He stood and left the small room, walking to the pulpit and smiling at the congregation.  People of every nation, tongue, and cyber-affiliation were seated there.


    A feeling of joy rose up from within, settling in the man¡¯s chest.  He raised a hand out to his congregation and opened his mouth.  Then suddenly, the VR stream was interrupted and the department store came back into view.  The man¡¯s phone was ringing inside of his pocket.  He pressed a button and raised it to his ear.


    ¡°Preature?¡± a voice blurted through the earpiece.


    ¡°Yes,¡± he rumbled.


    The voice stammered back.  ¡°I want to see the pieces tonight.  Bring the crew.  I want to make sure it gets to me in one piece.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got it,¡± his voice rumbled in response and ended the call.  The department store faded to white again, and the VR sprung back to life.  A wide smile crossed his lips.

 2.2

    Darius was huddled in the dark beneath the awning of a back alley loading bay.  Fever had taken him to horrific places.  His days were composed of sleep, and his dreams were only of his father, fearfully falling through a black void, but never hitting the ground. At times, Darius was convinced that he could see his father¡¯s mouth moving as though speaking to him, but he could never make out the words.


    In rare moments, he would wake from the dream just long enough to separate reality from the imagination.  Even though everything within him demanded surrender to death, to hopelessness and silence; with his waking mind, Darius refused to die.


    It has been three days of fever and agony beneath the awning, drinking the slow stream of water that ran from an outdoor faucet nearby.  He finally found the strength to fight through the hallucinations and the fatigue, forcing himself out of the alley for the first time.


    His horrific visage drew all of the wrong attention, but the iridescent scorch marks on his chrome and the broken blistered swollen flesh left people disgusted enough to avoid him, and uninterested enough not to bother scavenging him.  He simply wasn¡¯t worth anyone¡¯s time.  He dug through bags of trash, finding old blankets and clothing to cover himself.  It wasn¡¯t long before nobody bothered looking at him anymore.


    He had always wanted to see the bright lights of SOLA, and the many sights that he¡¯d always marveled at on TV.  He hadn¡¯t known that of the eight million inhabitants of the city, three million were homeless.  He had joined the ranks of those least fortunate, and no help was coming.  So yes, he got to see the neon, and the people.  However, he knew now that it was only a facade.  SOLA was a spectacle to behold, but its core festered.


    He watched people walk past him to the restaurant down the street.  He could smell the food.  It wasn¡¯t fresh, like he¡¯d known.  He rested painfully against a concrete wall.  The lights fractured in his vision, blurred between his swollen eyelids.  He feels a tightening in his gut.  His stomach had been empty since his last day in luxury.  He knew it¡¯s hunger, he knew he was getting weaker, but he had no desire to eat.  Fighting the cascading waves of pain was all that mattered to him now.


    His chrome spine was framed by a spider web of deep purple lines of infected tissue.  Every place where flesh met metal was red with inflammation, but at least he could move now.  Whatever Geracht had done, caused the system to boot in safe mode.  Darius had standard motion, but no additional features, and everything only worked some of the time.


    It¡¯s been two days since he lost the will to cry, and one day since he¡¯d hit the acceptance stage of grief.  He didn¡¯t grieve for his father as much as he¡¯d expected.  The man was never around.  The grief was more selfishly tied to losing everything he had ever known.  This world of loss and poverty is one that he had never seen before.  Sure, he¡¯d watched Armored Expedite, but it was about the glorious action of battle through the lense of SOLA¡¯s bravest souls.  It never showed the true terror of being destitute, or the exhaustion of living in chronic pain in a gutter.


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    Now, he sat awkwardly, trying to position himself in a way that made the pain even mildly bearable.  However, there was no hope of that now. It had gone too long without healing.  It burned ever further into his flesh.  He barely had the energy to move.


    He drew another agonizing breath, and trids to lean forward to stand.  An acrid tinge reached his nose and he felt a sudden dread.  The acid rains are coming.  He remembered it from his childhood.  It had happened only once at his home.  It was a smell that he¡¯d never forget, and a vision that remained in his mind.  That thick glossy mess covering everything.  It was ashen as it fell, and coated everything as the alkaline sprinklers fired to attempt to counter the damage.


    Now, the tawny smell of it wafted toward him in the air.  Other huddled figures found their coverings and their safe spaces.  He looked back, to see that his awning was already overly packed with people.  They gave him looks of warning to stay away.  He turned from them, pushing forward through every ounce of resistance that his body forced upon him.


    He felt a sudden numbness in his left cheek.  His metallic left arm stopped moving, locking in place at an awkward angle.  His left eye shifted to an upturned position and flickered off.  His flesh was so weak.  It refused to obey, but he commanded it anyway.  He fought to overcome every last whisper of death.  Every signal of the inevitable drove him to push harder.  Every ounce of his strength poured unfettered into his attempt to get to some kind of shelter.


    He crumbled against a concrete wall in a thin firestained alley.  Again he commanded his body, but this time it didn''t respond.  Overcome with pain, he lay on the ground with his back to the wall, and waited for the burning rain to come down.  It would cover him and seep into his wounds.  Wrap him in a layer of smokey grime.  It would find its way into his nose, his mouth, and it would choke him.  He would die, unloved, alone, and forgotten.


    A single thin milky drop struck the ground an arm¡¯s reach from Darius''s face.  The smell of it trickled toward him and quickly overwhelmed his senses.


    Acceptance¡­ He thought.  Time to accept the inevitable.


    He had fought to survive.  Harder than he¡¯d fought for anything before.  He had refused to die, but SOLA wouldn¡¯t accept that refusal.  It is the boot, and he is the ant.  What right does an ant have to refuse the will of something so much greater?


    A shadow was cast over his face as someone stood in the wavering glow of a streetlight nearby.  The shadow expanded wide with a loud slapping sound.  The cool rough texture of a tarp landed over Darius''s face.  Then the tarp was secured to the wall with some sort of adhesive gum, lifted off of him, and stretched over like a lean-to.  His right eye adjusted to the change in light and he saw the face of a little girl.  She couldn¡¯t be more than seven years old.  He blinked painfully. He could tell that she had a hard time looking at him in his state, but when she did make eye contact, he saw kindness there.

 2.3

    ¡°You¡¯ll be safe now,¡±  she said, and hushed him as a mother does to her baby.  New tears began to swell in his eyes.  There is warmth here.  A genuine kind of selfless love that he had never experienced before.  This is humanity.  Tears fell over his cheek in hot streams from his eyes, but this time they didn¡¯t flow from pain.  They sprung from a new place of hope.


    He slept beneath the tarp as the foul rains poured.  It covered everything, enrobing all surfaces.  It was a byproduct of the eruption that broke the sky, and shattered the west.


    He dreamt that his mother was with him, running her fingers through his hair.  It came to him from a deep place.  A rising sense of the love she held for him in those early days before memory really began.  His tears cooled and began to dry against his skin.  He heard her voice singing softly.  ¡°My sweet Darius.¡±


    Then light began to break into the dream and his mother faded.  He tried to hold onto the moment, yearning to make the dream last just one more second, but it was too late.  The reeking smell had found its way to his nostrils and sparked his brain to fresh alertness.


    Darius opened his eyes.  Both of them were working again.  His left arm was functioning as well.  The little girl moved towards him from across the lean-to and held a plastic bottle of water out to him.  He drank deeply, and sat up with a little less pain than he¡¯d felt before.  She offered him the scavenged remains of a bag of sour cream and onion chips.


    He looked at the girl through misty eyes and smiled with all of the gratitude he could express.  A lightness swelled in his heart as a spark of energy fired through his flesh.  If he could just fight against death a little longer, maybe he could find contentment here like she had.


    The sound of the acid rain continued to peck thinly at the tarp above them.  He looked at the face of the girl.  He saw her strength.  Although she had a hard time looking at his bloated visage, she had become bold enough to try.


    His voice rasped out of him,  ¡°I would have died.  How do I thank you?¡±


    She smiled and shook her head, ¡°You don¡¯t have to.¡±


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    ¡°I¡¯m sorry if I look scary to you.¡±


    ¡°Your face is scary, but you have the eyes of a good person.  That¡¯s why I helped,¡± she spoke plainly.


    ¡°I had a dream about my mother.  She¡¯s been dead since I was two.¡±


    ¡°Mine died when I was five.  She taught me everything I know.¡±


    ¡°She taught you to help strangers?¡±


    ¡°No, but she did teach me that good people need help more than bad people,¡±  she laughed.


    He laughed back, and was struck with a wave of dizziness.  He forgot what they were talking about.  ¡°I had a dream about my mother¡­.¡± he repeated drowsily.


    He began to feel faint and rested his head against the cold concrete wall.  His eyes became heavy.  Then he drifted off into sleep once more.


    When he awoke, the hazy glow of daylight had found its way into the alley and through the open side of the tarp.  A layer of slick scum rested on every surface, adding to the slow degradation of the city.  The girl was gone, milky pools of acid had formed where her feet had fallen on her way out of the alley and off into the city.  The remaining chips and water had been laid against the wall, where cloudy drips had begun to work their way into the tarp.  Darius looked back out of the lean-to, realizing that the girl had no plans to return.


    Selecting some plastic bags from the trash nearby, he wrapped his bare feet to protect them against the searing mess.  Stopping a moment, he looked up at the vermilion sky as the clouds rolled in against the sun.  He watched it, feeling a calm contentment.  The colors blended and shifted into fuschia, and then to a dusty purple as the summer heat pressed its way into the streets and alleys.


    Darius''s pain was still very present to him.  His body was still broken, but he was alive.  He breathed a deep breath inward, feeling the remaining coolness of the damp morning air.  The hanging stench held no sway in this moment.  Instead, he felt the thrill of life drawing into him and rooting itself there.  Against all odds, he had survived the night.


    Darker clouds swept in across the sun, breaking open to shower the city below in something much closer to clean water.


    The sky was now dark again.  Darius looked down at the alleyway.  The depths of sensation from his dreams resonated sharply within him.  The endless silent fall of his father, the loving kindness of his mother, and he was somewhere in between.


    After tightening the bags around his feet, Darius looked ahead and walked into the street.

 2.4

    Preature checked his pistols and holstered them beneath his trenchcoat.  He stood at a table bearing three open armored briefcases.  Each one contained top tier pre-war cybernetic parts in mint condition.


    The room was small.  It was once a manager¡¯s office, but now it acted as an armory.


    CURL stepped into the room, her hair flowing from purple to teal in a perfect cascading wave.  The other side of her head was shaved clean to show off her neural ports and a tattoo of a circuit board.  Her eyes glowed green, layered with darkly edged concentric circles.  Her light brown skin was lined with the perfect scars of a variety of street surgeries.  She wore a form-fitting pocketed bodysuit that transitioned its pattern as she willed it.  Entering the room, it shifted from purple checkers to the same bespeckled pattern as the floor tiles.


    Atop the suit, she wore a long jacket made of transparent rubber.  She drew her hand from the pocket and rested it on one of the suitcases.


    ¡°This delivery shouldn¡¯t be too bad,¡±  she said with a light rasp in her voice.


    ¡°We can never assume that,¡±  Preature rumbled in response.


    ¡°I just mean that people will be indoors after the acid rain.  There might not be as much risk in transit.¡±  She opened a cabinet on the wall, and collected some equipment.  She took a stack of pistol clips and magnetically binded them to her sides.


    ¡°Even so, this is pristine merch.  On the best of days, it¡¯s dangerous to be around.¡±


    Leary strode into the room with his custom heavy submachine gun in hand.  ¡°I¡¯m low.¡±  He said  in a tense tone.  The others knew that he was talking about his meds.  He had been a P-Sec longer than most ever get to be, having outlived every one of his squadmates over the years.  Yet he was worn down.  Decades of this work had left him entirely dependent on drugs to endure.


    ¡°We need to make a stop on the way back,¡±  he said anxiously.


    Preature nodded.  ¡°We will.¡±  He leaned back to peek around Leary.  ¡°Is Tinker ready?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s already in the IFV.  Been ready for takeoff for a while now.¡±  Leary looked back into the other room.  ¡°He¡¯s nervous about this one.¡±


    ¡°Yeah.  Me too.¡±  Preature clipped some EMP grenades onto his belt, locked fresh magazines into his pistols, and slid them to rest in the sleeve holsters of his coat.  ¡°But I always am.¡±


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    The three finished arming themselves and secured the armored briefcases before heading up to the IFV-24 on the roof.  The vehicle had once been used by SOLA-Med, but was procured by Preature and his comrades after its inhabitants had been lost in the outskirts.  Normally, this kind of vehicle would be so protected by hacking countermeasures that nobody would have been able to bend it to their will.  However, CURL was good at what she did, and Preature knew his way around tech.  The IFV had been cleaned and modified to be as stealthy as possible.  It made their work much safer, and allowed them to deal their wares much faster.  It also made Preature one of the most expensive Vens in the city.


    Tinker sat in the driver¡¯s seat.  He was visibly on edge, teeth chewing his lower lip.  He was a skilled medic, and the latest addition to Preature¡¯s team.  His hair was a high top fade with a short lined beard.  He wore a red and black armored medical suit, loaded with the best med gear he could afford.  He tapped impatiently on the dashboard.


    ¡°Hey Tinker!¡±  Preature shouted.  ¡°Breathe!¡±


    Tinker looked at him sharply.


    ¡°We¡¯ll all be much safer if you breathe,¡±  he elaborated in a calm tone.  ¡°You bring more tension into this deal, and someone gets hurt.¡±  He laid his thick hand on Tinker¡¯s shoulder to reassure him.  ¡°We¡¯ve all got each other¡¯s backs here.  Just like every time before.¡±


    Tinker nodded and let out a breath.  He managed a light smile back at Preature, then started the IFV-24 as the team hopped aboard.


    The IFV rose from the rooftop and into the sky.  Tinker glanced over to Preature next to him.  ¡°This is a big one.¡±


    ¡°Yes, it is.¡±  Preature¡¯s eyes were obscured by his silver shades.


    ¡°Are you sure this guy won¡¯t try to cause trouble?¡±  Tinker was calmer with Preature next to him.  He respected Preature, and trusted his instincts.


    ¡°He won¡¯t.  He asked for you all to come.  He knows better than to ask for that if he was planning an ambush.¡±  Preature brushed his hand over his beard to smooth it down.  He rested an arm on Tinker¡¯s chair as he turned to speak to his colleagues behind.


    ¡°Leary, be ready and out of sight.  Take a sniper post and leave the submachine gun in a close range pickup spot in case you need to take up arms with us.¡±  Then he looked at CURL.  ¡°The second this dude shows up, I want you to do your thing.  Scan him and get a handle on what cybernetics he¡¯s sporting.  Only hack him solid if he makes a wrong move.¡±


    He turned to the front again and took his arm off Tinker¡¯s chair. ¡°Tinker.  I hope we don¡¯t need your help, but if we do, I have all the faith in the world that you¡¯re the man for the job.¡±  A small smile graced Tinker¡¯s face.


    The IFV glided quietly above the city traffic, blending with the dark of night.  A low hum was the only sound it emitted.  CURL gazed out the window at buildings passing beneath.  It became a neon blur as her eyes glazed over in thought.  Several moments later, the IFV slowed to a near stop on a tall rooftop, door sliding open, allowing Leary to jump out.  Sniper¡¯s rifle strapped to his back, and SMG in hand, he landed softly as his cybernetic legs absorbed the impact.  He immediately stowed the SMG, firing a zip line from the edge of this roof to another one ten stories below.  Then he climbed an antenna and peered through his scope, securing the rifle along the structure¡¯s frame.  The IFV door glided closed again.

 2.5

    CURL tightened her grip on a roof handle.  The IFV moved forward another moment before coming to a complete stop on the rooftop below, and opening its doors again.  Preature, CURL, and Tinker stepped out, each one taking an armored case from the IFVs secure storage.  Preature tied a cloth ribbon to a bolt nearby, giving Leary a view of wind direction and strength from his post.


    A moment later, the hush of an IFV-29 was heard approaching from the east.  Preature watched it arrive and settle before the doors opened.  Leary peered through his scope, eyes tracking every person present in the deal.


    Six heavily armed P-Sec officers funneled out of the vehicle before the client, Physt, stepped out.  He was a collector of valuable merchandise, trading it for information in the upper echelons of the corporate world. He was a true native to the Beaverville suburbs, and he looked it.  His breath was shallow, the adrenaline of the moment sitting on the edge of his nerves.  Preature watched him through mirrorshaded eyes.  Physt never attended a deal.  He was an anxious person, and Preature wanted to set that anxiety to ease.


    CURL¡¯s eyes went still behind her shades as her mind worked to hack into Physt¡¯s cybernetics.  It took an inordinately long time to backdoor through his security suite, but she was able to get in.  She was cloaked in his systems, but there was no guarantee.  She waited, watching for any sign of detection.  If anyone made a wrong move, she was ready to take control of his cybernetics, paralyzing him on the spot.


    Tinker leaned over to take the case from CURL¡¯s hand as it began to go slack amidst her focus on the hack.  He stood behind Preature¡¯s left shoulder, barely able to peek around the man¡¯s wide frame.


    Preature smiled at Physt.  ¡°Chilled?¡± he said, shifting his gaze over the P-Sec officers that flanked nearby.


    Physt grinned nervously, and nodded.  ¡°Chilled.¡±  A shaky breath punctuated the statement.


    ¡°Good.¡±  Preature replied.  He lifted his phone.  ¡°Ready?¡± he asked.


    Physt fumbled in his pocket to get his phone.  ¡°Yeah, so.  I uh, I send you the money as you hand the merch to my people, yes?¡±


    ¡°Yep.  As agreed.¡±  Preature was stoic.  His cybernetic eyes captured every fraction of movement of the seven people before him.  A glint of red showed in a P-Sec¡¯s eye, a targeting reticule locking onto CURL.  Preature shifted his eyes onto this one.  ¡°Slow down, big fella.  We¡¯ve got eyes, too.¡±  Leary turned on a laser sight, just for a second.  Long enough for the P-Sec to see that it was aimed at his crotch.  ¡°Bad way to go,¡± Preature smiled through metal teeth.  ¡°It¡¯s a long and painful bleed.¡±


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    ¡°He¡­ hey hey hey,¡± Physt gestured a shaky hand to the P-Sec in question, a glint of red flashed off in his eyes.  The reticule was gone.  ¡°Yeah, look.  It¡¯s just a big deal is all.  Let¡¯s get off on the right foot here.  How about, as a gesture of good will, I send the money before you hand over the merch?¡±


    ¡°No.  We do it as I said,¡±  Preature corrected unwaveringly.  Physt nodded back, with his mouth hanging open.  His nerves on the absolute edge.


    ¡°Yeah, uh.  Let¡¯s do it.¡±  He told three of his people to step up to Preature, and Tinker.  One of the remaining P-Secs watched CURL, and the other remaining two scanned the neighboring rooftops for Leary.


    The merch changed hands, and Preature¡¯s phone signaled that the money transfer had been completed.  He smiled broadly.  ¡°Nice doing business with you.¡±


    Physt sighed in relief and grabbed a vial of designer synthcoke from his pocket.  ¡°Shit, man.  Nice doing business with you!¡± He took a snuff off the back of his hand.  His eyes remained closed for a second before smoothly opening.  ¡°This was tense.¡±  He laughed.


    ¡°Call again if you want more,¡±  Preature said, turning around to head back to the IFV-24.


    ¡°Hey!¡±  Physt called.  ¡°Why do you float that old model, anyway?¡±


    ¡°Nostalgia.¡±  Preature rumbled back without stopping or turning around.  Physt nodded and turned excitedly to his P-Secs in inebriated excitement.  He hooted with joy and jumped back into his IFV-29.


    Physt and his P-Secs leave soon after.  CURL blinks back to the surface as Physt goes out of range.  Tinker smiles in relief to himself.  Leary floats down the zipline, SMG in hand and sniper rifle on his back.  His feet silently brace him as he hits the side of the building.  Then he rolls over the ledge, joining the group.


    ¡°Smooth,¡±  Leary called.


    ¡°Like clockwork,¡±  Preature says.


    They climb into the IFV-24.  Tinker set it to auto-nav back home.  CURL looked at Leary.  ¡°Why is it always the balls?¡±


    ¡°They don¡¯t always see the laser sight on their heart, but they always notice the balls.¡±  Leary pressed a button on his wrist panel to inject himself with some of his P-Sec drug concoction.  He stretched his head back.  ¡°We still good to make my stop?¡±


    ¡°Shit!  Yeah, one second,¡±  Tinker moved back to the nav panel and corrected the destination.


    ¡°Language, Tinker,¡±  Preature mumbled, his eyes closed behind his silver shades.


    ¡°Sorry,¡±  Tinker winced, taking his seat once more.  Feeling his mistakes deeply.  Taking mental notes to never make them again.

 2.6

    The IFV-24 passed down over a dark street.  Its repulsers slung remnants of acrid gunk around in a thin spatter.  This part of the city had seen the worst of the acid rain from the previous night.


    Coming to a stop, CURL, Leary, and Tinker stepped out.  A pale woman with glowing acrylic liberty spikes and purple leathers approached Leary and began to deal.


    From around a corner, Darius watched, absorbing every detail of his new world, and all the people in it.  He pulled the scrap cloth further over his head like a hood and slipped deeper behind the corner.


    CURL¡¯s eyes fluttered into focus behind her visor again.  She checked the dealer, the sleeping figure across the street¡­ but what is that?  She saw a cybernetics signature that was altogether new to her.  She infiltrated it easily.  Decades old factory level encryption is all of the protection that it had.  ¡°Must have been a really shitty RipperDoc to do that installation,¡± she thought to herself.  She scanned the tech.  Chips, eyes, brain, spine, arms, adrenals, something called a purifier, and none of it was working beyond base operational protocols.


    She jacked out, and looked around, trying to see who it was.  Darius noticed her starting to look in his direction, and he moved down the alle, but it was a very close call.


    His bagged feet squished into the malodorous browning sludge as he made his way to the end of the alley.  He was feeling tired again.  The constant ache of his body had been sapping him of energy all day, but it was still the best he had felt in a long time.


    He reached the end of the alley as it tapered off to another street.  An eerie sensation washed over him.  He suddenly felt an instinctual discomfort.  Something was wrong.  He ducked behind a pile of trash at the foot of a fire escape.


    Hoots and hollers echoed down the empty street.  A gang dressed in black and green clown suits.  He¡¯d seen something like them before on TV.  They had murdered a holo reporter that was in their territory, but this couldn¡¯t be their territory.  There were too many people here, and these guys were sadistic.  Nobody would willingly stay in one of their neighborhoods.


    Suddenly a shot rang out.  A spray of red mist erupted from the back of one of the clown¡¯s heads.  The others pointed and laughed hysterically as the body fell limp.  Cybernetic blades burst menacingly from the arms of one of the clowns and he ran toward an alley parallel to the one Darius had just left.  This clown leaped into the air with blades at the ready, and was shot through three times before landing face-first in the muck.


    A woman stepped forward, purple and teal hair cascading down one side of her head.  The other clowns licked their lips and drew firearms and blades to join the fray.  A huge dark figure stepped up next to the woman and raised heavy pistols, gunning down more of the gang.  Finally rapid staccato gunfire ripped the air and a grizzled P-Sec stepped in to mow the rest down easily.


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    Darius held his breath, and ducked lower behind the trash.  He heard their voices.


    ¡°It¡¯s a signature I¡¯ve never seen before,¡± the woman¡¯s voice reverberated loosely down the empty street.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± a voice rumbled.


    ¡°But you said the cybernetics wasn¡¯t any good.  Just running safe mode protocols,¡±  another voice said, raspy and tinged with age.


    ¡°It¡¯s still salvageable,¡±  a younger male voice spoke.  ¡°I could do it.  Not a lot of people could, but I could.¡±


    He peeked around the trash and saw the woman in the middle of the street.  She stood dead still.


    ¡°Be silent,¡±  Darius thought to himself.  ¡°Don¡¯t move.¡±  His body ache intensified in this hunched position.  His head began to feel light, faint, his left eye shuddered and rolled back into his head.  ¡°Not now!¡±  His left arm locked into place, then his right, then his spine.  He felt a tingling in his brain and his vision went to grayscale.  Words appeared, barely legible on the edge of his vision.


    ¡°[INFILTRATION DETECTED] Deploying defensive measures...¡±


    The woman in the street, still in his vision, began moving again.  ¡°They¡¯ve got ICE installed?¡± she exclaimed in surprise.  ¡°The security is aggressive.  It caught on to me pretty quickly once I¡¯d started shutting things down.¡±


    With his spine down, he was paralysed.  His right eye was locked on the street.  All he could see was her, around the edge of the box.  His legs were crumbling beneath him as his muscles lost control.  He fell against the wall, cracking his head against it.  He felt the hot flow of blood down his cheek.


    Now his locked eye could only see the corner where the grimey asphalt beneath the fire escape met the concrete of the wall, but he could hear them.  They were getting closer.


    ¡°[SYSTEM RECOVERY]  CHK_SYS¡­ 100%¡±


    ¡°[SYSTEM RECOVERY]  Booting with safe mode protocols¡­ 100%¡±


    His spine was back.  One by one, his parts came back online.  He got up painfully, and ran for the alley.  A cylinder clinked and rolled across the ground beside him.  It clicked as static charges suddenly pulsed across his metal.  He tumbled, rolling across the mucky ground.  His body ceased motion as every piece of his cybernetics shut off completely.  The words in his vision disappeared, and as everything faded to black, he saw the giant dark figure holding the pin of an EMP grenade.


    His vision now gone, he heard the group approaching him, feet squelching in the foul red.  He felt two firm and gigantic hands reach under his body and lift him up.


    ¡°Tinker, get a sedative, we¡¯ve got 49 seconds left on the EMP before he boots back up,¡±  a voice rumbled.


    He felt a pinch in his neck, and then¡­ nothing.

 3.0 - Synthesis

    A tight spider web of cracks tapered a sheet of ballistic glass outward.  A dried brown smear of blood could be seen on the inside of the outstretched curve as it funneled out of the 77th story penthouse office to the world outside.  This is where Gradius Byun began his journey into death.


    Geracht stood at the office door, arms crossed over his massive borg chest.  He was exactly twenty-nine feet from the workers that he was monitoring.  He stood firm, unmoving and unflinching.


    His body was a wide frame of metal parts.  The only thing in him that was still human, was his brain.  Even that had been heavily modified, and as time progressed he had begun to realize that something important was missing.  He just couldn¡¯t remember what that something was.


    He watched as the workers prepared their tools at the broken window.  The broken window...  It was a job well done.  He could view it all again if he wanted to.  The way Gradius died.  It was recorded in his memory, as is every moment of every day since he¡¯d had his cybernetic eyes tied to his central memory core.  However, to him, it wasn¡¯t really worth remembering.  It was just another task, on just another day.  About as meaningful a memory to recall as picking your teeth or scratching an itch.


    He watched the workers in absolute silence. No breath.  No heartbeat.  No twitch of the nerves.  He watched.  Unblinking.  Observing.


    The workers began to strip the weather seals from the glass.  Their discomfort was mounting with each moment as the borg watched.  A platform had been set up outside of the window.  Workers on both sides placed supports along the top and bottom of the pane.  Then wrapped each side with heavy adhesive sheeting to hold it all together.  The weight of the glass was immense, requiring the assistance of a small roof-mounted crane to lift it away.


    Hours passed, and still the borg watched them, unshifting.  As the workers guided the new pane of glass into place, one of the men noticed that the borg had moved forward.  The man was so shocked that he slipped and was caught by his tether.  The rest of the workers looked back at the borg, noticing that he was closer, and none of them had seen him move.


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    Geracht watched from his new vantage point.  His silent observation continued.  He watched as the man was pulled up by his tether and given a moment to sit and collect himself again.  Geracht saw their frailty.  He felt their fear.


    Eventually, the team completed their work.  A supervisor approached the borg with a phone.  ¡°I need a signature,¡±  he said slowly, deliberately.


    Geracht¡¯s eyes rotated downward to look at the man.  Then he took the phone and confirmed the completion of the work with his credentials.


    ¡°Thanks,¡±  the man said, swallowing hard.


    Geracht¡¯s mouth shifted lightly, then opened.  ¡°So frail,¡± he said softly.


    ¡°The glass?¡± the man gritted his teeth in a moment of cringing doubt.


    ¡°You.¡±  Geracht responded.


    The man was alone with Geracht now.  His team had already begun their ascent on the platform towards the roof.  He looked up at Geracht, like a toddler to a bull.


    ¡°So frail.¡±  Geracht caressed the man¡¯s cheek with a cold steel hand.  The man winced at the touch, his pants beginning to soak through as he wet himself.


    Geracht rested his hand on the man¡¯s head, splaying his fingers to wrap around its top.  The span of his grasp stretched over both of the man¡¯s ears.  The pressure of the fingers built along the sides of his scalp.


    Tears of pain and fear collected in the corners of the man¡¯s eyes.  Geracht watched intently, staring deeply into them.


    ¡°I have calculated the density of your skull.¡±  Geracht says in a gentle tone.  ¡°One more ounce of pressure would crush it like an egg.¡±  Geracht slid his fingers up the man¡¯s head, tearing strands of hair and skin as his fingers clamped together at the peak.  ¡°So frail.¡±


    A neuron fired from some human place in Geracht¡¯s brain.  It had been so long since he¡¯d felt something like it.  Like¡­ sympathy.  Geracht pulled his hand away from the man, and softened his stance and then walked away.


    The man simply watched, holding his breath.  He stood for ten minutes or more, shock holding him in place.  The urine in his pants had gone cold.  He looks down at the wet spot.  Then he reached up to his head and felt the slick lines where the fingers scraped along his scalp. There was blood there, in his hair.  His breath wavered, shaken.  He took a number of stiff steps toward the elevator.  Shuddering and glassy eyed, he got into the elevator and left.

 3.1

    ¡°This is some real new tech.  I¡¯ve never seen anything like it.¡±  Tinker says with tempered excitement.  ¡°I mean¡­  who is this guy?  And why was he living in the street?¡±


    Darius was laid out on a medical table, still sedated.  CURL leaned on the wall, watching as Tinker plied his trade.


    ¡°They didn¡¯t finish the work.  I can still see the isotope markings from where they were going to install more hardware.  Not to mention that this guy has been walking around for days with this infection.  Choomba should be dead.¡±  Tinker looked at CURL.  She was avoiding eye contact.  ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how I feel about harvesting him like this.¡±  Her arms were crossed.  She was chewing her lower lip.  ¡°Seems wrong.  He¡¯s still alive.  We should be trying to fix him.¡±


    Tinker nodded in agreement.  ¡°To be fair, Preach never said to harvest.  He said to appraise.¡±


    ¡°You know what I mean,¡± CURL shifted her stance to have her weight on the other foot.  ¡°There are bigger questions about this kid than the monetary value of his hardware.¡±


    ¡°Look.  I hear you.  And, I don¡¯t think Preach meant it that way.  I think he just wants to find out where this kid came from, like the rest of us.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said weakly, unconvinced.


    Tinker held a probe, pushing it along the bleeding edge of Darius''s metal shoulder.  He was fishing for a feedback conductor.  It was a component that came with every piece of cybernetics, allowing it to interface with the body¡¯s nervous system.  However, none of these parts seemed to have one.


    ¡°It makes no sense,¡±  Tinker mumbled.  ¡°CURL, check for a registry file again.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve done it five times!  There isn¡¯t one!¡±  She gritted her teeth now, eyeing the x-ray on the light screen. ¡°No feedback conductors.  No registry.  The only thing we know for sure is that this wasn¡¯t the hack job it appeared to be.  He¡¯s corporate.  And his install wasn¡¯t completed.¡±


    Tinker¡¯s expression went blank, and he nodded faintly.  ¡°Not completed, so not at equilibrium.  New tech¡­  What if it doesn¡¯t need feedback conductors?¡±


    CURL¡¯s gaze sharpened on him. ¡°Then how¡­?¡±


    ¡°The spine houses his natural nervous system, but it also manages it.  It has nodes in his brain and across a number of his organs.  This setup could do a full vital diagnostic on him and control his autonomic bodily functions¡­ make them more efficient!¡±  He moved to the light screen and started to write on it in dry-erase marker.  ¡°The spine is his nervous system, it controls both the machine parts and the human parts.  Get it?¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡±  CURL shook her head, furrowing her brow. ¡°That explains nothing.¡±


    ¡°When this setup is running as designed, it doesn¡¯t need to interface with the nervous system, it IS the nervous system.  I can only imagine what those missing parts would have done.  Either way, he¡¯s got something special here.¡±


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    ¡°So¡­ what¡¯s your valuation, then?¡±  Preature stood at the doorway.


    ¡°He¡¯s priceless.¡±  Tinker responded.  ¡°He has full deliberate control over meat and metal.  This stuff hasn¡¯t even been rumored to actually exist.  This tech, working at a fraction of its capacity,  has kept him alive through the worst case of sepsis I¡¯ve ever seen.  Look, I don¡¯t want to get ahead of myself here, but this could give humanity a chance at immortality.¡±


    Preature gave a single nod and removed his mirrorshades.  He entered the room and looked down at Darius.


    ¡°He¡¯s not for sale,¡±  Preature rumbled quietly.


    Tinker and CURL watched Preature as he stood over Darius.  There was something in his eyes that they had never seen before.  Some acknowledgement, or was it validation?


    ¡°Well...¡±  Tinker started.  ¡°These cybernetics, uh, they die with him.  It¡¯s proprietary tech.  Very advanced.  It¡¯s DNA encoded, it can¡¯t be reset without the proper software to access it.  It will only work for him.  It¡¯s no good to anyone else.  It¡¯s burned out pretty badly.  It¡¯s a miracle that he¡¯s even able to use it in safe mode.¡±


    ¡°A miracle,¡±  Preature mumbled, looking at Darius''s burnt and swollen face.  ¡°Tinker, do everything in your power to heal him and get his tech running as designed.¡±


    ¡°He needs a SOLA-Med, not just a medic,¡±  Tinker said cautiously, watching Preature¡¯s reaction.


    Preature laughed softly to himself.  ¡°Good thing SOLA-Med is here, then.¡±


    Tinker looked confused, but CURL nodded in acknowledgement.  ¡°I¡¯ll get your stuff,¡±  she said.


    She returned shortly after with a SOLA-Med kit.


    ¡°You?¡±  Tinker squinted at Preature.


    ¡°Yeah,¡±  Preature responded.  ¡°Long time ago.¡±


    Preature opened his kit and prepared his tools in a way that only years of experience could teach.  ¡°They dropped me.  Layoffs.  However, what I¡¯d learned there, brought me my fortune.  I took notes on every scene I was at.¡±  He moved to the sink and began to scrub up.  ¡°It¡¯s amazing the kinds of places Execs and Vens find themselves bleeding to death. In fact, that¡¯s how I¡¯d learned about the bonanza of boats.  An old cargo vessel off the coast of Newfoundland, GPS still working, crew all dead.  I¡¯d gotten to it before anyone else had.  The rest is history.¡±


    Tinker nodded with an emphatic smile.  ¡°Damn!  SOLA-Med!¡±


    ¡°Language!¡±  Preature scolded, then allowed his own smile to widen on his face.  ¡°It is pretty damn cool though.¡±


    The team got to work, injecting rapid heal cells into Darius''s most infected areas.  Tinker worked on the spine, finding that as the swelling reduced, the cybernetics became more responsive.  Then he got CURL to start interfacing with the nodes in the right brain.  Some damage in there had caused the hardware on the left side of the body to lose connection with the system.


    Preature was focused on Darius''s face, trying to reduce the scarring with a concoction of trauma drugs and anti-inflammatory balms.


    ¡°Hey, there¡¯s something strange in the code,¡±  CURL said, eyes moving back and forth over the data on her visor.  ¡°Encrypted files.  One in each of the pieces of cybernetics, each different.  I haven¡¯t been able to decrypt, but the brain nodes contain a README including some text about design files for something called CellarDoor.  I think these files have been partitioned from a larger one and stored within the parts.  Somebody was smuggling them in this kid¡¯s cybernetics.  He¡¯s a mule.¡±


    Preature and Tinker stopped what they¡¯re doing and looked up at CURL with wild amazement.


    ¡°You mean to say, the design files for this tech are in our hands right now?¡±  Preature asked in bewilderment.


    ¡°Encrypted, incomplete, but maybe.  I suspect that there are more files in the parts that didn¡¯t get installed,¡±  CURL insisted.


    ¡°Then we need to find out where these parts are from,¡±  Preature said looking thoughtfully down at Darius.

 3.2

    A corporate surgeon stood before Del Peck, giving him an update on the status of the new cybernetics that had been recovered from the operating suite.


    ¡°Geracht has responded well to the new enhancements of his brain and core.  That was to be expected.  His borg physiology makes him most compatible, and able to bypass the DNA encoding on the parts.  The cybernetics parts appear to be working, though their purpose is still somewhat a mystery.  Geracht has expressed feelings of exhilaration and vitality since their install.  As suspected, they seem to be having some effect on his brain,¡± the surgeon paused for a moment.


    ¡°But they¡¯re missing some central component.  I expect that the spine is needed to make it all function properly.  We tried to replicate what the previous team had been doing with the Byun boy.  We used all of the left-over pieces as you¡¯d requested.¡±  A curious expression expanded on the surgeon¡¯s creased face.  ¡°Forgive me for asking, but it may help our efforts to know more.  Why did you want to use those particular pieces, sir?¡±


    Del, leaned back in the leather chair behind the mahogany desk that had once belonged to Gradius Byun.  He had been enjoying the view through the newly replaced window, when the surgeon arrived.  He had continued to do so, until this last question was asked.  Turning around in the chair, Del looked the man in the eye.  ¡°Is that all, doctor?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± the surgeon felt his boldness deflate within him.  ¡°Um.  I¡¯ll be on my way.¡±  He turned and left the office hurriedly.


    Del stood and walked to the window.  The ashen core of the ground zero clean up efforts was now in full view after all these years.  The jutting remains of skyscrapers along the perimeter had now been demolished and pushed out to sea.  However, there was still much work to be done, and barely enough budget to push it through.  Del had no envy for those in charge of these efforts.  He also had no pity for them.


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    Every event was an opportunity.  Every error, every cataclysm, and every setback was a gift.  Such events made for a truer reflection of the self than any mirror.  They showed people who they really were inside.  Del had long ago learned the power of these opportunities.  That is how he and Gradius had come to build this company in the first place.  Opportunity from chaos.


    He looked to the spot where the NAU towers had once been.  Such a waste, but also¡­ An open door.  NAU had weathered much of the rage that followed the bombing.  They hadn¡¯t been allowed to operate within the city as they once had.  This left them open to new friendships.


    Gradius had wanted to focus his efforts on low cost cybernetics improvements that would increase the quality of life for all.  Del had insisted on another venture entirely.  One that would help NAU to crush Consortium and become the true corporate world power.


    After Donna¡¯s passing, Gradius fell in line with the plan, abandoning his cybernetics research.  Or so Del had thought.  In truth, Gradius had continued his cybernetics work privately.


    What was Gradius thinking in those last days?  What drove him to such stupidity?


    Del thought over the known facts.


    Gradius signed his portion of SaeSyn ownership over to Del.  He deleted all project files, including the work for NAU and every mention of the old cybernetics R&D.  Then he installed his secretly developed prototype parts into his own son.  The arms that he¡¯d used¡­


    Del set his jaw askew.  Everything was gone.  NAU was awaiting a demonstration of CellarDoor, and he had nothing to show them.  The company would fold if he didn¡¯t do something.  A knot in his gut tugged at him.  There was something he was missing, and it involved the kid.


    He pulled his phone from a pocket and tapped the screen before raising it to his ear.  ¡°When Geracht is ready, I want him and the team to find the Byun boy.  He is expendable, but the cybernetics must remain unharmed.¡±

 3.3

    Darius opened his eyes wide.  His vision achieved perfect clarity, focusing on the speckled and water-stained fiberglass ceiling tiles.  He shot up to a seated position on the makeshift bed.  It was unusually firm beneath him.  He splayed his metallic fingers over the sheet, feeling a solid surface below.  Looking around, he saw cubicle walls surrounding him, and the tops of other cubicles beyond.


    He slipped down, his bare feet patting softly on the cool floor.  He sank downward to a crouching position and quieted his breathing, listening for anyone that might be nearby.  Leaning his back to the makeshift bed, he nearly fell through the sheet.  Realizing that it was the open end of an office desk, he slid under and covered the opening with the hanging sheet once more.


    Darius raised his hands before him, and for the first time, noticed that the pain was almost entirely gone.  Aside from some soreness in his spine and legs, he was feeling unexpectedly good.  He looked down to see that he was wearing a thin hospital gown, open at the back.  He rolled the sleeve over his shoulder to see only a mild gradient of pink where his flesh met metal.  Thoughts and theories raced through his mind as he tried to determine where he was and how he had healed so quickly.  How long has it been?


    He heard a rumbling voice from off in the distance, and a memory raced back to him.  ¡°I was shot!¡± he thought, then he looked over his body to see if he was hurt.  Sensing his thoughts, the system populated a diagnostic readout on his vision.


    ¡°[SYSTEM STATUS]  Operational¡±


    ¡°[BODY EQUILIBRIUM]  5%, ability slot enabled¡±


    ¡°[VITALS] 98% Normal¡­ Heart rate over baseline¡­¡±


    ¡°[DISPLAY MEDIC LOG - PRIOR 24 HOURS]¡±


    ¡°[TREATMENT SUMMARY] System boot bioscan results: severe septic infection found - safe mode treatment detected - blood cleansing has removed infection agents - blood toxicity is currently 0.075%¡±


    ¡°[MEDICAL ALERT] Severe bodily trauma has been treated by an external source.  Drugs used...¡±


    ¡°Enough!¡±  Darius thought to himself, and the display cleared.


    Darius slipped out from beneath the desk and stood up.  He felt slight pressure in his spine, and some pain in his legs.  He walked with a little difficulty but pushed himself past it.  The air was cold, flowing through the back of the hospital gown as he took a step forward.


    ¡°I don¡¯t mind saying, that¡¯s a nice ass,¡±  Leary was peeking over the cubicle wall.  His gray beard was fringed with light brown and tinged with the yellow of cigarette smoke.  An impish grin set upon his face as a resting expression.  A glimmer of mirth shone in the light blue of his eyes.  His freckled skin was flecked with scars and other markings, telling a collection of stories that he had long forgotten.


    Darius was startled, and nearly fell over as he turned to look at Leary.


    ¡°I¡¯m fucking with you,¡±  Leary said dryly, offering a hand to shake over the short wall.  ¡°I¡¯m Leary.  I¡¯m not the one that took you down.  That was Preature.  I would have shot you, but he saw you first and wisely used EMP,¡±  He lighted a cigarette.  ¡°I would have just killed you, but what can I say?  I¡¯m glad you¡¯re alive.¡±


    Darius analyzed Leary¡¯s face.  ¡°I¡¯m Darius. And uh, can I have some pants?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.  This place used to be a department store in the 90s.  We found some clothes in storage that were your size.  They¡¯re a little outdated, though.  They¡¯re in the top drawer of the desk, er, bed.  I¡¯ll go tell the others you¡¯re awake,¡±  Leary disappeared behind the wall, and his footsteps could be heard moving away.


    Darius found the clothes, and put them on.  Acid washed blue jeans, a green plaid shirt, underwear, socks, and some sneakers.


    ¡°You decent?¡±  A female voice calls from nearby.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said with hesitation, looking for her.  Without meaning to do so, his eyes flickered to an infrared view, and he saw her approaching through the wall.  The view flicked back to normal before she arrived.


    ¡°Darius, right?  Leary told me.  I¡¯m CURL,¡± she gripped his hand and gave it an odd mixture of a shake and a slap.  ¡°How do you feel?¡±


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    ¡°Mostly better.  My back and legs are sore, though.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Tinker said you¡¯d had some trauma to your spinal cord.  It might not heal right,¡±  She looked him up and down.  ¡°You sure you should be standing right now?¡±


    Darius quickly moved to sit on the desk-bed once again.  CURL laughed.  ¡°Don¡¯t worry.  That spine of yours has taken it upon itself to lock two of the vertebrae as part of the healing process.  That¡¯s some crazy hardware you¡¯re sporting.  It¡¯s lucky we found you before someone else did.¡±  She brushed a strand of hair away from her face and awkwardly raised an eyebrow.  ¡°Where did that stuff come from anyway?¡±


    Darius felt his muscles firm up as his face hardened towards her.


    ¡°CURL!  The boy just woke up!  Give him a minute to gain his wits!¡±  Leary shouted before vaulting over the cubicle wall to sit next to Darius.  He wrapped an arm around Darius''s shoulders and shot CURL a scowl.  ¡°Now leave my friend alone.  He¡¯s been through enough without having to endure your chatter, too.¡±


    CURL fired a middle finger back at Leary.  ¡°Either way, boss man is going to want to talk to him,¡±  She paused and looked at Darius.  ¡°Want to meet the rest of the people that saved your life?¡±


    She grabbed his hand and pulled him from the bed.  Leary chuckled and walked with them into a hallway.  The rumbling voice from before drifted out of a room not far away.  It was brightly lit and filled with medical equipment.  Preature and Tinker were there looking at another x-ray on the light screen.


    ¡°Oy!¡±  Leary shouted.  ¡°You were talking so loud that you woke the kid.¡±  His tone was playful, slapping a hand on Darius''s shoulder.


    Preature walked up to Darius, looking into his eyes with a small flashlight, checking their dilation.  ¡°Drugs have worn off.  That¡¯s good.  We had to pump more into you than would normally be safe.  That cybernetics of yours took some time to realize we were trying to help you.  It kept filtering the meds from your blood.¡±


    ¡°Once it finished an analysis of the compounds, it finally let us help.  How you feeling?¡±  Tinker chimed in.


    ¡°Sore,¡±  Darius said in a halting confusion.


    CURL broke into the conversation,  ¡°This is Preature, the boss man.  And this is Tinker, our personal doctor.¡±


    ¡°Medic!¡±  Tinker corrected.  ¡°Although I can do anything a back alley street doctor could do.¡±  An edge of offense hung on his words.


    ¡°Look.  Thanks for your help and all, but what¡¯s going on?¡±  Darius asked, afraid to come off as being rude, but also unsure of who he was dealing with.


    Preature took a step back and slipped the flashlight into a pocket.  ¡°Kid, you¡¯ve been through the wringer.  We¡¯re trying to find out why.  That tech you¡¯re sporting is top of the line corpo engineering.  You got anything to say for yourself?¡±


    Darius looked from face to face with furrowed brows.  He considered the danger he might be in now if he told the truth, or if he didn''t.  A steeling strength formed within him, coalescing from his stubborn will to live, to spit in the face of danger.  His expression hardened to reflect this.  ¡°I¡¯m the son of Gradius Byun, CEO of SaeSyn.¡±


    ¡°Fuck!¡±  Leary shouted, then turned quickly to Preature with hands up.  ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°What do they even do?  I see the sign on the skyscraper, but they¡¯ve never actually produced anything.¡±  CURL asked.


    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t actually know.  I didn¡¯t really know my father that well, and he never talked to me about his work when he was around.¡±


    ¡°Tell us what you do know.¡±  Preature insisted.


    ¡°Well, I guess they¡¯ve been working on cybernetics,¡±  He gestured to himself.  ¡°Like this.¡±


    Tinker stepped forward.  ¡°But we found some fi...¡±  Preature laid the back of his hand heavily against Tinker¡¯s chest to stop him from continuing.  Tinker and the rest of the team realized that Preature had no intention of telling Darius about the files stored in his new chrome.


    ¡°Did your dad install this tech in you?¡±  Preature asked.


    ¡°Yeah.  From what I remember, but I don¡¯t know why.  And his business partner, Del Peck, he¡­ he told me that my dad was dead.  Then he threw me into the street.  He said something about my dad signing the company over.¡±


    ¡°Typical corpo problem solving if you ask me.  Except for the surgery, that sh-crap is new to me,¡±  Leary said, glancing at Preature to see if a nerve had been struck.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t make sense,¡±  Preature rumbled from deep in his chest.  ¡°Look, kid.  I¡¯m a Ven, and people would pay good eddies for what you¡¯ve got.  You never asked for it, but like it or not, it¡¯s a part of you.  We just happen to have learned that it¡¯s so completely part of you that it¡¯s even DNA encoded.  Nobody else could use it, but we want to know where we can get some.  Your surgery wasn¡¯t done.  There are more parts, and I want them.¡±


    ¡°Well, they¡¯d be at SaeSyn, right?  Where they put these parts on me,¡±  Darius felt threatened.


    ¡°We need to learn more about this Del guy and his management style.  The tech is probably locked up somewhere, and we¡¯ll need to find out where.  Maybe even track down some design docs,¡±  Preature spoke with his eyes locked on Darius''s, looking for any sense of recognition at the mention of documentation, or that he knew about the partitioned files stored in his body.  However, he saw nothing of the sort.  ¡°You¡¯ll be staying with us until we can figure this out.  Make yourself comfortable.  It could be a while,¡±  Preature pressed past Darius and the others, heading to the store floor where he went to experience his religious braindances.


    Leary watched to see when Preature was out of earshot before piping up,  ¡°Well shit, then.  We might as well get you drunk, you lucky git.¡±  CURL and Tinker perked up at this, following Darius and Leary out to the makeshift lounge.

 4.0 - Emphasis

    ¡°That¡¯s right, one million,¡±  Del spoke smoothly into his cell.  ¡°You find Darius Byun, and it¡¯s yours.¡±


    Preature listened on the other end of the call.  It wasn¡¯t unusual for him to get jobs such as this one.  However, it was unusual for him to feel conflicted about them, as he did now.  He thought about Del¡¯s offer, knowing how much good that money could do, and paused at the thought of Darius.  The kid that fell from the lap of luxury.  This payday could be more than anything he¡¯d get from Darius by any other means.  Who is this Del?  What¡¯s his angle?


    He bit his lower lip, then sighed, ¡°What do you want with the kid?¡±


    Del grimaced, looking out of his office window.  ¡°Based on your reputation, I¡¯d expected a more professional attitude.  What does it matter?  You¡¯d be getting paid for an easy find and deliver job.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not in the business of getting kids killed.  What do you want with him?¡±


    ¡°Simply looking for the heir of the SaeSyn.  His father recently died.  We want him back here, so he can be safe,¡±  Del spoke with little deception in his voice.  Preature walked down the hall, looking to the table where Darius had been operated on.


    ¡°How many other Vens have you contacted?¡±


    ¡°Only the best Vens will be offered such a job.¡±


    ¡°Only the best,¡±  Preature rumbled, noting the matter of fact tone that Del had used.  The same one that he¡¯d heard through this whole conversation.  ¡°I¡¯ll look for him.  I can¡¯t make any promises, but you¡¯ll be the first to know if I find him.¡±


    ¡°Of course, nice doing business with a professio...¡±  The line goes dead.  Preature had already hung up.  Del¡¯s lip curled in annoyance.  Then he dialed a new number.


    Preature pocketed the phone and stared ponderously at Darius¡¯s bloody clothes in the trash.  He thought about the money, and of Del¡¯s tone.  He seemed to be genuinely concerned, but Preature¡¯s gut told him otherwise.  A small glint of predation had trickled into Del¡¯s speech, enough to give Preature pause.


    He walked down the hall to see if anyone was still around, but saw nobody.  He then tuned his shades to the security feed and rewound it to see that the team had left with Darius.


    Del hung up a call and slid his cell back into his pocket, just as a knock rapped from his office door.


    ¡°Come in,¡± he said, voice shadowed.


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    A woman with blue-blonde hair strolled in.  Her cats-eye makeup drew full attention to her bright green cybernetic eyes.  She wore a sharp business suit, crisp and imposing.  Del squinted at her in annoyance.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have any appointments booked.  Who are you?¡±  Del strode thunderously towards her.


    ¡°The NAU doesn¡¯t need an appointment,¡± she said as she leveled her eyes to his.


    Del¡¯s expression shifted to one of appeasement.  ¡°Yes, so true.  What brings you to my office, in person?¡±


    ¡°I believe you already know that Mr. Peck.  We were promised a way to improve our storage problems with new compression tech.  CellarDoor, is the name, is it not?  We haven¡¯t received an update in a number of days.  Now we hear that your business partner has met an¡­ unfortunate end.  We want to ensure that everything is still on track.¡±  She took a seat in Del¡¯s chair and said, ¡°We want to know that you haven¡¯t let it fall through the cracks.¡±


    Del¡¯s eyes became slits,  ¡°I see.  Well, intimidation doesn¡¯t make the work happen any faster.¡±


    ¡°Oh no?  Experience has taught me otherwise.  You made us a promise Mr. Peck.  One that you¡¯ve come dangerously close to breaking.  The war still rages beneath the smiles and promises of our corporate politicians.  NeuroCybertec still stands against the Eurasian Consortium¡¯s attempts to take our nation.  Doesn¡¯t that mean anything to you?¡±


    ¡°It does,¡±  Del pursed his lips and swallowed hard.


    ¡°Good,¡±  She stood and walked to the door before turning around one last time. ¡°See that CellarDoor finds its way into our hands sooner than later.  Remember, you stand to make a lot of money from this deal,¡± and with that she left.


    Del let out a breath that he¡¯d been holding.  His mind was on the missing data.  How could Gradius have done this?  Deleting the entirety of CellarDoor?  That traitorous wretch¡­ and now the NAU was paying personal visits.


    Del rested a fist on the window glass of his office, looking over the city.  That kid was out there somewhere.  If the CellarDoor deal with the NAU falls through, at least he could salvage and reverse-engineer some of the prototype tech on the boy.  Maybe it would be enough to keep the company afloat.


    ¡°Damnit!¡±  He shouted, breath fogging the glass.  Through that fog, the neon lights of the city sparkled.  The cars became distant satellites of red and white.  The advertising blurred into mottled puddles of shifting color.  Del breathed on the glass more, expanding the blur even further.


    This is where Gradius made his descent.  The damned fool.


    Del drew cracks in the fog of his breath.  Something still bothered him about Darius¡¯s surgery.  ¡°Something doesn¡¯t add up,¡± He thought and licked his lips while pulling his phone from his pocket.


    ¡°Gene. Send the head surgeon to my office.¡±


    A moment later the man arrived, dressed in a clean lab coat and holding a tablet, ¡°You wanted to speak with me, sir?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Remind me of everything we found in that operating room.¡±


    ¡°Of course.  We¡¯d found the standard tools for cybernetics installation.  Plus the parts that hadn¡¯t been installed, and a high-speed data cable.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡±  Del rubbed his chin with a thumb and forefinger.  ¡°High-speed data cable.¡±  He waved the back of his hand to the surgeon.  ¡°Thank you, you may go.¡±


    He stepped out to the reception desk,  ¡°Gene. Find me Geracht.¡±

 4.1

    ¡°Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!¡±  Preature¡¯s team chanted at Darius as he imbibed his seventh beer.


    ¡°Fuck!  We could make a fortune off your drinking alone!¡±  Leary said, giving Darius a slap on the back.


    ¡°You don¡¯t feel anything?¡± Tinker asked, keeping track of vitals through the drinking process.


    ¡°[BLOOD ALCOHOL LEVEL NORMALIZED]¡±  Darius¡¯s visual display repeated with each drink.


    ¡°I feel nothing,¡±  Darius said.


    ¡°Maybe it is working!¡±  CURL joked.


    ¡°No, I mean that I don¡¯t feel any different.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, we got that, kid,¡±  Leary handed a shot of some honey-brown liquid to Darius, who immediately choked it down.


    ¡°We should probably stop this.  It will start to add up soon,¡±  Tinker said, checking the balance on their tab.


    ¡°Come on!  We made a mint off that last job.  This is totally worth it!¡±  Leary said before taking another shot himself.  ¡°So, kid. Tell us more about yourself.¡±


    ¡°Well, you know the important stuff.  My dad was the head of SaeSyn, and I spent my life locked in my home in Miami.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s really all there is?¡±  CURL asked, a bit disappointed.


    ¡°Yep. Not much more than that.¡±


    ¡°First kiss?  Shag?  Wank?¡±  Leary asked abruptly.


    ¡°Look, I was locked in my house all my life.  There wasn¡¯t any of that.¡±


    ¡°Still coulda wanked...¡±  Leary mumbled under his breath.  CURL punched his arm.  ¡°Come on!  You were thinking it too!¡±


    ¡°What about all of you?  You haven¡¯t told me anything about yourselves.¡±


    ¡°I lived on the street,¡±  CURL answered.  ¡°Until I got in touch with Preature, he gave me the chance to prove my worth by testing my hacking skills.  He set out three skill challenges for me and told me to complete one.  I completed all three.  I pissed off an AI security system as a result.  Now, I¡¯m always looking over my shoulder in the deep web.  Never know when this thing will come for me, scramble my brain.¡±


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    ¡°I was going to school to be a surgeon.  My bills got out of control and I had to drop out.  Preature hired me to the team and I¡¯m trying to save up to go back to school,¡±  Tinker offered before taking a drink.


    ¡°I fought in the wars,¡±  Leary¡¯s face became serious.  His eyes glossed over, the soul draining out of them.  ¡°Everyone I knew from those days has died.¡±  He took a drag from a cigarette.  ¡°Every last one of them,¡±  eyes staring blankly into nothingness.


    ¡°What happened to them?¡±  Darius asked cautiously.


    ¡°The war got some¡­ The corporations got the rest.  P-Sec is a thankless business.  More often than not, taking the job means signing your life away.  I guess I got out at a good time.  Went private.  Found a Ven that would give a shit.¡±


    ¡°Preature is many things.  One of my favorite things about him is that he gives a shit,¡±  CURL agreed.


    Darius thought about this and said, ¡°What do you think he wants with me?¡±


    ¡°From what I can see.  He wants to get the details on that tech you¡¯re sporting,¡±  Tinker replied.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°He could sell them for a big payday.  The design files, that is,¡±  CURL answered.  Then immediately sealed her lips, realizing she may have said too much.


    ¡°How would he get those?¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know,¡±  Tinker said, pointedly.  ¡°Just a working theory right now,¡± he shot CURL a glance of concern.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I have to offer any of you.  I¡¯m nobody.  I haven¡¯t done anything to help anyone.  I might as well have never existed.  My whole life, I¡¯ve been locked away from the world, so I¡¯ve never left a mark on it.  What¡¯s going to change that now?¡±  Darius asked with concern mounting.


    He looked around the dirty bar.  Red lighting drowned the space.  It was nearly empty, save for a few regulars that had already sunken themselves deeply into the drink.  The robotic bartender hung like a torso from a single curved bar with a track that ran all through the place.  It approached their table with another tray of shots and beer.


    ¡°Do I have to?  I¡¯m getting full,¡±  Darius said.


    ¡°Yes, you do, because I¡¯m getting drunk, and I don¡¯t want anyone here to be sober when we¡¯re done.  Not even you, robo-boy!¡±  Leary pointed a scarred finger at Darius¡¯s chest.


    ¡°ROBO-BOY!¡±  CURL shouted.


    ¡°YES!¡±  Tinker locked eyes with CURL.


    ¡°NO!¡±  Darius shook his head.  ¡°That¡¯s the worst nickname ever.¡±


    ¡°Actually, the worst nickname ever was Shovelface.  A buddy of mine who did aerial bombardment in the war.  I probably don¡¯t have to explain why he got that one,¡±  Leary slammed another shot and lit a new cigarette with the old one.


    ¡°Please, not Robo-Boy.¡±


    ¡°How about Proxy, then?¡±  Tinker spouted.


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Darius thought.


    ¡°You¡¯ll always be Robo-Boy to me,¡±  Leary said, with an unapologetic smirk.


    The front door to the bar swung open and the large figure of Preature stood there.  He pointed at Darius.  ¡°We need to get him out of here.¡±

 4.2

    A giant silhouette darkened an alleyway, moving from the crushed body of a young man.  The silhouette mumbled, ¡°So frail.¡±


    He raised a bloodied hand to his forehead, whispering inaudible words.  He rested his head against the wall, wiping the gore from his metal hands onto the concrete. ¡°So frail.¡±


    Suddenly he turned, as though responding to a noise.


    ¡°Get away from me,¡±  he growled into the empty air around him.  Then focused his eyes on a single point of empty space.


    He swings an arm at nothing.  ¡°Get away!¡±  He lashed out again at multiple figures that weren''t there.


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    ¡°No.  You¡¯re wrong.  You thanked me for it!  I saw it in your eyes.  Gratitude!¡±  He threw a punch into the air, stumbling forward from the shift of his weight into nothing.


    He stumbled out of the alley and into the empty street.  ¡°You wanted me to do it.  I wanted to do it for you.¡±


    Rain began to fall, snapping against his leather jacket and metal chest.  ¡°I set you free, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    A street light illuminated his face.  Geracht.  His eyes alight with a mixture of exhilaration and glory.


    Then the people surrounding him suddenly disappeared from his view.  He saw himself instead on a beach, a small sandcastle in front of him.  The sun was setting beyond the waves.  His face twisted into a pained expression.  ¡°No...¡±


    A wave rolled in, lapping at the edge of the castle.  Small footprints filled with water and were washed away.


    ¡°No...¡±

 5.0 - Catalysis

    Clouds rolled across an ashen sky, swallowing the moon and sinking the city into neon darkness.  Darius stood on the department store roof, watching the scrolling fluorescence of a drink advertisement on a distant skyscraper.


    Preature had rushed everyone back so quickly.  Now he was meeting with his team and Darius had been left to his own devices.  When would things begin to shift for him?  When would he find some sense of home again?


    He triggered his cybernetic heads-up display once again.


    ¡°[BODY EQUILIBRIUM] 5%, ability slot enabled¡±


    ¡°Ability slot?  What¡¯s that?¡± he thought aloud.


    ¡°[DEFINITION] Ability slot - when the equilibrium between body and cybernetics reaches certain points, new abilities are enabled.  The body is only able to acclimate to cybernetics at a certain rate.  The installed cybernetics will only be able to enable ability slots once the body is ready.  If the body is not ready, then cascading biological failure would ensue, starting with seizures and possibly ending in stroke and permanent brain damage.¡±


    ¡°What the?  You¡¯re listening to me?¡±


    ¡°[STATEMENT] Yes, but my responses are limited to the programming by Gradius Byun.¡±


    ¡°Father¡­ Why would he do this?  Why did he install you onto me?¡±


    ¡°[STATEMENT] Unknown¡±


    ¡°What do I do with the ability slot?¡±


    ¡°[STATEMENT] Because ability slots are rare and only available when your body is ready, you will need to choose from pre-set ability slot customizations.  When your body equilibrium meets certain milestones, you will be able to select modifications from a list.¡±


    ¡°What about now?  Can I choose something now?¡±


    ¡°Select one ability:  Arm Holster - Allows for concealment of one small weapon within the forearm; Weapon Scan - Allows the ability to detect weapons concealed within clothing;¡±


    Darius¡¯s mind raced over his options.  He stewed over his choices.  ¡°Later, will I be able to choose from those that I didn¡¯t pick this time?¡±


    ¡°[STATEMENT] No.  Ability slot tiers are finite and particular.  These options will not be presented again in this way.  However, more powerful versions may become available with time.¡±


    Darius sighed, ¡°Okay, arm holster.  I need weapons.¡±


    ¡°[ABILITY SLOT ASSIGNED]  Arm Holster enabled¡±


    |  Health: 100%              |


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    |  Body Equilibrium: 5%  |


    |  DPS: 5                         |


    |  Defense: 25                 |


    |  Agility: 10                     |


    |  Perception: 20             |


    |  Intellect: 10                  |


    |  -    -    -    -    -    -    -    |


    |  Arm Holster                 |


    Darius felt a buzz from within his right arm as a panel slipped open to receive a weapon and an extended rail of ammunition.  The arm closed after a moment, having received nothing.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the weapon?¡±


    ¡°[STATEMENT]  The weapon and ammunition must be supplied by you.¡±


    Darius set his teeth on edge and looked out at the city again.  Spotlights danced upon the underside of the clouds.  Wailing sirens echoed from the distance.  The musty scent of wet asphalt was carried to the rooftop by a light breeze.  Darius wondered where Preature kept the weapons.


    Sneaking down the stairs and into the back office hallways, Darius checked a door to find that it was locked.  Tinny voices flowed down the hall from a room further down.


    ¡°...he should probably know,¡±  CURL¡¯s voice carried.


    ¡°No.  He¡¯ll be safer if he knows nothing.  He¡¯s liable to freak out and give us away,¡±  Tinker responded.


    Darius¡¯s brows furrowed as he began to listen closer, quietly shuffling to another door.  He tried the handle and it opened, but saw that it was just another entrance into the cubicle sleeping quarters where he had woken earlier that day.


    ¡°He¡¯s a good lad, I vote we tell him.  He can handle it,¡±  Leary spoke in a slurred voice, still drunk.


    ¡°If he doesn¡¯t know the danger, he won¡¯t know how to protect himself from it,¡±  Preature¡¯s voice followed.


    Darius gritted his teeth.  He had been taken from his home, operated on without his permission, and left to die in a strange city.  He was tired of others making decisions for him.  He stood and stormed towards the room where the meeting was taking place.  Slamming the door open, he shouted, ¡°What danger, Preature?!?  What danger?  Why can¡¯t I decide for myself?¡±


    Preature looked up at Darius through his mirrored shades.  ¡°You¡¯re right, kid.  You should know.¡±  He stood and ushered Darius to a seat.  ¡°Del Peck is looking for you.  He called me and offered me one million to find you.¡±


    ¡°But, he¡¯s the one that threw me into the streets to die.  Why does he want me back?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, kid.  This doesn¡¯t look good for you,¡±  Preature remained standing, his imposing height dwarfing Darius.


    ¡°Well, are you turning me in?¡±


    ¡°We talked about it,¡±  CURL broke in.


    ¡°The answer is no.  We¡¯re gonna protect you,¡±  Preature finished.


    ¡°Why?  What do you care if I live or die?¡±


    ¡°Your tech.  To be honest, we''re gonna need you to help us find the rest of it.  It didn¡¯t all get installed in you.  Your surgery wasn¡¯t finished,¡±  Leary said flatly.


    ¡°You¡¯re also a miracle, kid.  By all rights, you ought to be dead, but you¡¯ve been given a second chance at life.  That might not mean much to many, but it means something to me,¡±  Preature set a heavy hand on Darius¡¯s shoulder.  ¡°Means you¡¯re worth saving.  Who knows what kind of destiny you¡¯ve got on you.  Maybe you¡¯ll just get shot and bleed out in the street, but my money''s on you having a future.¡±


    ¡°Alright.¡±  Darius stood, shedding Preature¡¯s hand in the process, ¡°I need a gun.¡±


    ¡°Now we¡¯re talkin¡¯!¡±  Leary shouted.

 5.1

    Geracht entered Del¡¯s office.  His hands were still bloodied from the encounter earlier in the night.  Del looked him up and down.


    ¡°Geracht.  You¡¯ve done it again,¡±  Del spoke in slow measured tones.


    Geracht looked down at his hands, ¡°So I have.¡±  Then he looked up at Del, ¡°Why have you called for me?¡±


    ¡°I need you to take me to the place where you¡¯d disposed of Gradius¡¯s body.  My gut is telling me that there¡¯s something worth finding there.¡±  Del walked up to Geracht, ¡°Tell me, Geracht.  In all of your surgeries, how many included a data cable?¡±


    ¡°None, sir.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.  Yet, a data cable was found in the operating room where the Byun boy was enhanced,¡±  Del paused.  ¡°What do you suppose they needed that cable for?  You see, I think it was to transfer files into those cybernetics.  That means you would have files in the cybernetics we¡¯d installed in you from that operating room.¡±


    Geracht¡¯s eyes flashed with light as he did an internal systems analysis, searching for any undocumented file systems.  An alert flashed in his vision.


    ¡°[DETECTION]  New cybernetics memory allocation detected.  Data cannot be decrypted.¡±


    ¡°I see it now.  Files using cybernetics memory addresses, but they¡¯re encrypted,¡±  Geracht mumbled beneath his breath.


    ¡°Exactly,¡±  Del spoke excitedly.  ¡°I think Gradius stored CellarDoor in those pieces, and knowing him, I think he had the encryption key on him when the surgery was being performed.  He was in the room during the surgery, so he must have facilitated the data transfer and encryption.  I need that key, Geracht.  Take me to the body.¡±


    Geracht nodded and led the way to his IFV on the top level of the garage.  He entered a set of coordinates to a location far into the dustlands where an old abandoned garbage dump could be found.  Del followed Geracht through the dump.  It was covered in dust and rotting materials.  Sheets of plastic blew in the wind, and rusted I-beams, concrete, and rebar stuck out from a pile of rubble that was once a building.  Home refused and wasted from ages past lay in sun-bleached piles, reaching great heights.


    The stench of this place still remained, having soaked into the blowing dust itself.  It didn¡¯t take long before Del and Geracht were confronted with a new scent.


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    A sickly sweet smell punctuated the heavy odor of decay wafting ahead.  Geracht lifted a large sheet of corrugated steel to reveal a pile of bodies, some that Del recognized, and many that he didn''t.  While most of the bodies were dessicated and covered with dust, there were a few that were fresh, including the mutilated and dismembered corpse of Gradius Byun.


    ¡°This is what was left after he fell,¡±  Geracht assured.


    Del rushed to the body and searched through the pockets for anything he could find, but he came up with nothing.  He then looked at Gradius''s shoes, sitting neatly next to the body; feet still inside.  He sloughed the guck from inside to find a memory key within.  He held it up with a smile. ¡°Geracht, slot this in.  Let¡¯s see if it works.¡±


    Geracht opened an arm panel and slotted the key into a port there.  His eyes glowed and flickered as he tried time and again to access the data.  ¡°It¡¯s password protected.  The encryption key itself is encrypted.¡±


    Del kicked the remains of Gradius¡¯s skull into the side of a rusted out car.  ¡°Find me the Byun boy!  I don¡¯t care what it takes.  Get him to me alive!¡±  He typed on his cell, sending a message to his P-Sec officers.  The Vens weren¡¯t working fast enough.


    Del took the key from Getacht and pocketed it.  Then he sanitized his hands and started walking back out of the dump towards the IFV.


    Geracht turned to look at his hoard.  His desiccated pile of memories.  He stood a moment, looking over each one, but his eyes came to rest on a small skeletal hand.  He gently rested the corrugated steel sheet back over.  A tear cresting the edge of his cybernetic eye.


    -    -    -


    Leary studied the armature within Darius¡¯s arm holster.  He finished sawing the handle off of a handgun, filing the edges, and then slotting it onto the metal.  A helictical track ran through the arm, around the metal bone.  He loaded thirty rounds into the track and pressed the gun down into the arm.


    A whizzing sound and vibration came from within Darius¡¯s arm.  He clenched his right fist and angled the knuckles down, causing the gun to erupt from the arm.


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t shoot in here,¡±  Leary said, stepping back.


    ¡°Sorry,¡±  Darius said, admiring the weapon.


    ¡°That¡¯s how you arm it,¡±  Tinker walked around to Darius¡¯s shoulder.  ¡°To fire, you clench your fist as tightly as you can.  There¡¯s a flat panel in your palm that will trigger the gun to fire.  If you hold it, it¡¯ll keep firing.  Best I can tell, it¡¯s about two rounds per second.  The problem is the reload.  It takes time to pop rounds into the track one by one.¡±


    ¡°I see.  Okay,¡±  Darius took a deep breath.


    CURL sat in a chair, eyes glowing as she navigated the deep web.  ¡°I¡¯ve found three different doctors currently employed by SaeSyn.  Two have been logged as missing, meaning the last one must be the one we need.  His name is Pascal Rubonne¡­¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the doctor for?¡±  Darius asked.


    CURL looked up, ¡°So that we can find the rest of your missing parts.¡±

 6.0 - Analysis

    |  Health: 100%              |


    |  Body Equilibrium: 7%  |


    |  DPS: 5                         |


    |  Defense: 25                 |


    |  Agility: 10                     |


    |  Perception: 20             |


    |  Intellect: 10                  |


    |  -    -    -    -    -    -    -    |


    |  Arm Holster                 |


    SaeSyn headquarters stood tall and dark in the neon night.  Leary waited quietly, watching the surgeon, Pascal Rubonne, through his rifle scope from a darkened office across the street.  He had been watching Pascal for hours, waiting for him to leave his office and head home but the man had remained sitting at his desk, listening to music and working through something on his computer.


    ¡°Any movement?¡± CURL asked over the earbud radio.


    ¡°Nope.  Still at his desk like a chump,¡±  Leary responded, adjusting his rifle to sit more comfortably against his shoulder.


    Down in the SaeSyn parking garage, the team waited inside of an old van parked next to Pascal''s car.  CURL hid behind a column in the garage, ready to hit the man with a paralyzing jolt directly to his cybernetics core as soon as she saw him.  After hours of waiting, her eyes were wandering, and her attention was waning.


    From inside the van, Preature spoke to CURL through the radio, ¡°Cameras still set to repeat footage?¡±


    ¡°Yes.  They don¡¯t see the van, or me.¡±


    ¡°Good.  I still think it was a bad idea to bring the kid into the belly of the beast like this,¡±  Leary responded.


    ¡°It¡¯s a risk, but he¡¯s safer here than alone at HQ,¡±  Preature spoke, looking at Darius in the back of the van.


    Darius looked up at Preature, trying to appear calm, but unable to hide the nervous tapping of his foot against the van floor.  He¡¯d only just begun to learn what his cybernetics could do.  He wasn¡¯t planning to get a lesson against trained SaeSyn P-Sec officers.


    ¡°Breathe, D,¡±  Tinker placed a hand on Darius¡¯s shoulder.  ¡°We¡¯ve got you.¡±


    It was a nice gesture, but Darius wasn¡¯t comforted.  He cleared his throat.  ¡°How much longer do you think he¡¯ll be?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll take as long as he takes,¡±  Preature said, stretching his arms in front of himself, then placing them behind his head in a relaxing gesture.


    Leary watched through the scope.  Still and silent, taking long, slow breaths.  It¡¯s been a while since his last dose, and he was starting to feel antsy.  ¡°I uh¡­ I¡¯m gonna need my meds again soon.¡±


    ¡°Take them,¡±  Preature ordered.


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    Leary pulled a blister pack from his pocket and popped the pills free from their containment, then into his mouth.


    Pascal stood and shut his computer down.  He finished the rest of his drink and headed to the office door.


    Leary put the blister pack away and looks through his scope, just in time to see the surgeon closing his office door.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got movement.  He¡¯s leaving his office now,¡±  Leary called to the others.


    ¡°Let¡¯s hope it¡¯s not another bathroom break,¡±  Darius mumbled.


    Moments later, the surgeon entered the parking garage, adjusting his coat on his shoulders.  He saw the van parked next to his car and halted his steps.  A puzzled expression crossed his face as he took another tentative step forward.  Then he took a step back, and turned toward the door.


    ¡°Hit him, CURL.  Leary, head down to the meeting spot,¡±  Preature spoke into the earbud radio.


    CURL¡¯s eyes began to glow as she remotely accessed Pascal¡¯s cybernetics.  In no time, she cracked through the security and had access to his core.  ¡°Freeze, scumbag.¡±  His body locked up as electricity was purged from his core and into his body.  He fell forward in time for Preature and Tinker to catch him and drag him into the back of the van.  CURL followed.


    Zip ties were secured on the surgeon¡¯s thumbs, wrists, and ankles.  Then he was gagged and Tinker injected him with a sedative.  Preature moved to the driver¡¯s seat, started the van, and tore out of the garage.


    They stopped at the corner, allowing Leary into the passenger seat, and drove twenty minutes out to an abandoned warehouse near the city¡¯s old Distillery district.


    The man was further zip tied to a chair and then awoken with an injection and a slap across the face.  The gag was pulled from his mouth.


    He was disoriented for a moment.  Pursing his eyes shut, trying to gain a sense of composure.  ¡°Who¡­ who are you?¡± he mumbled.


    ¡°Friends, believe it or not.¡±  Preature stood behind the man, as did everyone else.  Pascal tried to turn his head far enough to see them, but the muscles were stiff and uncooperative.


    ¡°Some friends,¡±  the man said, spitting fuzz out of his mouth and onto the gag.  ¡°Fine.  I¡¯ll play.  What do you want with me?¡±


    ¡°You know something about the operation on Darius Byun.  Do you not?¡±  Preature rumbled.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about that.  Everyone who did know anything is dead now.  I don¡¯t have anything I can tell you.¡±


    ¡°You recognize him, kid?¡±  Preature asked Darius.  Darius just shakes his head, no.


    ¡°You have him?  You have the Byun boy?¡±  The surgeon strained trying to see Darius, but could only make him out with his peripheral vision.  ¡°Ah, I see you there.  Del is looking for you.  He wants to send you back home.  He regrets leaving you to fend for yourself.  You understand, right?¡±


    Darius paused, teeth clenched, wondering if it might just be true.


    ¡°He wants to honor your father and give you the life you should be living.¡±


    This caught Darius, and he squinted at the back of the surgeon¡¯s head.  ¡°He had my father killed.¡±


    ¡°No, I swear it.  Your dad jumped to his death from the top of the building.¡±


    Darius ejected his gun and fired it for the first time immediately next to the man¡¯s right ear.


    A loud ringing erupted in the surgeon¡¯s mind as blood began to clog his ear.  ¡°Ah!  Aaaah!  Why did you¡­?¡± he spat out.


    ¡°Because you¡¯re lying, you piece of shit,¡±  Darius caught himself, taking a breath, and heading back to stand with Preature.


    ¡°Wait, wait, wait.  I know.  I know things.  I know things!  Just ask me!¡± Pascal¡¯s eyes became frantic.


    ¡°There were cybernetics that didn¡¯t get installed into Darius.  Where did they go?¡±  Preature asked.


    The surgeon halted for a moment.  He thought of Geracht, and the process of installing the pieces onto his already fully cybered-up body.  ¡°P-Sec officers.  I installed them into some of Del¡¯s P-Sec officers.  I uh¡­I DNA encoded them to the officers and they¡¯re out on the streets looking for you, Darius.  They¡¯re assigned to the location Geracht had left you, looking for you.¡°  That last part was true.


    ¡°Thanks!¡±  Leary said, then without hesitation, put a bullet into Pascal¡¯s head.

 6.1

    Dust, mud, and sometimes snow.  That¡¯s all there was in the wastes after the eruption.  The only trees that could be seen were the dead husks of what once had been.  Hardened ash still covered much of the gray outskirts of the city.


    Geracht was no stranger to this place.  A shadow of himself wandered here.  It lured him here.  He could feel it.  There was some long forgotten memory that beckoned him; some whispering echo of his pain.


    These houses, driveways, mailboxes.  This abandoned suburb in the north-western edge of SOLA held something.  Something that Geracht feared, yet had been unable to decode in all the years of returning.  However, this time, he was close.  He knew it in the deepest parts of his animal soul.


    The dust and ash coat his boots in a fine layer.  The winds blew strongly out here, kicking up all of the particulates of ages past, blowing them into Gerachts face.  He wore a filtration mask to allow him to properly breathe but his cybernetic eyes crust around the edges where they touched their fleshy lids.  He rubbed at them, cursing the meat parts that still plagued him.


    He peered through the wind and dust, coat flapping with each fresh gust.  Why did he still come here?  The exhilaration?  The fear?  It was the only thing he feared.  This place.  This relic of a neighborhood.  He always saw the ghosts out here.  Shadows and light in the secret corners.  Silhouettes of people that he thought he might have known once, long ago.


    His blood chilled as he continued forward into the gray.  Fresh illusions crowded at the edge of his vision.  They always came when he thought of them.  They came to thank him, to worship him, to torture him.  The images of those he had killed; but in this place, there were others.  People he might have even loved once.


    The laugh of a child could be heard in the wind.  Geracht turned sharply toward the sound, ghosts still only in the periphery.  ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± he thought to himself.


    A gust of wind blew a clearing in his vision, and the remains of a house could be seen.  Another child¡¯s laugh carried, but from the house this time.


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    ¡°No¡­¡±  Geracht spoke aloud.  The ghosts on the edge of his vision crept in closer.  He saw small footprints in the ash and sand before him, leading to the skewed front door of the house.  ¡°No¡­¡±  Tears collected in the corners of his eyes and he dropped to his knees.  ¡°You can¡¯t keep doing this to me¡­¡±


    The wind died down to a light breeze, and the ghosts receded.  Suddenly, color saturated around him, and the house was whole once again.  He saw a man and woman holding a toddler, smiling larger than life.  He crawled towards them, still feeling the ash against his hands as he moved.  The child laughed as the father tickled her side.


    Geracht stood once more and walked to the man, a mirror image of himself, but before any of the surgeries had been performed.  ¡°What did you do?  WHAT DID YOU DO!?¡±  His confusion mounted to new levels.  Feeling the encroaching darkness of past horror, but without the clarity of memory.


    A flash of light crossed Geracht¡¯s vision and he was suddenly alone in front of the broken house once more.  He wiped the dust and ash from the front of his mask and took a breath.  Then he opened the door to the home.


    Evidence markers stood in various places to punctuate the horror.  Old blackened bloodstains marked the walls and covered the floor.  A stuffed bear sat in one of the dried puddles.  Geracht clutched at the sides of his head and fell to his knees once more with a scream as loud as he could make.


    Memories flooded his mind.  He fell onto his side next to the bear, tears carving rivers into the dust on his face.  ¡°You were so frail.  So small.¡±  Geracht had come home to this once before.  The blood, but also the bodies.


    The Yellowstone eruption disrupted life to the point that the investigation never went further than this.  ¡°So¡­ frail¡­¡±  The person who had done it was never caught.  Geracht¡¯s mind broke that day.  That¡¯s when the ghosts first began to visit him.


    His breath shuddered as he lay weakly on the floor.  He had promised himself on that day that he would never be frail again, but here he was, broken once more.  He clasped the teddy bear in his fist, tears continuing to stream from around his cybernetic eyes.


    He remained on the floor for an age, holding the bear.  Then the ghosts began to return as misty shadows around him, and his memory once again began to fade.  ¡°No¡­¡±  He pushed the bear deep into one of his pockets and stood.  The ghost of his daughter took his hand and led him out the door.  Then she faded into the blowing dust.


    Geracht continued walking back to his IFV.

 6.2

    Darius held a cup of coffee in one hand and a digital marker in the other.  His heart thumped within as he sat amongst the group, for the first time feeling like an equal amongst them.


    Tinker sat at a computer, controlling the hard glow of a holo projection depicting a zoomed in section of the city.


    Darius walked around the holo, marking the known search patterns of Del¡¯s P-Sec officers on the map.


    Tinker pointed at the holo.  ¡°We¡¯ve seen them doing sweeps through condemned buildings here and here.  They travel between each building using the roads.¡±


    Darius marked the locations and movement vectors with his digital pen.


    Leary stepped up to the holo, passing a finger through its glow.  ¡°It looks like they¡¯ll be moving to this abandoned construction yard next.  I suspect this is our best shot at taking them down.  It¡¯s an open space with plenty of high spots for views, and low spots for ambush.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the place, then.¡±  Preature rumbled.


    ¡°They¡¯re likely to use the established entryways, as designed.  The first floor has been built, but only the framing exists above that,¡±  Leary continued.  ¡°I will post up in the framing to take potshots at them from there, with a zipline escape, as usual.  The rest of you will be the ground assault team.  We¡¯ll need to keep it close-quarters, if we¡¯re going to pull this off.¡±


    The group nodded in unison.  Then Leary elaborated,  ¡°Preature, you hit them with EMP grenades and shotgun fire here at the entrance.  CURL, stay out of sight and try to paralyze them, or at least mess with their cybernetic targeting.  Tinker, you protect Preature with cover fire, and keep an ear on comms to ensure you¡¯re there for anyone that needs medical attention.  Darius, don¡¯t get captured or shot, and stay out of the way.  Keep your face uncovered, we want them to see you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best,¡±  Darius said, with an edge of sarcasm.  ¡°But I think I¡¯d rather help¡­¡±


    ¡°No,¡±  Preature interrupted.  ¡°You do what Leary says.  He¡¯s our strategy man.  He knows what he¡¯s doing.¡±


    Darius held his tongue as seeds of frustration began to root within him.  Perhaps he wasn¡¯t as equal as he¡¯d thought.


    Tinker pointed to CURL, ¡°As soon as a P-Sec goes down, I need you to break into their registry files and look for any cybernetics that are present in the functional list, but aren¡¯t listed otherwise.  That¡¯s the only way we¡¯ll be able to tell who has what parts.¡±


    ¡°Then, as the dust settles, we collect anyone with Darius¡¯s missing parts, and take them to this building here, and Tinker operates on them to get the pieces we need,¡±  Preature added.


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    ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound very sanitary to be taking parts out of someone to put into me,¡±  Darius commented, less out of curiosity and more out of a rebellious attitude.


    Tinker looked from face to face, then responded,  ¡°It happens in the streets all the time.  There are hunters out there looking for cybernetics on the cheap, and what¡¯s cheaper than free?  At least we¡¯ll properly clean and coat the parts with biogel so your body doesn¡¯t reject them.  Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s perfectly safe.  Mostly.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, by the way.  We¡¯re doing this to get your parts back after all,¡±  Leary interjected.


    ¡°Enough, the kid¡¯s been through a lot.  He should be allowed to complain a little now and then,¡±  CURL said, walking over to Darius.


    ¡°Let¡¯s get back to the matter at hand,¡±  Preature grumbled.  ¡°Del¡¯s P-Sec officers will likely be armed with a basic loadout.  Submachine guns, pistols, combat knives, flash bangs, and some cybertech; like armature blades.  We¡¯re likely to have the best shot of success by hitting them hard and fast from the shadows.¡±


    Darius looked down at his upgraded right arm.  He popped the gun out and then back in again.  It was only a matter of time until his next ability slot opened up, and he couldn¡¯t help but wonder what options there would be.


    ¡°Darius,¡±  Tinker called.  ¡°You listening?  This is important.¡±


    Leary spoke up, ¡°If things go wrong, Darius becomes our number one priority.  We get him out of there as soon as we can, regardless of the circumstances otherwise.  We could have most of the P-Sec officers down, but if we need to protect Darius, he¡¯s our top priority.¡±


    Preature looked over to Darius through slit eyes and said firmly,  ¡°If we get separated, you come back here.  Make sure you¡¯re not being followed.¡±


    Darius nodded, ¡°Okay.  And what if they recognize me and take me?¡±


    ¡°Then we abort.  All is lost,¡±   Preature said in a darkened tone.


    ¡°Why bring me at all?¡±


    ¡°Bait,¡±  Leary added matter-of-factly.


    ¡°What?!?¡±


    ¡°Yes.  And, you have to learn to protect yourself, kid.  Del Peck is coming at you with everything he has.  You¡¯re going into the deep end because we don¡¯t have time for anything else,¡±  Leary spoke around a cigarette that he had just lit.


    ¡°Why help me get these parts?¡±


    The team looked at each other.  Preature subtly shook his head, no.  Still refusing to tell Darius about the design files hidden inside of his cybernetics.  He stood up.  ¡°That tech was made for you.  It likely still has bio-encoding for you.  We¡¯re just getting you what¡¯s yours.  Then, with your newfound power, you¡¯ll help us get what should be ours.¡±


    Darius peered at Preature.


    ¡°Give it some time.  You¡¯ll understand how the world works soon enough.  I¡¯m a Ven, kid.  One of the best in the city.  People come to me to get what they want, and I get it for them.  We all do this, and we get paid well to do it.  This all goes as planned, and you¡¯ll officially join the team,¡±  Preature deflected.


    A rush of excitement rose in Darius as he soaked in Preature¡¯s words, but a small doubt still remained within him.  Why did they all look at Preature that way a moment ago?  They were hiding something.

 7.0 - Necrosis

    |  Health: 100%              |


    |  Body Equilibrium: 9%  |


    |  DPS: 15                       |


    |  Defense: 25                 |


    |  Agility: 10                     |


    |  Perception: 20             |


    |  Intellect: 10                  |


    |  -    -    -    -    -    -    -    |


    |  Arm Holster                 |


    The destitute inhabitants of SOLA pulled away, hiding in the shadows as the hulking frame of Geracht rounded the corner of the street.  Elite P-Sec officers followed behind, armed to the teeth, and lining people up against walls edging the sidewalk.


    A P-Sec connected a sensor to the trembling index finger of one of the people lined against the wall and showed her a photo of Darius.  She shook her head, no.   The P-Sec nodded and disconnected the sensor before moving on to the next person.


    Geracht lumbered a few steps down the street with an odd expression on his face.


    A child¡¯s laughter echoed in his mind.


    Darius waited at the end of the street for a moment, his breath caught in his lungs as his heart tore a new rhythm in his chest.  ¡°Geracht is here...¡±  He spoke into his earbud radio.  ¡°...And the P-Sec guys look pretty tough.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a Geracht?¡±  Leary asked.  ¡°I mean, I know what a garrote is, like the wire, but¡­ what?¡±


    ¡°He works for Del.  He¡¯s a walking tank.  Cybered head to toe,¡±  Darius whispered.


    ¡°Well¡­ shit,¡±  Leary spit off of his post, high in the framing of the unfinished building.  He looked through his scope again, trying to get a view of what Darius was seeing, but the targets weren''t yet in sight.


    ¡°Language, Leary,¡±  Preature responded.


    ¡°I feel like this one deserved it,¡±  Leary muttered to himself.


    ¡°Plan doesn¡¯t change.  They¡¯re heading our way whether we like it or not,¡±  Preature insisted.  ¡°It¡¯s time, kid.¡±


    Darius swallowed hard and stepped out into the street, hood down and face uncovered.  He stood openly watching, waiting until Geracht and the P-Sec officers noticed him. It was Geracht who had seen him first. They immediately gave chase; tossing people out of the way.  Darius ran down an alley and into the abandoned construction site.  Geracht and P-Sec in tow.


    ¡°Got a visual!¡±  Leary called, headshotting a P-Sec as they turned the corner.  Then he saw the rest of them.  ¡°There are more than we were expecting, and they¡¯re way more armed than we¡¯d talked about.  Cripes, that big guy is more metal than meat.¡±


    Darius took cover at the back of the construction site, and Preature waited next to the entrance in ambush.  Tinker hid behind cover, pistol at the ready.  CURL was kneeled behind a wall, scanning the area for potential remote targets of her hacking.


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    A P-Sec burst through the entrance and immediately caught a combat shotgun blast to the face, dropping hard to the ground.  Another ran through and a new blast ripped through his armored chestplate, revealing metallic scales beneath the flesh.  Tinker popped up from his cover and sent a bullet into the man¡¯s head to finish him off.


    CURL¡¯s eyes widened as she sensed another seventeen individuals entering the area.  ¡°There are more than double what we were expecting!¡± she yelled as she hacked a P-Sec that had hunkered down by an open window frame, sending him into convulsions as she triggered a seizure in his brain via his cybernetics.  However, not all of the attackers had been cybered up.  She would have limited impact.


    Geracht entered the alley boldly, taking no cover.  He walked up to the concrete wall of the construction site and tore through it as though it were paper.  Then he used the new entrance he had just created.


    The laughter in his head became louder, edging on a scream.


    ¡°Shit!¡±  Preature shouted.


    ¡°Language!¡±  Leary called sarcastically into his earpiece, taking a headshot at Geracht, the bullet glancing off of the metal beneath the man¡¯s scalp with ease.


    CURL peaked around the corner to see Geracht and started to hack him.  It didn¡¯t take long before she was shut out of his system.  ¡°Can¡¯t get into the big one.  His system has redundant protections that are locking me out.¡±


    Darius popped out of his cover to take shots into the growing stream of P-Sec officers entering through the hole that Geracht had made.  The bullets seemed to do nothing, burying themselves into concrete or plicking off of body armor to no effect.


    ¡°I can¡¯t hurt them!¡±  Darius yelled.


    A P-Sec rounded behind Preature, firing two shots into his armored jacket.  He dropped as she fired another round where his head had just been.  He spun to press the combat shotgun beneath her chin and blasted her head from her neck.  Covered in blood and viscera, he turned to lose another shot at a P-Sec unloading a full clip in his direction.  Slugs pecked at Preature¡¯s jacket as Pellets embedded themselves into the attacker¡¯s face.  Another one down, but many still remain.


    Leary fired another shot at Geracht¡¯s head, and again, they both just grazed off of the metal beneath the man¡¯s skin.  Finally, Geracht turned his attention to Leary. Leary turned to slide down the zipline to meet this monster face to face, but Geracht grabbed the bottom of the zipline first and cut it, causing Leary to fall nearly two stories, landing on his side.


    Ribs shattered.  Bone shards flew into Leary¡¯s left lung.  His breath came in ragged whistling gasps; but he retained his focus on Geracht, flicking his rifle to burst mode and unleashing a staccato mass of blazing metal in the monster¡¯s direction.


    Geracht soon stood over Leary, unaffected and began to press his foot into the man¡¯s side.  Leary¡¯s face went white as he strained in agony against the titanic weight pressing into his already crushed ribcage.  Through screaming agony, he raised his rifle again to unleash a tattering volley of shots directly into Geracht¡¯s face.  The bullets ricocheted off in multiple directions, but one bullet found its way through the corner of Geracht¡¯s eye and buried itself between some circuitry.


    Suddenly, the ghosts were everywhere in Geracht¡¯s vision.  He stepped back, releasing Leary from the crushing weight.


    ¡°No!  No!  NO!¡±  Geracht shouted.


    The laughter was replaced by screaming in his head.  Every ghost, blasting him with a volume unheard by his physical ears.


    Geracht roared into the air, swinging a chain gun off of his shoulder and firing in all directions.  Preature dove behind a group of P-Sec officers, allowing them to take the hits in his stead.  CURL rolled low as the concrete above her head exploded into a rain of debris.  Tinker remained behind cover, firing blindly over his own head.  Darius rolled forward to take cover next to CURL.


    Blood sprayed over Preature in the hail of gunfire. Geracht¡¯s shots penetrated armor, steel, flesh, and concrete as he took aim at the ghosts in his vision.


    ¡°Giant bastard,¡±  Leary choked through a spattering of blood from his lung, but Geracht didn''t hear.  He couldn¡¯t hear anything but the voices of the ghosts filling his head.


    The chain gun ran out of ammunition spinning and clicking behind the red glow of the hot metal barrel.  Geracht released the strap and tossed the gun to the side, still roaring.  The ghosts closed in on him, his eyes widening in terror.  He turned and ran, breaking his way through the bodies of his fallen comrades to escape the voices, the visions, the screaming of his little girl at the forefront of the spirits¡¯ rage.


    The team watched Geracht disappear around a corner in horror and confusion.


    The remaining P-Sec officers also abandoned the scene, some grabbing fallen brothers and sisters in arms, others, simply trying to save themselves.

 7.1

    Soon, all became silent.  A deep and impenetrable silence that comes only after the most cataclysmic of events.  Darius looked to CURL, who gave him a look of assurance that she was okay.  Then he looked to Preature, who was heaving P-Sec bodies off of himself.  Tinker ran to Preature to check him over.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±  Preature rumbled and groaned to his feet.


    Tinker checked on CURL and Darius, then himself, but where was Leary?


    The team moved to Leary¡¯s post, saw the cut wire, and the spatter of blood on the ground where Leary had last been.


    ¡°They¡­ they took him!¡±  Darius shouted.


    Preature wiped a smattering of gore from his face.  ¡°They took him.¡±


    CURL walked around to the various bodies, checking their cybernetic registries for anomalies like the ones she¡¯d originally found in Darius.  ¡°There¡¯s nothing here!  None of the parts are here!¡±


    ¡°Damn¡­¡±  Tinker whispered under his breath.


    ¡°There were so many of them.  How could none of them have the parts?¡±  CURL asked aloud.


    Darius came to a shocking realization.  ¡°Because they weren¡¯t installed in these guys. The doctor lied.¡±  He walked off to stand alone for a moment.  Tinker went to follow, but Preature stopped him with a gentle hand on the shoulder.


    ¡°Let him have a minute.  You see if you can patch into Leary¡¯s tracer.¡±  Preature said to both CURL and Tinker.


    Darius walked alone to a wall and stood with his head resting against the cold concrete.  He held there for a moment, frigid tears running down his cheeks as a well of vulnerability rose within him.  He turned around to slide down the wall with eyes closed, but when he opened his eyes, he saw a P-Sec sitting against the opposing wall.  The blood trail led from the middle of the large room to where this man now sat.  He was holding a handgun up to Darius, but slowly let go of the handle, allowing the gun to fall clattering to the ground.


    ¡°S¡­ ssmmmart b¡­boy,¡± the P-Sec struggled to get the words out.  He was near death, and he knew it.  ¡°The d¡­ doctor must have l¡­ lied.  Like you s¡­ ssaid.¡±


    ¡°What do you know about it?¡±  Darius snapped.


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    ¡°J¡­ Just what was in the brief from Del.  I h¡­ hate that guy.  Bastard got me killed,¡± he smirked.


    ¡°What do you know?¡±  Darius asked again, softer this time.


    ¡°I know that Del wants you for the files in your cybernetics¡­ ann¡­ d¡­ he has the encryption key for them.¡±


    ¡°What files?  Encryption key?¡±


    ¡°Files for some top secret p¡­ roject.¡±


    Darius¡¯s mind went back to the secrecy of his newfound friends.  It made sense now.  They knew about the files already.  They wanted all of the parts so that they could get the complete set of those secret project files.


    Preature rounded the corner and saw the man.  ¡°Good, one of you is still alive.¡±


    With a look at Preature, Darius¡¯s insides boiled, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to speak.  He walked away instead.


    Preature watched, knowing something was wrong, but allowing Darius to leave anyway.  He looked at the man on the ground.  ¡°You¡¯re going to tell me everything you know.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ had, s¡­ started telling the boy.  He seems to be upset about s¡­ sssomething.¡±


    ¡°Where are the parts that didn¡¯t get installed into Darius Byun?¡±


    ¡°They¡­ were installed¡­ in Geracht.  He¡¯s more machine than man. They could do it without DNA recoding.¡±  The man coughed and wheezed, getting weaker.  ¡°Do me a favor¡­ Make it happen quicker...¡±


    Preature ended the man¡¯s suffering with a well placed bullet and returned to the group.  Darius was now stewing in his rage there with them.


    ¡°The parts are in the giant, Geracht,¡± Preature announced.


    ¡°Can we trust the source?¡±  CURL asked.


    ¡°No, but it makes sense.  No need to DNA encode parts that way.  We couldn¡¯t figure out the DNA stuff, and it sounds like the surgeon couldn¡¯t figure it out either.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Tinker said disappointedly.  A part of him had wished to be able to find the secret to decoding Darius¡¯s cybernetics.


    Darius looked at all of them.  Feelings of betrayal soaking deeper into his heart.


    Preature fell to one knee, clutching his side.


    Tinker ran to him, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me you were hit?¡±


    ¡°Adrenaline, I guess,¡±  Preature said, confused.


    ¡°We have to get you back.  I¡¯ll take a look at this there.¡±


    ¡°Darius, come help!¡±  CURL called.  Darius moved up to help support Preature¡¯s weight as they headed to their getaway IFV.


    ¡°What do we do about Leary?¡±  Darius asked.


    ¡°Preature first,¡±  Tinker grunted.  ¡°We don¡¯t even know where they would have taken him.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right.  They wouldn¡¯t have taken him to their HQ,¡±  Darius agreed.  He still felt the seething inside, but for now, it was more important to help with Preature.

 8.0 - Oasis

    | Health: 98% |


    | Body Equilibrium: 14% |


    | DPS: 15 |


    | Defense: 25 |


    | Agility: 13 |


    | Perception: 27 |


    | Intellect: 11 |


    | - - - - - - - |


    | Arm Holster |


    Leary awoke strapped to a metal table. His side was a burning mass of pain, his breathing a squeaking wheeze. His mouth and eyes were dry. He could feel the withdrawal of not taking his meds. How long had he been here?


    The room was in absolute darkness. Leary tapped a finger against the metal of the table, listening for the reverberation of the room, but there was none. It must be a tight space, he thought to himself.


    That¡¯s when he realized that his legs wouldn¡¯t move, and it dawned on him. All but his essential cybernetics had been shut down. It wasn¡¯t dark in the room. His eyes had been disabled.


    ¡°Good morning, Mr. Leary,¡± a voice floated in from the close darkness. ¡°I trust you¡¯ve had a good sleep. Ten hours. My, my. Lucky you.¡±


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Leary asked directly, but the voice returned, ignoring the question.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, by the way. We¡¯ve just saved your life. You had shards of your rib cage in your lung. We fixed it, a little, sort of. Not so much fixed as, good enough for right now.¡±


    ¡°Here¡¯s how this will work, Mr. Leary. I will ask questions, you will answer them, and then we will see if you live.¡± A loud clunking sound could be heard, like heavy metal on a table. ¡°You know what the Jaws of Life are, don¡¯t you Mr. Leary? Used for cutting vehicles open after a bad accident. Today, we¡¯re going to use them on you. In fact, we¡¯re going to start by cutting off your cybernetic legs.¡±


    A heavy mechanical crunching sound filled the room, accompanied by a sharp twinge and tug against Leary¡¯s left hip, but no pain.


    ¡°There¡¯s one! Now for number two.¡± A similar sensation was felt as with the left hip, but this time on the right.


    ¡°You¡¯re not great at torture, pal. You¡¯ve just gone and made me lighter. Do you think you might try some pain or something?¡± Leary spoke.


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    ¡°Turn his eyes on,¡± the voice said. Leary¡¯s eyes clicked on to show a bright light above his head and a large mirror on the ceiling directly above him. He saw that his side and chest were sitting wide open. He could see his own beating heart, his deflated lung, and the rest of his insides. His legs were propped up against the wall with the jaws of life sitting beside them. Surgical tubing carrying blood and other fluids were connected to his various parts.


    Leary stared for a horrified second before starting to scream. The truth had flooded into him now. The torture was already done. It was only when the painkillers began to wear off that he¡¯d be able to feel it.


    ¡°Do you see, Mr. Leary?¡± the voice moved from the side of the table to his view. It was Del Peck. He recognized him from the holo images that CURL had shown the team. ¡°Your adventure is just beginning, and I¡¯m the only one with the ability to stop the ride.¡±


    ¡°You dirty son of a bitch!¡± Leary shouted, drips of spittle soaring from his lips.


    ¡°Question number one, Mr. Leary. Why did you attack my people? Question number two. Why did you kill my surgeon? Question number three. Why did Preature not turn the Byun boy over to me? And that¡¯s the big one, Mr. Leary. Why keep the boy, when you could have been paid a million for him?¡±


    Del paced around Leary¡¯s head. ¡°You see, I have my theories but I want to hear what you have to say. He¡¯s a very important boy. It seemed like a very fair deal. It was all very simple. But instead of turning the boy over, you lure and kill my people.


    ¡°The painkillers should be starting to wear off now, Mr. Leary. Are you feeling it yet? No? Soon. You see. Torture is an art. It¡¯s not a science.¡±


    Leary screamed as the throbbing of his massive open wound began to cut through the bodily haze.


    Del snapped on some blue neoprene gloves and began to poke around the chest cavity. Cupping the heart, squeezing the collapsed lung, tracing the edges of the incisions. ¡°How are you doing, Mr. Leary? I bet you could use a drink.¡± With that, Del trickled some ninety percent rubbing alcohol into the sensitive areas of the wound.


    Leary¡¯s breath sputtered as he inhaled sharply in his pain. A pain that was getting worse by the second.


    ¡°Why, Mr. Leary!?¡± Del shouted. ¡°Question number one. Why did you attack my people?¡±


    ¡°Happenstance!¡± Leary shouted back.


    Del, in the throes of violent bliss asked again, ¡°Lies! Now tell me why!¡±


    The pain pulsed through his whole body, tingling through his cheeks and down to his fingertips. ¡°Parts! We wanted parts!¡±


    ¡°What parts?¡±


    ¡°The missing parts! The ones that didn¡¯t get put in the boy!¡±


    ¡°You thought they were in my people? You were so close, Mr. Leary, but you were wrong. Now, my surgeon is dead. Why?¡±


    ¡°To learn where the parts were!¡± Leary cried in agony.


    ¡°Final question, Mr. Leary. Then I promise to end your pain. Why didn¡¯t Preature bring me the boy?¡±


    ¡°Because of the files in his cybernetics! They aren¡¯t complete unless all of the parts are together. It¡¯s been partitioned.¡±


    ¡°Good, Mr. Leary!¡± Del¡¯s face was wild with excitement. Gradius had stored CellarDoor in all of those parts, just as Del had suspected. ¡°Now, you shall have your release!¡±


    A man approached with the jaws of life, and propped them around Leary¡¯s neck.

 8.1

    A white box with a red bow was passed to a young man who placed it into his car and drove it through the city to an abandoned department store.  The box was left with a card at the front door.  Then the young man left.


    The box sat there for a time, until finally Darius came outside and found it.  Flies buzzed around the box, and a slightly sweet pungent odor came through.  A card sat on top emblazoned with an iridescent ¡°D¡±.


    Darius¡¯s imagination ran away from him, presenting all of the worst case scenarios.  He picked up the card with a shaking hand and began to read.


    ¡°Dear Preature,


    Please accept this gift with my profound condolences.


    You have one last chance.  The rest of the Vens have been fired from this job.  Bring me Darius Byun, and all will be forgiven.


    Good day,


    Del Peck¡±


    Preature appeared behind Darius, and received the card from him.


    ¡°I haven¡¯t opened the box yet,¡±  Darius said with the shadow of fear washing over his cybernetic eyes.


    Preature rested a hand on Darius¡¯s shoulder.  ¡°I¡¯ll open it, son.¡±


    Preature bent down sorely, releasing the bow, and lifting the lid to see Leary¡¯s bloodied head sitting in a bed of fresh hydroponic roses.  He stood to full height, removing his glasses, and pinching a thumb and forefinger over the bridge of his nose.  He replaced his glasses, a fist forming from his free hand.  Then he brought the box inside.


    Moments later, the team gathered in their makeshift meeting room.  CURL dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, lips pulled back in disgust and anguish.  Tinker stood stoically silent in the back corner of the room.  Darius sat with Preature next to the box.


    ¡°I, uh¡­¡± Preature started.  ¡°This happened because of me.  Darius had warned us and I kept us there.  This proves to us who we¡¯re dealing with.  We can¡¯t let Del have Darius.  We did the right thing there, at least.¡±


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    ¡°The right thing?¡±  Darius spoke through clenched teeth.  ¡°Not to protect me.  You just want what I have.  My cybernetics, and the files inside; which you¡¯d known about and never mentioned!¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right.  I knew about the files.  How did you learn about them?¡±  Preature asked.


    ¡°The P-Sec that you put down.  He said there are files in the cybernetic parts, for some secret project.¡±


    ¡°Yes, there are.  And I didn¡¯t want you to know, because I didn¡¯t want you to think it¡¯s the only reason we kept you around,¡±  Preature explained.


    ¡°But it is, isn¡¯t it?  What did you think was on the files?¡±


    ¡°Designs for your cybernetics,¡±  Preature answered darkly.  ¡°I could have sold you, kid!  I could have made a mil off of you, but I didn¡¯t because you¡¯re a survivor!  Anyone who¡¯s lived through what you¡¯ve been through deserves a second chance, and I didn¡¯t think Del would have done that for you.¡±


    CURL shouted over them, ¡°Enough!  Both of you!  Preature, you did think there was money in Darius.  Darius, Preature did save you from Del!  So both of you calm down.  Now is not the time.¡±


    ¡°CURL¡¯s right.  I did see money in your cybernetics, and I did wonder about turning you over to Del.  I couldn¡¯t do it.  You deserve better than what he would have done to you,¡±  Preature sat down heavily, favoring his injured side.  Then he raised a hand to CURL to signal that he was done.


    ¡°We were too late.  We could have gotten him if we went right away,¡±  Tinker lamented.  CURL moved over to him.


    ¡°Preature needed your help.  He¡¯d been shot.  We couldn''t do both,¡± she spoke in a  reassuring tone.  ¡°We thought we¡¯d have more time.  We thought we¡¯d have the chance to track him.¡±


    CURL, Darius, Preature and Tinker gathered around Leary.  Though it had been a decidedly short period of time that Darius had known him, he still felt the loss all the same.  It brought him into a moment of silent reflection where he once again met with the grief of losing his father and his old life.  Here amidst these relative strangers, he now felt a sense of family and belonging.


    Darius looked at Preature, who met his gaze.  An unspoken exchange was made between them in that look, and they both understood each other a little bit more in that moment.  A resolve was born between all four of them.  A sense of righteous anger that drove them toward the same conclusion.


    Darius rasped, ¡°We have to finish what we¡¯ve started.¡±


    Preature pointed to Darius, ¡°Tear Del down.¡±


    ¡°Vengeance,¡±  Tinker added.


    ¡°For Leary,¡±  CURL whispered.

 9.0 - Homeostasis

    |  Health: 100%                 |


    |  Body Equilibrium: 16%  |


    |  DPS: 15                         |


    |  Defense: 25                   |


    |  Agility: 13                       |


    |  Perception: 27               |


    |  Intellect: 12                    |


    |  -    -    -    -    -    -    -      |


    |  Arm Holster                   |


    Darius lay face down on an old padded massage table, as Tinker attended to some machinery nearby.


    It had only been a few days since Leary¡¯s death, and the memory was still raw for everyone.  However, some mild sense of levity was beginning to return, and research needed to be done if they were going to learn what made Darius tick.


    ¡°Get comfortable.  This could take a while.¡±  Tinker filled a syringe with some clear liquid and injected it into Darius¡¯s side.


    ¡°[BODY EQUILIBRIUM] 16%, ability slot enabled¡±


    ¡°Hold on, I¡¯ve got a new ability slot.¡±  Darius said.


    ¡°Like with your arm?  Man, this is new ground.  I¡¯ve never seen cybertech that works like this.¡±  Tinker filled another syringe with amber liquid and injected it in the same place.  ¡°What things do you get to choose from this time?¡±


    ¡°Select an ability: Grasshopper - Allows you to jump up to seven feet high;  Spinal Decompression - Allows for the ability to land on your feet with minimal injury from moderate heights¡±


    ¡°Higher jumping or safer landings.¡±  Darius said thoughtfully.


    ¡°What are you going to choose?¡±  Tinker asked.


    ¡°Safer landings.  Spinal Decompression, please.¡±


    ¡°[STATEMENT] Spinal Decompression selected.¡±


    |  Health: 100%                 |


    |  Body Equilibrium: 16%  |


    |  DPS: 15                         |


    |  Defense: 31                   |


    |  Agility: 23                       |


    |  Perception: 27               |


    |  Intellect: 12                    |


    |  -    -    -    -    -    -    -      |


    |  Arm Holster                   |


    |  Spinal Decompression  |


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    ¡°This tech is something else.¡±  Tinker said, while connecting wires to Darius¡¯s chromed spine.


    ¡°Should I jump off the roof to test it out?¡±


    ¡°No!  Don¡¯t tempt fate.¡±  Tinker secured sensors to the flesh of Darius¡¯s back.  ¡°We need you whole if we¡¯re going to pull this off.¡±


    ¡°What exactly is our plan?  CURL hasn¡¯t been able to track Geracht down.  It¡¯s like he¡¯s disappeared off the face of the planet.¡±


    ¡°Well, we need the parts, and the encryption key.  Thanks to the P-Sec Preature interrogated, we know that Del has the key.  I guess we just handle whatever comes first.  Del knows where we are, and has given us his demands.  We don¡¯t know what his timeline is, so we have to act quickly.¡±  Tinker connected the last of the sensors near the base of Darius¡¯s skull.  ¡°There, we should be able to get some readings soon.  This is much easier when you¡¯re awake.¡±


    ¡°What do you need me to do?¡±


    ¡°Just sit tight for now.  You¡¯ll be seeing a mirror image of what I¡¯m doing, soon.¡±  Tinker sat in his swivel chair and rolled it over to the nearby desk.  He typed on the keyboard and in a moment, Darius¡¯s vitals and root directory were displayed on both the screen in front of Tinker and the heads up display in Darius¡¯s cybernetic eyes.


    ¡°What are we looking for?¡±  Darius asked.


    ¡°Anything we¡¯d missed before.  The first time we¡¯d taken a look at your file system, we were also trying to save your life.  So, we don¡¯t have a complete picture of your systems.¡±


    ¡°Thanks for that, by the way.¡±


    Tinker smirked to himself.  ¡°You¡¯re welcome.  Now let¡¯s get into that file system of yours.  CURL upgraded your security, right?¡±


    ¡°Yep.  She says that even she couldn¡¯t get into it now.¡±


    ¡°Hah! That means she installed a backdoor, but don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll be locked up tight against all but the best hackers now.  The new security won¡¯t hinder what we¡¯re doing here.  As long as you¡¯re aware and willing, we¡¯ll be able to explore the system.¡±


    ¡°Okay, what¡¯s next?¡±  Darius asked.


    Tinker typed on the keyboard, eyes focused on the screen.  ¡°Well, now we explore.  I¡¯m looking for anything that might give us a better idea of how your tech works.  What we know so far is that the spine seems to be the core of this setup, not a neural core as is the norm these days.  This is good, because it¡¯s almost like you have a second brain, which is focused on your healing and protection.¡±


    ¡°That explains a lot.  It answers my questions to a certain degree.¡±


    ¡°Simple AI, I¡¯d imagine.  It makes sense, given all that your system is managing.  It would need to have some way to interface with your own brain as well, and I think that¡¯s why it¡¯s connected to your central nervous system.¡±


    ¡°My father must have been working on this for years.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d say so.  Your arms appear to be the earliest of your cybernetics.  Originally installed on someone else.  Does the name Donna Byun mean anything to you?¡±


    ¡°She was my mother.¡±


    ¡°Then these arms used to be hers.¡±  Tinker spoke hesitantly.


    ¡°That¡¯s what Del meant when he saw them.  He said that my father was a sentimental fool.¡±  Darius remembered.


    ¡°Your father was a genius, as far as I¡¯m concerned.  Too bad it skips a generation.¡±  Tinker joked.


    ¡°Hey!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m kidding.  Now hold still.  I¡¯m losing some of the readings when you move.¡±


    Tinker worked on the keyboard for another moment, exploring the file system.


    ¡°I see the operating system files.  Most of them are protected files, so I can¡¯t open them or interact with them in any way.  Let¡¯s check for that cybernetics registry again. No, nothing.  Still no registry.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±  Darius commented on the mirror image within his vision.  ¡°I see a file.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not seeing it on my screen.  The folder is empty.¡±


    ¡°I see it clearly.  It¡¯s called darius.extex¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s an extex multimedia text file.  It could contain almost anything.  Why don¡¯t I see it here?¡±  Tinker pulled out an optical data cable, capable of carrying video and audio data via light.  He plugged it from Darius¡¯s spine, directly into his monitor.  ¡°Whoa, I see it.  That¡¯s some fancy trick to hide a file.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s open it.¡±  Darius said.


    Tinker tries to open the file, but a password prompt pops up.  ¡°Password protected, damn.  We¡¯ll need to get CURL to crack it.¡±


    ¡°Wait!  Try my mother¡¯s name.  Try Donna Byun, upper camel case, and with no spaces.¡±


    Tinker typed it in, but it failed.  He tried it again using numbers in place of some letters, but it failed again.  Then he tried DONNA, all caps.  The file opens, displaying a video of Gradius Byun sitting in a workshop.

 9.1

    ¡°Darius, my son.  I have so much to tell you.  If you¡¯ve found this, it means that my plan has probably failed.¡±  Gradius swallowed hard.


    ¡°I¡¯ve put much time and effort into this plan, and I need you to pay careful attention if there is to be any chance of success at all.


    ¡°It is rumored in the upper echelons of the corporate government that the North American Union military has been using mind harvesting technology to not only kill enemies of the state, but also to download their minds.  To those minds, seconds feel like hours.  This allows officials to interrogate prisoners in a matter of seconds.


    ¡°Del Peck has been creating a compression technology called CellarDoor, which would be used by the corporate government to harvest loyal minds and merge them into a single overmind.  Think about it.  All of that knowledge, stored in one powerful mind.  It could be used to change the balance of power in the world.


    ¡°In fact, that¡¯s what I intend to use it for.  CellarDoor has been stored in the cybernetics that I¡¯ve installed into you.  It¡¯s the only remaining copy.


    ¡°I have given CellarDoor a rudimentary AI so that it will be able to navigate the deep web.  In doing so, it will seek out other AIs and absorb their knowledge, but culling their personalities in favor of its own.


    ¡°Think about it, Darius.  A superintelligent merged AI.  One with the intellect and desire to help humanity¡­ to lead humanity.  It would replace governments.  It would end wars, and guide resource distribution to end world hunger.  It would improve technology for the betterment of all humankind!  If everyone is happy, there is no need for struggle.  Imagine a world where machines do all of the hard labor and everyone is able to pursue their own dreams at their leisure.  I¡¯m talking about a Utopia, Darius!


    ¡°Your mother and I made a pledge years ago.  We would end corporate war.  We would make the world a better place.  Well, humanity has proven that it¡¯s unable to govern itself.  This AI would be able to do far more for humanity than any person ever could.  It has no selfish desires, no greed, no ambition beyond making humanity happy and healthy and fulfilled.


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    ¡°My plan, Darius, is to use you as a mule to sneak CellarDoor out of the country and onto the deep web.  You and I would finally be able to have a life together, in a new world; a happier world.  Where people like your mother won¡¯t be taken from us.  Where people are cared for.


    ¡°But, since it appears that I¡¯m no longer with you¡­ All I need you to do, son, is decrypt CellarDoor with this key.¡±  Gradius held up a memory key.


    ¡°Then, I need you to push CellarDoor into the deep web, and guide it to an AI.  Once it has absorbed enough data, move it to the web.  It will take care of the rest.


    Son.  I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m not there to help you, but I¡¯ve left some guidance for you to find. I love you, son.¡±  Then the video ended.


    ¡°Shit.¡±  Tinker said, then he looked at Darius.  ¡°Those files aren¡¯t design files after all.  They¡¯re for something much bigger.¡±


    ¡°His plan.  It could work.  It could tear down all corporate and political power.  Remove the influence of wealth.¡±  Darius thought aloud.


    ¡°At what cost?  You can¡¯t just change the world overnight and expect it all to go smoothly.  People will rebel.  The rich and powerful won¡¯t take it.¡±  Tinker raised a hand to his forehead.


    ¡°Every revolution has its casualties.¡±  Darius turned his head to look at Tinker.  Surprised to see that the expression on his face was one of horror.  ¡°It¡¯s a brilliant solution¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the death of liberty.  Putting an AI in charge of humanity will destroy all that humanity is.¡±


    ¡°It will free humanity to be the best it can be.  Didn¡¯t you hear?  It will focus technology to free up human time to do what they desire.¡±


    ¡°Necessity is what brings the greatest creativity, Darius.  Without conflict, without problems, we fall to our own vices.  We end up slovenly and useless.  No longer challenged to the point of making anything.¡±


    ¡°Freeing us to create!  To ask questions and find solutions!  It doesn¡¯t mean there are no problems.¡±


    Tinker shook his head.  ¡°I don¡¯t know, man.  It feels wrong to me.¡±


    Darius sat up, wires and sensors pulling from his body and the monitor going dark.  ¡°I don¡¯t understand why.¡±

 9.2

    Preature and CURL sat silently as they watched the video of Gradius Byun telling the story of his new world power.  After the video ended, they remained silent for a few minutes more.


    ¡°It could work.  This could change the world.  Especially once it hits the central web,¡± CURL said.  ¡°All major systems are on it.  Corporations, government, banks.  It could really work.¡±


    ¡°It could, but do we want it to get that far?¡±  Preature responded.


    ¡°My point exactly,¡±  Tinker stood up and walked to Preature.  ¡°This technology is unprecedented.  Sure we already have AI, but we don¡¯t have anything as smart as what we¡¯re talking about here.¡±


    ¡°The world is going to hell.  This could bring the utopia that my father dreamt of.  Think of what the AI would do for us all.  Preature, no more working out of this old store.  Tinker, you could pursue your dream of working in medicine.  CURL, no more kids in the streets the way you grew up.  The AI would eliminate money altogether.  We could live in a world without need,¡±  Darius insisted, looking to CURL for support.


    ¡°What about free choice?  Free choice is a gift.  We could lose that,¡±  Preature looked around the room.  ¡°We could lose who we are.  The AI could take more than we¡¯re willing to give.  Not just from the rich and powerful, but from everyone.¡±


    ¡°It could be more freedom of choice.  It opens you up to choose in times where life would have otherwise chosen for you,¡±  CURL said, affirming her stance.


    ¡°Maybe¡­ if it works.  If it really culls the personality traits of absorbed AIs like Gradius said,¡±  Tinker added.  ¡°But if it doesn¡¯t work¡­ we end up with an evil AI overlord.¡±


    Preature nodded in agreement.


    ¡°Look, you¡¯ve seen my father¡¯s work.  It¡¯s a part of me here, and now.  You¡¯ve seen how precise he is.  He wouldn¡¯t have taken this lightly.¡±  Darius walked to the middle of the room, looking from face to face.  ¡°We can¡¯t let Del get his hands on it again.  The NAU would use it to take over the world for themselves.  They would rewrite it to be in their image.¡±


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    ¡°You¡¯re not wrong,¡±  Preature agreed.


    ¡°I still can¡¯t get on board with this,¡±  Tinker shook his head.


    ¡°I can.  I grew up eating from the trash and sleeping in alleys.  This could end that for everyone,¡±  CURL fired a look at Tinker.


    ¡°We could have a better world than we have right now.  Think about it.  An AI controlling everything, giving us all the freedom that we¡¯ve always craved.  It could bring humanity to the next level.  The only thing left to strive for is improvement itself,¡±  Darius moved next to CURL.


    Preature stood up.  ¡°I¡¯m willing to give it a shot, but I¡¯m still hesitant.  This could go badly for us all.  There has to be a kill switch of some kind.¡±


    ¡°There will be.  CURL will help to make sure of it.  First, we need the missing cybernetics from Geracht and the encryption key from Del.  Or all of this means nothing,¡±  Darius looked hopefully at Preature and Tinker.


    ¡°This is bigger than avenging Leary.  We¡¯re talking about avenging everyone crushed under the heel of corporate power,¡±  Preature gave Tinker a sideways glance.


    Tinker shook his head again.  ¡°No.  We¡¯re being too cavalier.  There are too many unknowns.  Too many variables.  We¡¯re deciding the fate of all humanity, and we¡¯re making this decision based on hate for corporations more than love for the freedoms that we have.  Preature¡­  we have to delete these files somehow.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m willing to try it,¡±  Preature said reassuringly.


    Tinker looked to the floor, then at Preature, ¡°This isn¡¯t right.¡±


    ¡°Yes, it is,¡±  Preature rumbled.  ¡°All human power is corrupt.  It¡¯s time to make it right.  Take the power out of human hands.  Look, either way, we need to get the parts and decrypt the files.  We can¡¯t delete the files or use them until we have all the parts and the encryption key.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡±  Tinker accepted with deep hesitation.  ¡°What¡¯s our plan?¡±


    Preature pointed to CURL and Darius.  ¡°Get back on the search for Geracht.  Tinker and I will work on a plan to get back at Del.  It¡¯s been days, and he hasn¡¯t gotten a response from us about Darius yet.  I don¡¯t know what his retaliation will be.  We need to be ready for anything.¡±

 10.0 - Antithesis

    |  Health: 100%                 |


    |  Body Equilibrium: 18%  |


    |  DPS: 15                         |


    |  Defense: 31                   |


    |  Agility: 23                       |


    |  Perception: 27               |


    |  Intellect: 19                    |


    |  -    -    -    -    -    -    -      |


    |  Arm Holster                   |


    |  Spinal Decompression  |


    The sun faded to brown behind the haze, dust, and ash of the SOLA outskirts.  The winds blew in from the east, carrying all manner of particulate matter and trash with it.  Geracht walked rigidly against the wind, making his way towards nothing in particular.  An army of ghosts stalked behind him, but he no longer had the spirit or the power to run.


    Days had passed since the events at the abandoned construction yard, and the storm within him still raged.  He had torn his tracer free on the first day, his chestplate off the second day; and on this day, his faceplate, flesh and all.  The whole time, he was plagued by the ghosts.  Followed and tormented by them.  Reminded of his failures.


    He held his daughter¡¯s bloodied teddy bear in one hand.  Her ghost and that of his wife led the maelstrom behind him.  He refused to turn around.  He refused to look.


    What little flesh remained was dry and cracking, his metal scraped against the silt and dirt that crusted inside of it.  He fell to his knees, but still crawled forward, trying to escape the ghosts.  Those shadows from the war, from the street, from his job, from his home.  A thousand voices were calling his name.


    What little muscle remained in his body was burning, the cybernetics became less reliable in their long exposure to the elements.  He continued to crawl in his malfunction, sinking lower, deeper, closer to the ash and debris that littered the ground beneath him.  He coughed and sputtered, his cybernetic lungs unable to keep up with the task of cleansing the air.  Then he finally collapsed, face down in the dirt.


    The ghosts closed in around his still form; speaking his name, demanding retribution.


    ¡°I¡­ can¡¯t,¡±  Geracht spoke through the dust.  ¡°I can¡¯t give you what you want.  I have already given all of myself to metal.  There¡¯s nothing left to give, but my life.¡±


    ¡°Geracht...,¡±  they called.  ¡°Geracht.¡±


    They reached for him with cold incorporeal hands.  Hounded by shadows, he clasped at his parts, tearing pieces from his body.  ¡°What can I give you¡­that I haven¡¯t already given?¡±


    A shot rang out in the distance and a bullet struck Geracht¡¯s shoulder hard, momentarily knocking his shoulder deeper into the dirt.  He pushed himself painfully to his feet.  The ghosts swirled around, and he suddenly recognized a team of Del¡¯s elite P-Sec officers cresting the horizon behind him.  He roared in rage and charged at the enclosing group.


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    He threw his sparking metal shoulder into the closest P-Sec, slamming him down into the dirt with a sickening crack.  The man¡¯s spine broke under the compression of the hit.  He groaned and screamed that he couldn''t move his legs.  Then Geracht rose quickly to his feet and stomped on the man¡¯s head to silence him.


    The other P-Sec officers fired a hail of shells and bullets at Geracht, but he had already expanded his cybernetic forearms into shields just in time to cover the exposed mechanics of his chest.  Then he formed one arm shield into a blade and drove it down crosswise through the neck and collarbone of another officer.


    Using the momentum of the strike, he spun around and tripped another P-Sec, sending her hard to the ground, where he smashed his shield into the softer armor between her helmet and body armor.  Her windpipe closed and split, bleeding into her throat.


    Three shotguns tore through the air at once as Geracht turned his back to catch the fragments in the metal plating there.  The three men fired again, standing closely together.  Geracht turned with the blade extended to full length, severing through the first man¡¯s head, the second man¡¯s neck, and burying it into the third man¡¯s unarmored stomach.


    Suddenly, his left arm locked up from the dirt and grime, forcing him to hold the shield at an awkward angle.  He fell to the ground as his balance was thrown off by the locked arm.


    ¡°Geracht!¡±  one of the remaining officers called.  ¡°Stop!  Nobody else has to get hurt.¡±


    Geracht slowed down, looking to the last two officers as they closed in on him with plasma rifles and EMP grenades at the ready.  ¡°Then drop your weapons!¡±


    ¡°You know we can¡¯t do that,¡±  The man responded.  ¡°Just retract the shield and blade, and we¡¯ll take you back to Del.  No problems.¡±


    ¡°Del,¡± the ghosts whispered.


    ¡°Del,¡± he spoke in a hushed voice, overcoming his locking tech and rising to his knees.  He remembered the years of service to Del Peck.  The time away from home.  The time he had been at work instead of protecting his family.  ¡°That¡¯s right.  I was working that day.  If I had been home¡­¡±


    In the decades since that day, he had replaced so much of himself in an effort to remove the pain.  In his craving to become something other than Geracht, he had forgotten so much of himself, of everything.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t hear that, Geracht.  What are you saying?¡±


    ¡°Del,¡± he whispered to the ghosts.  ¡°Will that make you leave me?¡±


    The ghosts of his daughter and wife stood before him, and started walking in the direction of the city.


    ¡°Wait!  Not you!  Don¡¯t leave.  Don¡¯t leave me!  Not again!¡±  His mind was addled, confused.  He feared the ghosts, but watching his daughter and wife walking away tugged at something deep within.  ¡°Only you.  Only the both of you.  Stay with me.  I want the others to go.¡±


    The two remaining officers looked at each other and then back at Geracht, misunderstanding the situation and only half-hearing what he¡¯d been saying.  ¡°Okay, buddy.  Don¡¯t worry, we won¡¯t leave you.¡±


    ¡°Blood,¡±  the ghosts whispered.


    ¡°Blood,¡±  Geracht repeated.  Then he rushed at the closest P-Sec, shield still locked in place.  A plasma blast narrowly grazed his ear as he cracked the man across the face with the shield and drove his blade up through the armpit of the armor and into the man¡¯s heart.


    He blocked three more plasma shots with the man¡¯s body before tossing it to the side and slamming into the final P-Sec.  He pressed the blade into the chest of the body armor with his full strength.  The armor began to bend and split beneath the weight and power of Geracht, until it finally gave way.  The final P-Sec gurgled with wide eyes as blood poured from his mouth.


    Geracht stood again with no small effort and pulled the blade from the dying elite.  He looked off to his wife and daughter walking back towards SOLA city, and began to follow them.  The rest of the spirits resumed their pace behind him.

 10.1

    Darius stood atop the broken escalator that led from the department store¡¯s second floor to its first. With a running leap, he flew over the steps, landing on the tile below with full force. It was a move that would have hurt him badly before, but now that he had his new upgrade, he landed without any discomfort; his legs and spine absorbing the impact with ease.


    CURL sat crosswise in a comfy chair, legs dangling carelessly over the armrest. A laptop on her knees, and a cookie in her hand. She didn¡¯t even look up when Darius stuck the landing with a joyous shout.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, that¡¯s great, Darius,¡± She said, unaffected.


    Preature¡¯s jukebox was playing; filling the open first floor of the department store with reverberating music.


    Preature and Tinker worked in a room on the second floor where they practiced some SOLA-Med procedures in preparation for a future confrontation with Geracht.


    Darius went up the escalator again, and jumped down once more.


    ¡°You¡¯re like a little kid sometimes.¡± CURL says, still focused on her screen.


    ¡°We¡¯re almost the same age!¡± Darius called down to her as he took another jump.


    ¡°I¡¯m three years older than you. And look what you¡¯re doing. There¡¯s no guessing here who is more like a kid.¡± CURL retorted.


    ¡°I¡¯m training myself not to be afraid of jumping from this height anymore. This is very serious work.¡±


    ¡°Well, you¡¯d be more convincing if you weren¡¯t having so much fun doing it.¡± She smiled.


    In the other room, Preature taught Tinker a technique for disabling the power of a highly cybered individual such as Geracht.


    ¡°You need to find the primary neural link.¡± Preature said, pointing to a section of a holo-projected body. ¡°You¡¯d imagine that it might be this one here, but in fact, it would be buried much further down. Remember, the neural link from the first surgery will be unchanged, but other links may be built on top.


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    ¡°If we can take him down with EMPs, then it¡¯ll be up to you and I to do this. Disable the primary neural link, and the rest will cascade. His cybernetics will become dead weight.¡±


    Tinker nodded with a smile. ¡°Had you done this before when you were a SOLA-Med?¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡± Preature smiled. ¡°But maybe it¡¯ll happen this time.¡±


    Beneath their feet, in the sublevel of the building, a wire was being cut.


    A voice whispered into a communicator. ¡°Network hijacked. Their security system is ours.¡±


    ¡°Confirmed.¡± A voice responded. ¡°Teams Alpha and Disco, get into position.¡±


    Along the edge of the building, a team of tactical P-Sec Infiltrators filed against the wall, awaiting their signal. Another team did the same by a door on the other side of the building. Combat drones hovered silently at the windows and exits.


    More Infiltrators scaled the side of the building to the roof and waited at that exit.


    ¡°In position.¡± Each team radioed in.


    ¡°Cue Del.¡± The team lead ordered over the radio.


    Within the building, CURL¡¯s screen flickered black and then played a live combat drone video feed of the Infiltrators at all the exits.


    ¡°Uh, hey everyone! Get in here, now!¡± She shouted, sitting up straight in her chair.


    Darius, Tinker, and Preature all rushed in and gathered around her screen. It flicks from one drone cam to the next. First, they saw the roof, then the west entrance, then the main entrance, a series of windows, and then the window of their current room, target beaded directly on CURL.


    ¡°What do we do?¡± Darius asked in a panic.


    ¡°We wait and see what happens.¡± Preature answered.


    ¡°We can¡¯t handle that many.¡± Tinker looked out the window straight at the combat drone.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t the security catch this?¡± CURL pulled her phone out, furiously checking the security status. It all looked like it was working. ¡°They broke in. They have control of our security, turrets and all.¡±


    ¡°Hello Preature.¡± Del¡¯s voice came over the feed. ¡°I trust you got my note. I believe we¡¯ve had a misunderstanding. You see, when I said turn Darius over, I meant RIGHT NOW. You¡¯ve forced my hand, and I don¡¯t like having my hand forced. Turn Darius over RIGHT NOW, or we will come in and get him. Please, confirm yes or no to the combat drone outside your window.¡±


    Preature turned and moved to the window, hands in the air. He signaled the team to move out of view of the window with the slight twitch of his fingers. Then he stood for a second, giving the others time to move. The drone shifted its target to Preature. Then his armature shoved a gun into his hand, and he shot the drone down.


    ¡°The answer is no!¡± He shouts.

 11.0 - Crisis

    |  Health: 100%                 |


    |  Body Equilibrium: 20%  |


    |  DPS: 15                         |


    |  Defense: 31                   |


    |  Agility: 24                       |


    |  Perception: 27               |


    |  Intellect: 19                    |


    |  -    -    -    -    -    -    -      |


    |  Arm Holster                   |


    |  Spinal Decompression  |


    Windows shattered as combat drones fired through and entered the building.  The exits were breached by the waiting teams, spidering their way through the building.  Preature, Tinker, CURL, and Darius were blocked into the room now.


    ¡°We can¡¯t take the main exits, they¡¯re full of P-Sec, and the turrets would fire on us.¡±   CURL shouted as Preature approached.


    ¡°Then what are our options?¡±  Preature asked, arming himself with a second handgun.


    ¡°Windows, or second floor.¡±  She responded.


    Tinker looked across the large room, past the shelving units and saw a group of Infiltrators rounding the corners towards them.  ¡°They¡¯re coming!¡±  Shots fired, just missing Tinker¡¯s head, as he pivoted and dropped down.


    Darius prepped the gun in his arm.  A trio of drones came through the window that Preature had just shot out.


    ¡°More! Coming through the window!¡±  Preature called, shooting one drone down and sending another into a spiral.  The third fired armor piercing rounds, tearing through Preature¡¯s jacket and barely missing his arm.  ¡°To the escalator!¡±


    The team retreated to the broken escalator.  Tinker looked at CURL.  ¡°Could you reclaim our security through the old ethernet hookup?¡±


    ¡°I can try.¡±  She ran up to the second floor.


    Drones patrolled the wide open space of the department store, firing as soon as they recognized her.  She dodged shots, running between shelving racks and making her way to the offices.


    Preature lobbed EMP grenades, taking out a swath of drones before following CURL.  Tinker was still unarmed, and headed to the armory with Darius.  CURL crawled under a desk, grabbing the ethernet cable and plugging it into her hardware.  Her eyes began to glow as she navigated the network.


    ¡°I see the hacker!  But they¡¯re locked in tight.  They¡¯ve blocked me out of most of the systems.¡±  CURL¡¯s glowing eyes shifted back and forth.


    ¡°We¡¯ll try to buy you some time, but if this fails, we have to run.¡±  Preature frowned and headed off to the armory with Tinker and Darius.  Darius had thrown on some body armor and grabbed a second handgun.  Tinker zipped up an armored jumpsuit and took one of Leary¡¯s submachine guns.  Preature loaded up on EMP and frag grenades.


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    ¡°You ready for this?¡±  Preature looked at Tinker and Darius.


    ¡°Ready as I¡¯ll ever be.¡±  Tinker responded.


    Darius nodded through the thumping in his chest.  ¡°The escalator will be a choke point.  We can use that to our advantage.¡±


    ¡°My thoughts exactly.¡±  Preature rumbled.


    They walked together out to the shop floor, where they each took cover with a full view of the escalator.  Nothing came up.  Nothing moved.  Then suddenly, they heard a sound, like a full tin can rolling across the floor.


    ¡°Down!¡±  Darius yelled, seeing a flashbang grenade come to a rest against a shelving unit.


    A blinding, deafening moment later, Darius opened his eyes to the sight of Preature firing at the escalator.   The shots sounded like muffled thuds in his ringing ears.  Despite the sense of dread filling him, Darius rose and fired both of his guns at the encroaching intruders on the steps, killing one and hitting another in the chestplate.  Darius stopped to reload his pistol, and Tinker took the opportunity to fire the SMG into the growing crowd of Infiltrators.  It wasn¡¯t enough.


    The shelves around the trio burst into shreds as gunfire reduced them to scrap.  Darius, Tinker, and Preature fell back to other shelving units, sharing glances of uncertainty, then firing again at their attackers.  Preature looked at the mass of people climbing over bodies on the broken escalator.  He grabbed a pair of frag grenades and tossed them to the stairs where they exploded, destroying the escalators and sending Infiltrators down to the first floor.


    ¡°There goes one of our escape routes!¡±  Darius shouted.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a very good one anyway!¡±  Preature retorted.


    In the offices, CURL focused her full attention on trying to regain control of the building security.  An intense heat began growing within her.  She started to sweat.  ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±  She wondered.  ¡°No!¡±  She realized that she was being fed viruses through her connection, and her cybernetics were overheating.  She knew that she would burn out if she stayed connected, but if she was to let go now she¡¯d lose everything.  She tore the cable from her hardware and ran to meet with the others.


    ¡°I can¡¯t get security back!¡±  She yelled.  ¡°We¡¯ve got to go!¡±


    Preature waved for Tinker and Darius to go ahead, just as another volley of gunfire destroyed their cover.


    ¡°Where did that come from?¡±  Tinker looked up to see that nobody was coming up from the destroyed escalator, but the Infiltrators from the roof had arrived instead.  He ran for the offices, but was torn down by the explosive blast of gunfire.


    Bleeding on the floor, Tinker looked down at his stomach.  The blood was black.  From years of training, he knew what this meant.  He only had moments left to live.  He gazed at a shocked Darius.  ¡°Darius¡­ don¡¯t¡­ use¡­ the AI¡­¡±  He pleaded.


    Darius watched Tinker¡¯s eyes roll into the back of his head.  Then a heavy hand grabbed Darius¡¯s back and pushed him forward.


    ¡°It¡¯s too late for Tinker.  We have to go!¡±  Preature shouted, covering Darius¡¯s escape with his own body.  Ear shattering gunfire split the air as bullets hammered into Preature¡¯s armored trench coat.  Three shots finally tore through the armor, penetrating through Preature¡¯s neck, chest, and arm.  He fell to his knees, then slammed forward onto his face.  Blood pooling around his neck and head.


    ¡°CURL!¡±  Darius shouted as she met him in the hallway.  ¡°Tinker and Preature are dead!¡±


    ¡°The window!¡±  CURL yelled, catching a bullet in her shoulder.


    Darius turned to see a drone and shot it down before it could release a volley of gunfire.


    He ran to the large window in a room down the hall.  The glass had already been broken by combat drones.  He looked down, it led to an alley next to the building.  ¡°Grab onto my back!¡±  He called to CURL.


    She grabbed onto him painfully; slick blood now running from her shoulder.  Then he jumped out the window.


    SOLA-Med sirens cut through the air as their IFVs descended towards the roof.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡±  Darius asked CURL.


    ¡°No, but we have to get going.¡±  She answered, letting go of his back.


    His legs and spine had handled the full impact, even with her holding on.  The wound in her shoulder had begun to tear with the weight of their landing.


    Without a second thought, Darius and CURL ran from the scene.

 11.1

    Del watched a series of holo panels showing the various drone and body cams that still remained active.  He saw the body of Tinker and smiled.  Then he saw Preature being shot down, and his smile broadened.  Then he lost sight of Darius, and the smile faded.


    ¡°No!  Stay on Darius.  Don¡¯t lose him!¡±  He looked furiously from holo to holo.  ¡°Check the rooms!¡±


    Finally, he saw Darius and CURL on one of the drone cams.  He watched as CURL took a bullet and Darius shot the drone.  ¡°Damn!¡±  He shouted.  ¡°Southeast offices, now!¡±  But when the Infiltrators arrived, nobody was there.  ¡°They¡¯re still here somewhere!  Keep looking!¡±


    Del¡¯s phone began to ring, it was the NAU agent.  He picked it up.


    ¡°Del.  I expect you¡¯ve made the proper progress with CellarDoor.  How about we schedule a demo?  How does three days from today sound?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t have it yet,¡±  Del admitted hesitantly.


    ¡°Then get it.  Three days, Peck,¡±  she hung up the phone.


    Del brought a thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose and walked away from the holos to look out the window once more.


    He was not accustomed to failure.  This had been a string of letdowns unlike any that he had seen before.  At least his suspicions had been correct.  He had bet that Preature wouldn¡¯t leave his HQ.  Even after the incident with the head.


    The holos came alive with new activity.  ¡°SOLA-Med is here!  Should we fire?¡±


    ¡°No, no.  Keep them on our side.  Get out of there.  We¡¯re done.¡±  Del answered.  ¡°Get back out in the streets and look for Darius.  The bounty has just been increased.¡±


    Del turned the holos off.


    First, he had let Darius go.  His head surgeon was murdered.  Then his P-Sec officers were attacked by Geracht, who then went AWOL.  Then he lost Darius again.  All while the North American Union had been breathing down his neck.  Something had to give, and soon.


    He tapped the screen of his phone.  ¡°Gene.  Any word from the team searching for Geracht?¡±


    ¡°None, sir,¡±  Gene responded.  ¡°They¡¯re assumed to be missing in action, sir.¡±


    Del hung up the call, bringing a hand to his mouth.  Geracht was still rogue.  He''d likely killed the team.


    What a fucking mess.


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    On the other side of town.  CURL and Darius sat on the rooftop of a large skyscraper.  Fluorescent light reflected off the trails their tears have left behind.  They were silent, watching the ever-shifting lights on SOLA Tower.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to find him,¡±  Darius spoke softly.  ¡°I have to find Del.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you still want to do this?¡±  CURL asked.


    ¡°Dad, Leary, Tinker, Preature¡­ They all died trying to make this happen.¡±


    ¡°You could die, too.¡±


    ¡°I could,¡±  Darius wiped his cheek with the back of his hand.


    ¡°We could just walk away.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t do that.¡±


    ¡°How can I help?¡±


    Darius let out a small laugh, ¡°I have no idea.¡±


    ¡°Alright.  So, you get Del.  Then what do you do about Geracht?¡±


    ¡°Still, no idea.  Del has to go down, and it¡¯ll be easier to deal with Geracht if Del isn¡¯t after me any more.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true, but then you still have to find a way to disable a cybered up monster.¡±


    Darius looked up to the pointed top of the tower.  A feeling of sobriety washed over him.  ¡°Well.  Whatever happens, I¡¯m ready.  Live or die.¡±


    CURL finally turned her head to regard him.  ¡°For what it¡¯s worth.  I hope you live.¡±


    They both looked back up at the tower again, it¡¯s colors faded from red and white to purple and then to blue.


    ¡°The city looks beautiful from up here.  I guess that¡¯s why rich people live high up.


    ¡°When I was little, I used to look up at the high buildings and wonder what it would be like to be up there.  Never having to wonder where your next meal is coming from, being warm in winter, being cool in summer.  Now, I know that the top isn¡¯t always the best place to be.


    ¡°Darius.  You don¡¯t have to do this.  You don¡¯t have to throw your life away.  You could be happy down on the ground like the rest of us.  Sometimes ground level gives you everything you need.  Maybe look around a little, and see what you have, and be okay with it.¡±


    ¡°Funny thing to say to me after losing all but one of my friends,¡±  Darius retorted.


    ¡°I lost them, too.  Look, I just don¡¯t want to lose you as well.  Don¡¯t get sucked into some stupid idea of what life is supposed to be.  Sometimes, where you are is okay.¡±


    ¡°Are you asking me not to do this?¡±


    ¡°In a way.  Maybe I¡¯m asking you not to throw your life away.¡±


    Darius stared out over the city.  ¡°I don¡¯t want to lose you either.  You¡¯ve been a good friend to me.  I¡¯d probably be talking to you the same way if our roles were reversed.


    ¡°But this is something I have to do.  For my father.  For Leary, Tinker, and Preature.  For you, and for me.  Because Del will never stop hunting us.¡±


    ¡°Alright.  Well¡­ maybe you¡¯re right,¡±  CURL wiped a new tear from her cheek.  ¡°Just¡­ don¡¯t lose yourself to revenge like Del.  Don¡¯t turn into him in your fight to bring him down.¡±


    Darius thought on her words.  She¡¯d touched something deep inside that he hadn¡¯t felt since before the surgery.  In that moment, he felt like himself again.  Warmth spread from inside, radiating through his body.  He looked her in the eye, and nodded.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best.¡±

 12.0 - Catharsis

    |  Health: 100%                 |


    |  Body Equilibrium: 25%  |


    |  DPS: 25                         |


    |  Defense: 51                   |


    |  Agility: 24                       |


    |  Perception: 27               |


    |  Intellect: 20                    |


    |  -    -    -    -    -    -    -      |


    |  Arm Holster                   |


    |  Spinal Decompression  |


    ¡°[BODY EQUILIBRIUM] 25%, two ability slots enabled¡±


    ¡°Select one ability:  Signal Disruption - Allows the ability to send an electrical charge into a system in order to pause it for a time;  Melee Combat - Improves combat prowess with melee weapons;  Gecko - Enables charged particles in fingertips and feet to stick to surfaces, allowing for climbing on walls and ceilings;  EMP Shielding - Ability to disrupt EMP¡¯s impact on cybernetics;¡±


    In the days following Darius had been waiting for this.  Some new abilities to help him in his attempt to infiltrate SaeSyn.  ¡°I choose Signal Disruption, and Gecko.¡±


    ¡°Did it happen?¡±  CURL asked.


    ¡°Yeah, it happened at 25%.  It¡¯s given me some choices that I really needed.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s convenient,¡±  CURL said with a tentative smile.


    ¡°It is.  Oddly enough, I think the system AI is offering me abilities based on recent events.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± she furrowed her brow.  ¡°Does that mean tonight¡¯s the night?¡±


    ¡°Yes.  Tonight, I¡¯m breaking into SaeSyn¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want me to come with you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure.  Your shoulder is still in bad shape.¡±


    She nodded, but wasn¡¯t convinced.  ¡°Fine.¡±


    |  Health: 100%                 |


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    |  Body Equilibrium: 25%  |


    |  DPS: 25                         |


    |  Defense: 51                   |


    |  Agility: 34                       |


    |  Perception: 27               |


    |  Intellect: 25                    |


    |  -    -    -    -    -    -    -      |


    |  Arm Holster                   |


    |  Spinal Decompression  |


    |  Signal Disruption           |


    |  Gecko                            |


    ¡ª    ¡ª    ¡ª


    Darius hid in the shadows of the building across from SaeSyn, watching the neon glow reflected against its dark glass sides.  A whisper of danger hovered in the air as a guard locked the front door and headed off to do his rounds.


    Darius took this opportunity to move to the doors and use his new ability to disrupt the digital signal to the locking mechanism.  He opened the door silently.


    Just like a shadow, Geracht watched from the alleyway, silent and damaged nearly beyond recognition.  He didn¡¯t see Darius for who he was.  All he saw now were the ghosts, and an opportunity to follow.


    Darius entered the building.  He slipped along the wall to his right, and pressed his hands against the wall.  He climbed up the sheer wall to the security camera and disabled it.  He did this with the other cameras in the area as well.  Moments later, security came to investigate the cameras.


    Darius hung from the ceiling and watched as the security guards argued with each other over next steps. He entered the security room and dropped to the floor.  Investigating the computer system, he found access to the communications grid, and shut it down.


    Then he used the camera feeds to find the maintenance room.  Exactly what he needed to find.  He proceeded from the security room across the ceiling and down a hallway to the maintenance room.  Dropping down to the floor, he disrupts the lock on the door, and enters.  A massive electrical panel sat in front of him.  He quickly opened it, then shut off the main power with the turn of a large lever.  The building went dark, except for some emergency lights running on a backup generator.


    ¡°Time to find Del,¡±  he whispered to himself, not knowing that Geracht was following behind, carving his way through the guards that remained.


    Darius forced the elevator door open and climbed into the empty shaft, hands and feet slipping a little on the dust and dirt caked on the inside.  It was dark in the shaft.  The only light have through in small slits between the elevator door seams.  A drone patrolled around the inner shaft, slowly hovering up and down within.  Darius waited for it to become visible in a small razor width of light before firing his armature gun and taking the drone out.


    Geracht watched as the lights flickered out, and made his way to the stairs, knowing the elevators would be inoperable.  He began the long climb upward, killing every guard and destroying every security drone in his path.  His flesh still burned, his metal still malfunctioned, but his will was unbreakable.  He¡¯d tear his way through the entire building if he had to.


    Darius continued his crawl up the elevator shaft, working his way to the seventy-seventh floor.  Only one thing was on his mind, vengeance.


    As he reached the top, he pulled the elevator shaft doors open and climbed out into the hallway.


    A pair of lights were all that illuminated the hallway under emergency power.  A dim shaft of neon light could be seen coming from under Del¡¯s office door, broken only by the occasional passing of feet.


    Darius stopped for a number of moments to allow himself to recover from the long climb.  Even with cybernetics, it was a tiring trek.  He steeled himself, moving to the office door, pistol in hand, armature gun readied.

 12.1

    Darius opened the office door.  A fateful air filled his cybernetic lungs as the rush of adrenaline entered his system.


    ¡°Del Peck!¡±  he shouted, pointing his guns at the man.


    Del stood at his window, holding a glass of bourbon.  Facing the glow of the city; he only regarded Darius¡¯s reflection.  A look of smug relief crossed his face.


    ¡°Darius Byun.  You¡¯ve been¡­ evasive,¡±  Del continued to stare out the window.  He took a sip of his drink.  ¡°Until now, that is.  You came at a good time.  The NAU wants a demo of CellarDoor tomorrow,¡± he held the memory chip containing the encryption key.  ¡°We need to get those files out of you.¡±


    ¡°I came here to end this,¡±  Darius gritted his teeth, walking cautiously to the middle of the room.


    ¡°Of course you did.  I¡¯ve killed your friends, and now you¡¯ve got a misguided notion that you can stop me.  Though I have to admit that you¡¯ve done well in getting here.¡±


    Darius squinted.  Something felt wrong in his gut.  ¡°What are you doing?  You¡¯re stalling.¡±


    ¡°I was waiting for Geracht.¡±


    Just as Del spoke his name, Geracht stepped in through the door frame.


    Del finally turned around, pocketing the encryption key and then pointing a heavy pistol at Darius.  ¡°Geracht.  A little worse for wear, aren¡¯t you?  It¡¯s about fucking time you showed up.  Such a fortuitous turn of events.  Shall we get started?¡±


    Geracht stopped in his tracks.  Confusion muddled his thoughts as voices spoke to him from every direction.  The ghosts of his family, his neighbors, his victims, and his old war buddies filled the room, leaving a gap between him and Del.  The Byun boy stood to the side, watching him.  His daughter standing in front of Darius with a darkened expression.  In unison, the ghosts called for blood.


    ¡°Blood,¡± Geracht muttered.


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    Del spoke to Geracht in even dulcet tones.  ¡°Yes, Geracht.  Tear all those pieces from the Byun boy.¡±  Then in a more shadowed tone.  ¡°Start with the arms.¡±


    Geracht looked at Darius, seeing only the ghostly visage of his daughter now.  What was left of his face twisted into an anguished expression.  He slowly raised a hand to his head, and tore off another piece of himself.  He edged down to his knees.


    ¡°Geracht?¡±  Del said, stepping into the middle of the room, his gun still pointed at Darius.  ¡°I told you to do something.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t!¡±  Geracht shouted in response.  ¡°I see the dead!  I see you most of all.¡±


    Del cursed in exasperation, ¡°fuck! I¡¯ll do it then!¡±  He turned his body to Darius, leveling the gun at Darius¡¯s throat, where his neural link would be.  He begins to pull the trigger just as Geracht stands and charges at him.


    Del turns and fires a flurry of well aimed shots into Geracht¡¯s unprotected viscera.  Geracht takes all of the shots and slams into Del with full force, lifting him from the floor and then crushing him down beneath his full metal weight.


    A loud cracking and crunching sound can be heard from Del¡¯s ribs and spine as Geracht¡¯s massive form comes to rest atop his body.  Del was in shock.  The gun slipping from his fingers, and the breath pressing from his lungs.


    Oil and hydraulic fluid flowed from Geracht like blood.  His strength was gone.  His eyes were now focused only on Darius, and the ghost of his daughter there.  ¡°Don¡¯t follow me, little one¡­ I¡­ am¡­ not¡­ my¡­ self¡­¡±  Then Geracht¡¯s head sunk low, tears resting in his eyes, but refusing to fall.


    Darius watched in wild bewilderment as Geracht became still.  Del struggled for breath, trying with all his might to lift the monster off him.  His eyes became wild with the terror of realization.  There was no escape, no salvation, no hope left to cling to.


    Darius holstered his guns, watching Del¡¯s helpless struggle for air.


    ¡°You killed my father, my friends.¡±  He picked up Del¡¯s gun and pocketed it.  ¡°You left me in the street to die.¡±  Darius searched through Del¡¯s pockets, taking the encryption key.


    ¡°Mercy¡­¡±  Del croaked with what little breath he was able to gather.


    ¡°You made a mistake.¡±  Darius leaned down, nearly nose-to-nose with Del.  ¡°You let me live.  You should have ended it when you had the chance.¡±  Darius stood and pulled Del¡¯s desk chair over next to the man¡¯s contorted and crushed body and took a seat.  ¡°I won¡¯t make that same mistake.¡±


    Then Darius sat, watching Del take quick little breaths, struggling to cling to what little hope of life remained.  Weak, and small, Del finally died after a cluster of extended moments passed.


    Darius lifted his phone to his ear.  ¡°CURL, it¡¯s done.  Bring the cyberware extraction kit.¡±

 12.2

    In a back-alley doctor¡¯s office, Darius awakened.  CURL sat nearby, tapping on her phone.


    ¡°Mr. Proxy,¡±  the doctor spoke to Darius.  ¡°I¡¯m glad to see that you¡¯re awake.  Everything has been installed as requested.¡±


    CURL stood up and handed a credit chip to the doctor.  ¡°Thanks Doc.  We¡¯ll get out of your hair now.¡±


    ¡°Okay, just remember to give him these twice a day until they¡¯re done.  Don¡¯t half-ass this.  Infection is likely to set in if he doesn¡¯t do this right.¡±  The doctor handed a bottle of pills to CURL.


    Darius sat up straight, still a little groggy.  He looked over his new incisions as they healed before his eyes.  ¡°So this is how it¡¯s supposed to work,¡± he said, thinking about the initial surgery he¡¯d endured a relative lifetime ago.


    ¡°Yep.  Mostly painless.¡±  CURL smiled.  ¡°Ready to go?¡±


    Darius stood up, pulling the surgery curtain to cover himself and putting his street clothes on.  They had retrieved all of the necessary parts from Geracht, and now all of those parts were installed into Darius.  His body equilibrium had dropped with the installation, but he still retained all of his new abilities.


    Something about these new cybernetics made Darius feel more complete.  Maybe it was the knowledge that he¡¯d begun to complete his father¡¯s work.  Darius stood in front of the mirror with his shirt off.  He looked over the cybernetic scars that had formed, the chrome spine, the metal arms that used to belong to his mother before being rebuilt for him.  He now stood looking at the vision his father had had for him.


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    But despite how he felt, something had changed.  Like his father before him, vengeance had taken its dark toll, and Darius was shifting deep within.  The memory of watching Del die remained in Darius.  A part of him had never left that moment.  That moment, had left a part of itself in him as well. It echoed, playing out again and again; a perpetual vision of the endless death of Del Peck.


    He remembered the color of Del¡¯s face as it turned blue.  He remembered Del¡¯s eyes bugging out of his head, looking helplessly at Darius.  The spreading fluids from Geracht that collected like a dark halo around Del¡¯s hair.  It all lived rent free in Darius¡¯s brain.


    ¡°You earned it, you son of a bitch.¡±  Darius whispered.


    He pulled on his black tank top and walked out to CURL.  ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    CURL had noticed the change in Darius.  His innocence had died with Del.  He now carried a serious air with him that hadn¡¯t been there before.  He walked with purpose, but also as one who has seen too much.


    ¡°Sure,¡±  she responded, thinking about the boy Darius had been when they first met; wishing she¡¯d done a better job of convincing him to walk away from all of this.  ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±


    They stepped out of the doctor¡¯s office into the alley, lit only by a flickering neon sign depicting a pair of scissors and a cybernetic arm.  It was the symbol used by most back-alley doctors.  Darius looked at the alley for a moment, remembering the night he¡¯d spend hiding from the acid rains.  That had been the night before he¡¯d met CURL, Preature, Leary, and Tinker.  ¡°Never again,¡± he thought.  ¡°I¡¯ll never be weak again.¡±


    ¡°Have you given more thought to what you¡¯re going to do once we decrypt the files?¡±  CURL asked.


    ¡°I have,¡± Darius answered.  ¡°Tinker was wrong.  This has to happen.  Humanity can¡¯t govern itself.  It never could.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re at peace with changing everything?¡±


    ¡°I am.  Once we¡¯re through, humanity will have entered a new era.¡±


    ¡°I hope you know what you¡¯re doing,¡± CURL said, walking past Darius.  Then she stopped to look back at him.  ¡°Because if we¡¯re wrong, everyone will pay.¡±