by D P Wright
“I hear that they are now openly supporting the Corps Boys.”
“Yea. The Boys have been holed up in Hotel Sunset making their booze and dealing their chem ever since the Council had taken them under their wing. With Council credits they are running riot down there.”
“And the district governors are allowing this? Council have no authority below the Rim.”
“Please, those governors are all handpicked by the Council, they’ll do whatever they’re told.”
Kessler rubbed his eyes, “Yea, but to openly support a bunch of crazies like the Corp Boys? Even that far down, they’ll not be able to keep that quiet. Citizens will not want to spend their credits so freely with corporations supporting lawless gangs.”
“The Council seem to put up with their drug use and their indiscretions with the law as long as it doesn’t make its way above the Rim to Midtown. They need them. They’re using Sunset as their base of operations, preparing for some big show down below.” He typed a command into the console, “About a week ago a whole detachment of Vents were sent down to Sunset, and let me tell you these guys aren’t messing around, they are packing some heavy heat. They mean business.” Jimmy turned back to Kes, “Tell me, brother, why so interested in Council business anyway? What you messed up in?”
“The Corps Boys or the Council may have something to do with a death I am investigating. I need to find out for sure so I can get paid.”
“I would skip this one, brother. Like I say, these guys mean business and you don’t need to be on the end of it.” Jimmy stared at Kessler who looked forlornly out the window and towards the city far below, lost in thought, “You need the cred that bad?”
A few moments passed with only the glare of the monitors and the constant buzz of the machinery for company. Still looking out of the window and into the darkness, Kessler eventually spoke, “What I do need, old friend, is a way into Sunset.” Jimmy shook his head in disbelief, his synthwear now glowing a bright pink. Kessler continued, “Like I said, I just need to find out who killed my client’s uncle, then I get paid.”
“How long have we been friends for?” Jimmy’s seat moved across the room towards Kessler.
“A long time.”
“Tell me, who do you owe the creds to?”
“Little Chi.”
Jimmy whistled, “How much? Big?”
“Let’s just say it’s big enough and I don’t have it.”
“Little Chi is not someone to be messed with. Only a few weeks ago he got poor Hector diced up real good. He won’t be jacking into anymore burn rooms now, that’s for sure. Real shame.”
“Yea, I heard.” Kessler rubbed his eyes and noted Jimmy’s pills had yet to work, “Can you get me what I need?”
“Of course, but these things don’t come cheap, as you know.”
“Yea yea, I know. I have some cred. I need it sorted straight away.”
“Ok, so let’s see what would be best.” Jimmy cracked the metal knuckles in his right hand and grinned with glee as he poured over his keyboard, “Something creative, something that you can pass off with your erm, particular charms.”
“Don’t be too creative, I need to blend in, don’t want to draw attention to myself.” Kessler knew Jimmy all too well. He was in his element and took to his trade with a youthful passion and delight that belied his fifty-plus years. He may have changed physically, the machines that he relied on for his trade he also relied on to keep him alive, however he had always retained a child-like excitement in what he did, an innocent enthusiasm that was so rare on Dis. It reminded him of when they were younger. So long ago now. He looked at the flurry of activity that was Jimmy Six at work and wished he had more of the qualities he had as a youth. He at last was beginning to feel the warming caress of Jimmy’s pills eventually beginning to take hold and his burning retinas and arm ached less.
“Most of Council communication is heavily encoded and impossible to access but the traffic between the more junior officers is less secure. In their arrogance they just love to hear their own voices and they get careless, believe that they are untouchable, that no one would dare monitor Council communiqués.”
“You mean they don’t count on someone as nosy as you spending hours snooping through their mundane meaningless personal affairs in the hope of finding any juicy info that can make you a quick cred?” The robot again copied Kessler’s movements and gave a high pitch ‘bleep’ as it attempted to mimic his voice. He knocked it over with his hand, “You definitely need to get out more.”
“Well, what I found out was that the officers sent down to Sunset don’t know why they are being posted below the Rim. Apparently they are as in the dark as we are. However, what I do know is that they are not impressed, the network is filled with their whining. Seems they are as surprised as us as to why the Council is bothering with the lower parts.”
“So how are you going to get me in?”
“I’m getting to that part.” Jimmy gave Kessler a sideways glance, feeling slightly hurt. “With all these Venters going down the Council have also commissioned a couple of bounty hunters to join the party,” Jimmy started to giggle again, “the officers don’t like that either, think they are proper gutter trash.”
“Ok. What does the Council want with bounty hunters? They usually keep all their dealings in-house.” Bounty hunters were a tough breed. They had come from all over the city, from the slums and gangs of Downtown to the wealthy families of Hightown. Whatever their background they had come together for reasons only they knew. Their guild was much feared and not much was known about them, some say even the Council were afraid of them.
“Strange times indeed. I don’t think one more bounty hunter in amongst all this activity will be noticed.”
“You want me to be a bounty hunter?”
“Yes, you could have been, once.”
“That was a long time ago.” Kessler turned away and closed his eyes, not wanting to dredge up old, long-forgotten memories.
Jimmy, ignoring his friend’s discomfort, continued. He held up a small capsule that pulsed with light, “This is a holo suit, you attach it to your parietal lobe via your ear. You will be able to activate it through your bioware and there you have it, a bounty hunter, with the correct docs of course.”
“And this will allow me to walk right in, no problems?”
“Of course. You will however have to do whatever business needs doing fast, say within three hours before the power cells run dry.”
“Sounds expensive. How much is this all going to cost me then?”
“You will just pay for the holo suit, I’ll throw the docs in for free seeing that we go way back – one hundred creds all in.”
“One hundred creds, that’s steep.” Jimmy never surprised Kessler, always the businessman. “Eighty and we’re done.”
“Ok, ok. You’re killing me. Do you know how much this stuff costs?”
“Jimmy, remember who you are talking to, I know you. You spend all your time cooped up in here making this tech from scratch, at a fraction of market price. You make a killing.” Kessler took out what remained of the creds Bethany had given him and realised there would be very little left after this expense. He weighed the bag in his hands as his thoughts returned to the Le Morte twins and Little Chi and reminded himself to com Macy and tell her to lock up the office and make herself scarce for a while. He did not want those ghouls anywhere near her. He threw the cash over to Jimmy who immediately inspected the cred with feverish intensity. “Don’t worry, it’s all there.” Kessler sneered and he made a note to himself to ask Bethany for expenses.
“Business, you understand, old friend.”
“Yea, whatever.” He never changed.
“So what do you want to look like? Long or short hair? Moustache or beard? I haven’t kept up to date with the current fashion.”
“Whatever, just make it convincing.” Kessler stared again into the vast expanse of Downtown which lay sprawled out below Jimmy’s hideaway an
d wondered just what was happening down there that would get the Council so spooked?
Jimmy continued, completely focused on his task, “We have to make you look the part, a face that has seen many a battle. Then of course your District tattoo, say Downtown slums.” He looked pleased with himself. “I think the black and grey garb of the lower city will suit you. And there we have it. So what do you think?”
“Looks fine.” Jimmy’s monitor revealed a large face with square jaw and a nose that had been broken more than once. A couple of scars ran across the face just below dark brown eyes. A rough black beard and thick, spiked hair completed the grizzled look.
“I tried my best to make him look meaner and uglier than you, it was difficult but I think I’ve succeeded.” He threw the holo suit at Kessler. “And these are your docs, your average contract detailing your terms of service as a bounty hunter working for the Council.” Jimmy held up a shimmering disc which was about two inches in diameter. “It should hold up to a reasonable amount of scrutiny but I wouldn’t hang around for too long.”
“I don’t intend to.”
*
His journey back to Downtown was never going to be easy. Whatever pills Jimmy had given him to ease his pain had only offered a brief respite. They hardly scratched the surface. The pain in his life had built up over the years, layer upon layer, compacting into a hard crust that would take a lot more than the weak rubbish Jimmy had given him to break through and make a difference. He had rubbed his eyes raw and so viewed the world through blurred vision even his optics could not fix. Vehicles were a haze of yellows and reds as they streaked past his slow, overly-cautious drive. There were deaths in the Pipe every day, it was a fight for survival as citizens entered a zone not monitored by Council eyes. The mag rails latched onto the power cells on the junker’s undercarriage and turned it into a blazing missile making its way through Dis in a blur of light and to the sound of crackling electrical discharge. Power surges or cuts, which were a common occurrence on the ageing network, regularly pulled cars off course and only the most vigilant driver avoided disaster. Kessler sweated as he tried to keep his burned out retinas focused, the low rhythmic, hypnotic hum of the transtube reminding him of the sleep he very much needed.
Forcing his mind away from the hurt, Kessler concentrated on the task at hand and found himself thinking of the unconscious Bethany. Life was tough on Dis, tragedy had its needle in everyone, he had it in bucket loads, but, despite this, he found himself looking down at the com on his dashboard, dreading the call from Macy or Doc telling him she had not made it. Was it that he was desperate for her credits or that a thread of humanity was trying to break through to the surface? Hopefully he would finally get some answers from the Corps Boys and shed some light onto who killed her uncle.
Hotel Sunset lay in Kalaupapa sector of D2. The whole area had been abandoned by its inhabitants at some stage in the far distant past. Whatever it was, rad leak or some epidemic, it did not surprise Kessler. These parts of the city had many such tragedies, almost on a daily basis. The citizens in the upper levels would gorge over the infogrammes which reported on these catastrophes, the hardship of those Dregs struggling below the Rim all dressed up in the red glossy lips and bio enhanced bodies of reporters on the newsreels. Citizens would feed off the misery of these lower parts, give them something to talk about over their hydration pouches and ration packs, and who could blame them? The warm glow that others were having a rougher time than you always made your day that bit easier.
Kessler drove through desolate streets, the only sound coming from the hammering rain and the hot gusts of wind which howled and whistled through the empty shells of buildings that towered forlornly either side of the road. The low light restricted visibility and this, combined with the lack of traffic, made the sector feel isolated from the rest of Dis. The only sign that the area had any inhabitants whatsoever was the frequent appearance of graffiti on crumbling stone walls, most of which depicted pro-Council doctrines, and the various tags of Mutes and Dregs. All to be expected from an area controlled by the Corps Boys.
A quick look on the navi-com told Kessler he was coming up to Hotel Sunset and he parked the junker in some unnamed, darkened alleyway a couple of blocks away. He took a few long breaths of the meds to ease his pain slightly and turned it off to save what was left. He lay back and closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the medicine as it tingled through his body. He did not look forward to venturing out into the thick Downtown air without it. Not wearing it up in Midtown whilst visiting the Bishop was difficult enough but this far down it was only going to get worse. His breathing was still laboured from the fire and every few breaths his chest still wheezed and spluttered. Rummaging around inside the junker, he took out his last Ox and placed it in one of his pockets. Jimmy had told him that his disguise would only last about three hours but he had no intention of being around anywhere near as long as that.
Following his instructions he placed the device in his right ear and pressed down on the inked bioware panel on his wrist. Kessler looked down at his hands, arms and legs and they began to flicker as his disguise took hold. A low hum vibrated slightly in his ear. The face that stared back at him from his reflection in the canopy took Kessler by surprise. He had to give it to Jimmy, he had certainly done a good job. The square jaws of a grizzled bounty hunter with long, shoulder length black hair and thick stubble with dark brown eyes filled the mirror. A series of violent, jagged scars arced across a heavily tattooed face to complete the disguise. Kessler immediately started the timer on his optics, the display flickered – 03:00:00 – before his eyes, and began its count.
It was easy finding the hotel. As Kessler left his junker, he soon began to hear a low hum penetrate the crashing silence of the rain and then, quickly, this developed into a feral cacophony which guided him through the sodden darkness towards his destination.
From his raised position, Kessler could see that the repetitive grid-like pattern of the streets gave way to a vast empty space at the centre of which lay Sunset. Bright spotlights surrounded the building, mounted on a high perimeter wall and scaffolding towers which reached high up into the murk. The light cut into the thick darkness, its shiny tendrils reaching out into the surrounding space revealing large mounds of rubbish, barbed wire and burnt out vehicles littering the area.
Kessler checked the display on his optics which told him he had two hours and fifty minutes until the batteries went dead. Taking a swift breath from his inhaler, he continued to walk. Through a series of large speakers that hung from the scaffolding towers, loud music, piercing and screeching like metal grinding against metal, battered his senses. Kessler began to feel very self-conscious. Any waster standing along the perimeter wall or manning the large towers would have seen him approaching from a long way off. He looked down at his hands, hoping that the holo suit was doing its job and cursed the fact that he had not turned off his torch light that hung from the lapels of his plastichem coat, its light reaching out into the darkness, swaying and bobbing with every step.
As he approached the building, a tall rusted metal doorway, sprayed from top to bottom in garish graffiti, like that seen everywhere in this sector, came into view. Two kids guarded the entrance, one holding a large spear-like weapon that appeared to be a rusted pipe which had been sharpened at one end, the other an old looking servo-wrench. Both tapped their weapons in time to the drone of the music. They were dressed in a ramshackle assortment of clothes and makeshift armour. One wore the bug-like mask of a rad suit, a battered and tarnished marine breastplate and torn pink trousers while the other proudly displayed the shredded uniform of a Venter officer with two hubcaps strapped to each shoulder.
As Kessler approached they stopped swaying to the noise and the boy holding the servo-wrench slammed his fist against a console. A shock of silence washed over them as the grinding assault of sound disappeared. They both pointed their weapons at the detective who now stood on the edge of the light.
“Halt!” The high pitched voice of the boy with the spear seemed to echo in the quiet.
“Name your business with the Corps Boys?” A muffled voice came from underneath the ridiculously large radiation helmet.
“You best answer carefully citizen.” The words could have come from the venter officer that had once worn the kid’s uniform but seemed to lose their menace in the thick accented squawk of this Dreg youngster.
Kessler paused for a second and took a couple of breaths. He had to remember that he was not the broken, down and out from Midtown but a hardened, bounty hunter, seasoned from years of violence. He reached down to the depths of his tired, drug-addled brain to a time before everything, when he had meant something, when violence was part of his life too. He walked with purpose towards the gate and went to brush past the guards when they moved to block his way, “Out of my way, boy.” Kessler’s deep voice sneered.
The guards looked at one another, “Who do you think you’re talking too? This is da Corps boys’ house. You gotta be stupid to talk like that round here.” He prodded Kessler’s chest with his sharpened pole and the other started laughing hysterically.
Kessler grunted in annoyance, batted away the primitive weapon and reached into his inside coat pocket. At this sudden movement he was met with raised weapons, “Easy!” He growled, “Here are my docs, now let me past, it’s been a long journey down city and my throat is dry, I have drinking to do.”
From the small disc in Kessler’s hand, the holographic projection of a contract between him and the Council appeared before the pair of Corps Boys. They looked intently at the wall of text before them, appearing to think long and hard about its contents. Kessler doubted either could read but what they definitely did notice was the official Council stamp together with the eye and dagger symbol of the bounty hunters. They immediately stepped aside and, without speaking a word to each other both heaved at the heavy metal door which opened to an angry screeching from its rusty hinges. Kessler sighed to himself in relief, his holo suit seemed to be working. The Corps Boys may be made up of a bunch of kids but he knew not to let that lull him into a false sense of security. He had heard stories of the terror they caused throughout this area. They assumed what little wealth there was this far down was theirs for the taking and did so by controlling much of the lower city through fear and brutal acts of violence and destruction.
