by M. D. Cooper
A group of people were waiting to ride up. Kylie excused herself and Grayson, rushing out of the elevator toward the lobby exit.
Outside, it had grown dark except for the street lights and the lamps on the cars rushing by. Signs from the local theater, restaurants, and malls lit up the sky.
Kylie took a deep breath, closing her eyes and taking in city. “Stars, that smells good.”
“You really are hungry. I think that’s the fast food burger place you’re smelling.”
“Oh, gourmet to a ship girl like me.”
Grayson smirked, leading her to a waiting groundcar. “You scoundrel. I hope to get you something a little better than that tonight.”
“I hope so. This dress wasn’t cheap.” Kylie watched as the chauffer exited the driver’s side to open the groundcar door for her. She raised an eyebrow. “A human driver, too? Why, Mr. Grayson, you are trying to impress me.”
“Always,” he said.
Kylie slid into the groundcar, and Grayson got in after her.
There was a moment of silence as Kylie stared at her knees, wondering what to say, finally settling on, “Dress or no, I could still take you in a fair fight.”
Seriously, Kylie?
“Not so fair anymore. Now that you’re supercharged with your nanotech, you’ll have to go easy on me.” Grayson winked.
“Does it bother you?” she asked, and found herself holding her breath. She hadn’t realized she had been worried about that.
“Not in the least,” he said and then leaned in to kiss her. “Means that I don’t have to worry about you as much.”
Kylie tried not to smile, but couldn’t help herself. She felt so happy.
Paul was the furthest thing from her mind as the groundcar sped away from the curb.
* * * * *
Paul was escorted by shuttle to Clipper Island, a prison facility in the middle of the ocean. Large enough to house a hundred thousand prisoners, it was protected by a variety of shields and defense turrets, and security was run by an advanced network of NSAIs, overseen by a pair of sentient AIs.
Flying in over the ocean, Paul saw that the chance of escape was nil. Even if—by some miracle—he managed to get through the shields and past the active defenses, he’d never make the swim across the kilometers of choppy water.
No, if he was going to escape his death sentence, it would have to be during the trial while he was in Silstrand City, where there’d be more places to hide. Paul had thought he could use Kylie’s guilt against her, but he was becoming less sure of that.
He knew that he might need to use a different tool. One he was loathe to use, but if his options were death and questionable choices, he knew what he had to do.
“Sorry, Mom,” Paul whispered, his eyebrows knitting together.
He’d be so sorry, but in the end, he had to do what was necessary to survive. Peter Rhoads hadn’t raised any quitters. Paul needed to figure out a plan, and once that happened, things would fall into place.
He could talk anyone into almost anything.
Once on Clipper Island, he was processed like a common criminal. Pushed around, shoved…his clothes were taken, and he was given a bright orange jumper. They implanted a security token in his neck, and then he was brought into a back room for still more questioning. Paul thought the questions would’ve been done.
As he was taken into a vacant room, the guard pushed him hard. Paul fell onto the floor and rolled over. The man stood above him, scowling, a shockstick in his hand.
“This is for all the people and all the AIs you helped kill.”
“Please, no, have mercy,” Paul begged, but he didn’t try to defend himself.
The guard drove the stick into Paul’s abdomen, and he cried out in pain as the electricity surged through his body.
“Stop it, please,” he said. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I’m ready to answer for my crimes.”
The guard balled his hand into a fist and bent over, ready to show Paul who was boss. “Good, because you’ve got a lot of answering to do. Everyone wants a piece of you, and I’m going to make sure they get it.”
Paul groaned through the punches, the kicks, and the use of the electrical stick against him. Inwardly, though, he couldn’t believe his good luck. Men, women, it didn’t matter which, they were always walking right into his plans. Things just had a way of working out.
THE ROCKET
STELLAR DATE: 02.18.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Delphin Reach, Silstrand City, Silstrand
REGION: Silstrand System, Silstrand Alliance
After returning the pizza shuttle—and getting a few last pies from its onboard kitchen—Ricket and Rogers jacked into the Virt-Go from the safety of their shuttle in the secure hangar.
All that was required to join the virtual world was Link access and a software download to their neural optics mods. Once connected, it took only a few moments for their avatars to form.
The software didn’t interface properly with Ricket’s mods, and it made her feel a bit dizzy. She swayed side to side in real life and in the game.
Ricket knew all too well—and had the anxiety to go along with it. She tried not to think about it. Instead, she focused on creating her avatar, and Laura picked a profile background to help fill in the blanks.
She spawned in the dressing area in front of a mirror, and quickly put together a look and an outfit. Her hair spun into tight, platinum blonde ringlets. Tight leather pants, boots, and a matching jacket with silver studs completed her outfit.
When she was done, Ricket’s HUD lit up that she had one-hundred gifted Virt-Go credits to play with, and she exited her spawn point and appeared in the central meeting place in Silstrand.
It was light and airy and crowded. Lots of younger people were meeting by the large fountain, chat bubbles forming above their head if they were looking to group up.
Quickly, Ricket assigned herself the name ‘Mars’ and scanned the area for Rogers.
Ricket turned around, looking for Rogers, but a wolfman wearing a leather jacket and matching pants smiled and waved at her.
Ricket refused to do either.
A light shot down from the ceiling, and Ricket moved to the side as someone respawned right where she’d been standing.
Talk about dangerous.
The new arrival was a young girl with pigtails and freckles across her nose.
That voice, it sounded so familiar….
Laura said.
uggested.
“It’ll do,” Ricket allowed as she led them to the maglev to the underbelly.
As they tried to board, the game warned them of the dangers in the underbelly and how a death in the game would cause them to lose all their inventory.
Ricket swiped the warning away as they stepped onto the maglev.
Inside, the conductor had big, knobby tires for feet and was constantly bumping into people as he buzzed back and forth, collecting credits and tickets.
The group sat together, with Rogers between the two women. Across from them was a half wolf, half octopus man, his tentacles waving about and climbing the walls.
“You guys looking for a clan?”
“No,” the three replied in unison, and the man deflated—both figuratively and a little bit literally—as he shrugged and looked away.
At the maglev’s stop, it emptied them into a brightly lit concourse covered in graffiti. While the upper quarters were all bright lights, glitzy socialites, and high-ranking generals, the underbelly region was dark and gritty, and whatever meager class it once had was gone.
They left the station and ended up on a busy street. Smoke poured out of the chimneys of a factory looming over the houses and shops. Nearby, a band played on a street corner, and further down the road, flashing lights and the sight of wild dancing drew their attention.
They got moving, to Rogers’ visible disappointment, and before long, they came to the Rocket. It wasn’t a figurative hole in the wall—the entrance was a literal hole in a brick wall. A holo sign with a burned-out ‘R’ flashed above the entrance, and the smell that wafted out was a combination of vape-sticks and gallons of beer…that had been spilled on the floor weeks ago.
Ricket said.
It was exactly the sort of place one would expect. Rough characters sat in a variety of slouching poses around the bar, drinking frothy beers and eating peanuts, while above on the wall, the holo displayed a rugby game going on elsewhere in Virt-Go.
Rogers sighed across the Link.
Laura’s avatar smiled, and a halo lit up above her head.
Then she signaled that it was time to get serious.
They eased up to the bar, where she pushed Rogers down into an empty seat, took a wide stance, and slammed her hand on the bartop. “Get my man a nitro chill, best on tap.”
Rogers grunted and nodded his head.
Ricket suppressed a laugh as the bartender turned to him.
“Anything for the lady?”
“I don’t see any ladies around here,” Ricket said, and a few people laughed, but not loudly.
The bartender placed a tall one in front of Rogers, who thanked him with a growl, baring his teeth a little.
“You looking for trouble?” the bartender asked. “Bounty roster’s posted, if you want to earn some in-game credits. But no fighting in here.”
Ricket didn’t glance in the direction the bartender had pointed. “Sure I’m looking for credits, but real credits. Always. You know of any jobs like that ‘round here?”
The bartender shook his head. “Nah. What you’re suggesting is illegal.” He moved down the bar, picking up a glass and flipping it in his hand.
Ricket followed him, but kept her gait nice and slow.
“I don’t see any cops around here. I won’t tell if you don’t.” Ricket smiled at him. “And I’ll throw a little something in it for you. What do you say?”
The bartender turned his head toward her. “Head to the wall next to the dartboard and wait. Alone. Don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”
“My man comes with me. I don’t like to leave him alone.” Ricket pulled her fingers through Rogers’ hair, and he made a half growl, half purr noise.
The bartender shook his head. “He won’t let you in with anyone. Just the way it is.”
“Fine, I guess.” Ricket shifted away. “Be a good boy while I’m gone.”
She grabbed Rogers’ shirt and leaned down to give him a kiss. While their mouths were occupied, he slipped her a ‘nade just in case.
She’d definitely need to tap that later.
Her fingers coasted along the bartop as she walked away, striding around a partition in the direction the bartender had indicated.
Behind it were a few tables and chairs, mostly unoccupied, barring two couples making out in separate corners. Ricket went over to the wall and placed her hand against it.
Laura sent a feeling of agreement, and a moment later, the false wall slid open. The other side was dark. Ricket could make out a desk, but she couldn’t even see who sat behind it.
Ricket triggered her character’s night vision to ease the transition from light to dark. When she stepped into the room, the wall behind her slid closed. The space was small, feeling overstuffed with a poker table, a desk, and shelves of junk.
“I don’t usually work with your type.” The woman sitting at the desk stood up.
She wore expensive military-grade armor, but it was outdated—and also decorated with pink stripes. Her head was shaved on one side, while on the other, her hair was long and black. Dark eye make-up, red gloss lipstick. A punk exterior if Ricket had ever seen one.
“And what’s my type?”
“A girl. I usually find females’ attraction to me to be a distraction.”
“I’m into men, don’t worry.”
Ricket had actually been with plenty of both over the centuries, but that was more due to the job than preference.
“More like dogs. The guy out there is barely human. It’s a miracle his brain can keep him moving.”
“My life, my problem. Let’s talk about the job,” Rick
et demanded.
“The job? What makes you think I have a job?”
“You’re living in the walls behind a seedy pub with nothing else to do. I say you have a high-stakes job, worth a lot of credit. I could use the money and the thrill. I want in.”
The woman seemed to consider Ricket’s words. “The token, where’d you get it?”
“I want the job, nothing more.”
“The token?” the woman repeated more firmly. “Where’d you get it?”
Ricket sighed. “My friend Grunt. Said he couldn’t complete the job, thought I could.”
“Yeah, saw that on the IRL feeds. If he couldn’t do it, what makes you think you can? He was SSF.”
“But not very good. Jittery. Scared. Had a grudge that clouded his mind. Me, I have nothing against Silstrand, and I can get places most can’t. I’ve also got some skill in getting people to give me things they shouldn’t. I can get access to the target.”
“With the failed attempt, security will be higher. People will be on the lookout. I can’t offer you any more credits; I’ve taken enough losses as it is.”
“I like high risks. I get off on it.”
The armored woman laughed. “So many of us do, darling.” She eyed Ricket up and down, stopping at her breasts. “I think I could welcome this sort of distraction. Like you said, I do live behind a wall. At least until this job is done.”
She walked out from behind the desk. Sexy hips, nipped waist, and a strut that screamed ‘pent-up sexual energy’. Ricket tried to relax, but when the woman swung her wrists around her neck, it was hard to resist the allure.
Ricket trailed her hands down the woman’s back, to her ample hips, pausing for a moment before pushing the seductress back.
“After the job. I don’t like to cloud things. Besides, have to clear it with my Riz.”
The woman ran her tongue across her teeth, considering Ricket and probably her motives. Ricket would hate if she blew this thing.
“All right,” the woman agreed. “You better believe I’m worth the wait.”
“Oh, I can tell you are. When do I find out your name?”
“Later. If you’re not killed. We’ll have to see how things play out.”
