by Skyler Grant
Persephone Rising
Skyler Grant
Copyright © 2017 Skyler Grant
All rights reserved.
This novel is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this publication are used fictitiously, or are entirely fictional.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, except by an authorized retailer, or with written permission of the publisher. Inquiries may be addressed via email to [email protected]
Cover designed by Ivan Tao
Typography by Kasmit Covers
Editing by Polgarus Studio (www.polgarusstudio.com)
Electronic edition, 2017
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Created with Vellum
Contents
About the Author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Afterword
Also by Skyler Grant
About the Author
Skyler Grant is an author of Science Fiction and Fantasy living in the Pacific Northwest in the U.S. His debut series was the Crucible Shard which mingled aspects of gaming and traditional fantasy in unexpected ways.
Bibliography
The Crucible Shard
Book 1: Dungeon Crawl
Book 2: Spawn Campers
Book 3: Corpse Run
Book 4: Gank
Book 5: Area of Effect
Book 6: DLC
Book 7: Endgame
The Persephone Saga
Book 1: Persephone Falling
The Laboratory
1
This was working out to be the worst date I'd ever been on. Billy the Kid had joined me as the second "Always On" hero erasing any line between his Network persona and his real-life self. When he'd asked me out it seemed harmless enough. At the very least the viewers would get a kick out of it, and maybe it might score me a few points in SantaFe where his defection had been taken in stride as part of his bad boy image.
They'd even helped to sponsor the date, buying us dinner in a romantic, rooftop venue in the fallen district. Still, awkward conversation and he choosing to wear a ludicrous cowboy hat stuck on top of the helmet of his exo-suit meant things were going bad even before the waiters pulled guns.
Now we were hunkered down behind the upturned table and a plate of fondue was oozing across the concrete. A bullet sent Billy's black hat tumbling.
"Bastards," he said, firing a shot blindly over the table and scrambling for the hat.
"Leave it," I said.
Billy must have caught something in my tone. "You got a problem with my hat?"
"You're in a complete, support exo-suit. You don't really need a hat," I said, snapping off a few rounds with the Silversmith. It was a good thing I came armed.
"Who needs a hat? It ain't about need, it's about taking a side and standing up for just what it is you believe in," Billy said, taking another shot. That one sent a waiter sprawling back.
I wished we'd done the date in the Network. Not only would this have been a lot less life-and-death, we'd have had a lot more resources to throw at these guys.
"You're a bank robber. Whose side are you taking?" I asked.
"Kind of been taking yours," Billy said, taking out another gunman. More were coming up the stairs and these were in body armor. They must have the building surrounded.
"It looks stupid," I told him, before keying my wristcomm. "Ismene, tell me you have us a way out of here."
Ever since I'd declared Ismene my support nymph there wasn't a need for her to go secret anymore.
"You can jump to the next building, but Billy wouldn't make it," Ismene said.
My Olympian muscles were always stronger, and besides, Billy was still adapting from station life. His musculature was in poor shape to work on Earth—although Ismene had been working on that.
"I can make it to the building," Billy said.
"Ismene is better at math than you are," I said.
"That's a little bit speciest," Ismene said.
"Damn straight, you tell her. 'Sides, I've got a few tricks the little darling doesn't know about," Billy said.
Ismene really was good at math and it wasn't just because she was an AI.
I huffed as the table splintered beside me. The rounds were starting to get through. It was now or never.
"Hope you're not completely full of shit," I said, and leapt out. With the Silversmith on a lower penetration setting I was able to let out several shots from the pistol as I ran for the edge of the building.
Even trained marksmen had a problem leading their aim for me. I was faster than they expected. I heard bullets slapping into the wall behind me as I vaulted off the edge of the building and curled myself into a rolling ball. If I timed things properly it should be my back hitting the glass of the window in the next building as I broke through.
The glass shattered around me, the nanotech armor I wore saving me from getting sliced to ribbons. I rolled to my feet, pulling my pistol. Nobody was shooting at me. An elderly-looking man seemed to be having some rather vigorous sex with a far younger and more attractive woman. Wait, no, a robot.
I was in a cyberbrothel.
I really didn't see the point. When the Network could provide you almost any experience you wanted and it would seem completely real, why choose this instead?
I looked back and saw Billy leaping off the opposite rooftop. That was right before it exploded. Billy came flailing through the window and crashed into robotic prostitute and client alike. Wisps of exhaust smoke were oozing from some sort of rocket launcher built into the cybernetic arm of his suit.
He was completely crazy. I was kind of impressed.
"Nice suit, Billy," said the prostitute.
"Thank you, Miss Dorris," Billy said, trying to tip a hat that wasn't there.
"This is what you've been doing on your downtime?" I asked, looking at her.
"This? That's kind of speciest," said the prostitute.
"You tell her," Billy said. "Miss Dorris is a talented professional who can provide all kinds of necessary adapters for an exo-suit. That's how I know her."
Worse date ever.
I opened the door. The halls of the brothel were lit red. Sultry music was being piped in from somewhere.
"So do you always carry a rocket launcher?" I asked.
"Pretty plain I'm not the most popular guy to ever stroll out of SantaFe, seemed a good idea," Billy
said.
Well, I couldn't argue with that.
Blowing that rooftop made this an expensive operation for SantaFe. Being responsible for the ambush meant the corporation would be paying for any damages in addition to the fees for its dead personnel.
It was an uneventful trip down the stairs to the ground level. The brothel was a busy place and filled with both men and women. Perhaps I hadn't given the place quite enough credit? I could appreciate something nice and uncomplicated. That didn't mean I was going to let Billy live this down anytime soon, of course.
Beyond a window filled with flashing neon displays of intertwining bodies and "Sex" written in a half-dozen languages, the street wasn't filled with the typical evening traffic. An armored vehicle was outside and makeshift barricades had been thrown up. Multiple rifles were pointed at the door, just waiting for us to come out.
I didn't like those odds. I could do it if I burned, but I hadn't done that since I killed Green. He was the SantaFe executive whose penchant for killing started all of this. A sick fuck who tortured me and "boxed" a lot of others, trapping them in the Network to be victims to whatever likewise sick souls like him could dream up.
SantaFe and Liberty waged a brief war afterward, a corporate skirmish hearkening back to the days of old, but it hadn't lasted. The risks became too real for the executives on both sides and they backed off.
"We know you're in there," a voice boomed out. "Billy, we're willing to let you go. Turn over Persephone and we'll let you walk with a full pardon."
I glanced at Billy, he must be tempted. I knew how hard it was to give up station life, and things on the surface were rough. It was bad enough for me, and at least I had a set of muscles that worked here. Billy was trapped in that damned exo-suit for the time being.
"You going to try to sell me out, Billy?" I asked.
"Offer like that? It's going to take at least a corporation board seat for me to sell you out," Billy said.
Okay, perhaps not the worst date ever.
"Then I guess we go through them," I said.
"You clearly don't spend enough time in brothels," Billy said, grabbing my arm and tugging.
"One date with you and that's already changing," I said, as I let myself be pulled along.
Billy led me down a flight of steps and through some winding halls. An unmarked door let us out into a dimly lit alley. I quickly checked for guards and didn't see any.
"That's convenient," I said.
"A whorehouse is always going to have a door for those who don't want to be seen coming and going. Usually another for the employees too, if they're the sort that move about," Billy said.
I noted it down. Far as it went, that was useful knowledge. It was saving our tail today.
"Want to call it a night or make them regret this a little more?" I asked.
"Well now, Miss. You're the prettiest dance partner a man could ask for. If you aim to do a little more before calling it a night, I'm happy to let you lead," Billy said.
It was easy enough to circle the building and get behind those men who were so formidable with their rifles pointing towards the front door. They were far less confronting when we had the drop on them.
When I'd first come to the surface I'd had a lot of qualms about killing any corporate. These days, if they'd tried to kill me first, I wasn't inclined to feeling any remorse.
2
We made our way back to base. After SantaFe had reduced the team's old warehouse basement to a pile of slag, I relocated us to a disused Olympia biolab on the surface. The place was ancient, originating from the founding days of the corporation. It even predated Olympus station.
That was something of a virtue. It was built strong to resist attacks, and once we brought the defenses online, although antiquated, they were still better than most of what could be found. It was also a touch of home, although a pale comparison to the splendor of Olympus. The hallways were still lined with statues and art, and it had a decent set of baths.
A research lounge had been turned into a common area where members of the team usually gathered. Hammer was settled into a chair, the massive cyborg reading a tablet. Inanna looked to have a hologram up of cell structures. To my surprise, as well as being an exceptional fighter, she'd also proved to be a skilled physician.
In the past she'd also dated Billy and at our arrival she glanced upward, narrowing her eyes at him. "He try anything?"
"Took me to a brothel," I said, sprawling out on a couch.
"On the first date? He saved that until our third."
"Seem to recall it was you who took me," Billy said.
"Where is your hat? You look stupid without it," Inanna said.
Billy patted his helmet. "Guess I'd best go get a replacement. Pleasant evening, ladies. Enjoyed our night out," he said to me, before sauntering out.
Inanna waited until he left before bursting out laughing. "I hate that hat."
"Tell me about it," I said.
"How did it really go?" Inanna asked.
"SantaFe tried to murder us and didn't even have the courtesy to wait until after dessert."
"Barbarians. I thought they'd made their peace with you?"
"Seems not. Anything exciting happen around here?"
"Masque and Diva are off scouting some leads," Hammer said.
I hoped they found something. It was easy enough to declare yourself a hunter of monsters—and a different thing entirely to make a living at it. My brand wasn't completely toxic, but we hadn't been seeing a lot of work coming our way from corporations. It made keeping the lights on a bit of a challenge. I'd thought we'd be getting lots of work from the public as well but that was part of the problem, we got too much. The world was one giant gaping wound and everywhere was bleeding.
I'd made such a splash with Green it was just the sort of act that couldn't be easily topped.
A hover sphere shot out of a wall and a holographic Ismene appeared, looking over Inanna's cell structure work. My friend's appearance was her latest image she had adopted for the Network—nymphy as could be, nude and endlessly dripping water. "Are those the old Steibos variants?"
"Obsolete, I know, but I thought they might prove effective for Billy," Inanna said.
When I said she was a skilled physician, I wasn't kidding. Ismene told me that Inanna knew Olympian genetics far better than should have been expected. Ismene even got a cellular sample of Inanna and checked. Inanna wasn't Olympian, but she had about as much in common with your average person on the street as I did. Ismene was still trying to figure out where most of the team really came from.
"You're back," Sparks said, stepping in and carrying what looked to be brass skull under one arm.
"You're carrying a head," I said.
"Still seeing about a body for Miss Ismene," Sparks said.
Ismene beamed him a smile that seemed more than cursory.
"Are you two dating?" I thought to Ismene.
It led to an unusual stretch of silence that was almost confirmation in and of itself.
"I wouldn't call it that."
"Interested?"
"Hooking up, maybe? I don't know. He's nice and smart, and kind of funny once you give him a chance."
I'd never found him funny. But people often showed the true sides of themselves to only one other person. Ismene sounded like she was really into him.
"I guess I kind of am," she added.
With the nanotechnology threaded through my body and my brain, my thoughts had no privacy from Ismene. It came in very handy sometimes—and was damned inconvenient at others. But it was perhaps part of the reason it hadn't felt like such an uncomfortable stretch for my life to be streaming nonstop even outside of the Network. Privacy was something I gave up since I'd started this new life.
"Sorry," Ismene said.
I wasn't. Not really. It was kind of nice to never be alone, especially as I didn't seem to be hitting it off with any nice boys or girls. Columbia and I had something of a thing, but ever sinc
e I left Liberty's employ we'd been growing further and further apart.
"Can't we just buy a solution? I'm sure the Collective must use something," I said.
"They do, and if I want to join I'm welcome to a body," Ismene said.
Ever since Ismene went public they'd been trying to recruit her. Most of the AIs in existence were a part of the Collective. A few still served Liberty, living alongside their creators. Ismene was the only fully independent AI so far as I knew.
"It ain't easy, if she needs to interact with the environment," Sparks said.
"Not easy unless I just want to float and look pretty. This lab has the systems for it, but most places don't," Ismene said.
The nanotechnology of my suit made for a solid computing platform that could support her, but that wasn't exactly letting her do much.
"Is there something I can do?" I asked.
The two exchanged looks.
"If you happen to see Miss Columbia, you might ask if they've anything that can help. Apart from the Collective, they're the most likely to be producing what we'd need," Sparks said.
I didn't think I had that much credit left with Liberty. If I wanted more favors from them I had to figure out a way to get back in its good graces.
Really, it was something that had to happen. When I'd gone independent, Inanna had insisted on severing my ties with Liberty in return for her support.
It came at a cost—it wasn't working. The work just wasn't there and we seemed to be fighting a losing battle to survive.
