Extensis Vitae: City of Sarx

by Gregory Mattix

  “Sorry to hear that.” They sat there in silence for a minute, and Reznik wondered what to say to this woman he considered a friend yet knew so little about. Fortunately, Declan brought in drink refills.

  “Food will be ready in just a few minutes,” the innkeep said before sliding the door shut again.

  “So… you’re Yakuza, huh? I heard that from Lady Angelis, and I was just surprised I never made the connection. I suppose that explains a few things: your awesome fighting skills, the extensive tattoos, and the corporate connections.” He took a drink and tried to gauge her reaction.

  Rin took another sip of the cognac and looked away. “You’re right, I should have told you. I’ve made quite a few enemies over the years, both personal and those by virtue of working for the clan.” She paused a moment to gather her thoughts. “I guess I wanted you to respect me for who I am and not think less of me because of my background or connections or anything else. You took a lot of abuse at the hands of the Overseer on my account, and I’m sorry for that.” She looked up and met his eyes, and they seemed to be pleading for understanding.

  “Rin, of course I respect you—very much so. I consider you my only real friend right now. And no, I don’t think any less of you because of that. You can’t help what family you are born into, right?”

  She nodded, and he thought she looked relieved.

  “Besides, your connections are about to come in handy in the next few days.”

  Yamashita got up and opened the door for Declan, who had his hands full with three massive bowls of food.

  “Dinner is served,” Declan announced as he set the steaming bowls down in front of them. Talk of business would have to wait, Reznik decided; he was famished and dug into his meal. He realized the truth to the claims, as Declan’s shepherd’s pie was truly out of this world.

  Chapter 22

  “What the hell is this? Who authorized bringing one of those creatures here?” Marcus watched through a window as a child kicked a rubber ball around a room. He couldn’t have been any older than two physically but had the motor-skill development of a much older child. It’s actually only about two weeks old. He couldn’t quite bring himself to think of the hybrid child as human.

  “It was decided above your pay grade,” Bethany replied. She watched the child curiously for a while before glancing at Marcus and seeing his plain annoyance. “Hey, don’t look at me—I had nothing to do with it. I agreed with you that they should have been exterminated, but someone thought the chance of getting our hands on a human-alien hybrid for research would be too great of a chance to pass up. Hence the sample was retrieved from the Planter’s Ridge op.”

  “Oh, my fault. And here I thought I had been put in charge of this division. Obviously not.”

  Bethany nudged him in the side with her elbow and gave him a bemused smile. “You know there’s always someone higher up the food chain. Wouldn’t be a proper bureaucracy without ten times the levels of management as what we really need.”

  Marcus sighed and just shook his head. “Don’t I know it.” The child overturned a plastic play table and tossed it halfway across the room in an attempt to retrieve the ball. “Strong little bastard. Oh, I needed to ask you something. Who’s Derek Watters?”

  “Where did you hear that name?” Her eyes narrowed.

  “You know the individual, obviously. The name turned up during an audit of the servers. It seems that individual’s backup failed.”

  “What do you mean it failed?” Bethany looked very interested now.

  “We haven’t figured that out yet. The unit tried to do a remote backup and somehow wiped itself. I’ve got Ram looking into it. Who’s Watters?”

  She pursed her lips as if considering how much to tell him. “He’s a former CorpSec Sergeant that was reassigned to the garrison in Skin City. Went AWOL about a month ago.”

  “How can skins go AWOL? It’s against their directives, and you can track their locations via Datalink, can’t you?”

  “Good question. Could be deceased for all we know. We tried pinging his Datalink but got nothing. And now you’re saying his backup is toasted? There’s nothing left?”

  Marcus shook his head. “This could be related to the skin that errored out, but we aren’t sure. Maybe your guy just wanted to get off the grid and hacked his implant or something.”

  “I highly doubt that. I’ll have to look into it further.” She turned away, obviously disturbed by the news.

  “One other question for you. Since you put me in charge of watching Ayane Takahashi, I was thinking it would be good for her to get out of here for a couple hours. I’d like to take her for a walk along the pier, maybe. While the weather is still decent. Beefy and Taciturn would be there, of course. It’s not like she could get away or anything,” he said in a rush at her knowing look.

  “How gentlemanly of you,” Bethany said with a smirk. “Beefy and Taciturn? Charming names.” She laughed. “You’re the director—it’s your project. Do what you think is best. Captain Mills will send an extra squad along for security since she’s a VIP, of course.” She patted him on the cheek. “What’s next, flowers?”

  Marcus felt his face go hot, and Bethany laughed again as she walked away. His thoughts went to Ayane. I wonder if she’d like the pier? She’s from Sea-Tac, so I bet she misses the ocean.

  His thoughts were interrupted by a loud thump. He looked back into the lab and saw the child smack his hand against the window again. He smiled a toothy grin at Marcus, who felt his skin crawl. Way too many straight teeth for a child that age. That kid is starting to freak me out. I feel bad for whoever has been assigned to care for that little monster.

  He hurried away to make arrangements to see Ayane.

  ***

  A stiff breeze blew in off the ocean, sending Ayane’s long tresses flowing out behind her. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply of the air, a satisfied smile on her face. The two of them watched a flock of small gray sanderlings darting nimbly in and out of the waves in search of food. Marcus shivered from the damp chill and realized Ayane was wearing only a thin sweater. He hurriedly removed his coat and draped it across her shoulders.

  Ayane turned her radiant smile on Marcus. “Thank you. You’re such a gentleman. Shall we walk some more?”

  “Sure.” He walked beside her as they made their way along the polymer boardwalk. Ayane’s mood had improved quite a bit after he had gotten her set up with her exoskeleton. He couldn’t hear the faint whine of the device over the crashing surf although the clump each step made against the planks was audible.

  The exoskeleton consisted of a thick band around Ayane’s waist that interfaced with the newly installed port in her spine. Bands ran down the sides of her legs and wrapped around her thighs to hold her in place. Her feet were secured inside the feet of the exoskeleton almost like slippers. The assistive medical device did enhance one’s endurance but, unlike military spec units, didn’t greatly increase the wearer’s strength.

  Beefy and Taciturn followed a dozen paces behind them. Marcus occasionally caught a glimpse of Mills’s CorpSec team guarding the perimeter. Whether Ayane noticed them, she didn’t say.

  “Do you come here much?” she asked.

  “Sometimes. I don’t get out of the compound much anymore, unfortunately. I remember pictures of what the boardwalk used to look like before the tsunami destroyed everything. There used to be a bunch of little souvenir shops and cafes and ice cream carts. People would bring their kids down here to swim and play on the sand. Now that it’s been rebuilt, you don’t see any of that.”

  “It’s got a sterile, corporate vibe,” Ayane remarked. “Seems you can’t get away from that anymore.”

  “Well, you can if you go to the wasteland. But that’s really away from it—just a little extreme.” They both laughed.

  They walked a while in a comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the ocean and enjoying the fresh air. A gull cawed as it flew overhead. A couple surfers rode a wave dow
n the beach a few hundred yards.

  “I thought you might like to come out here since you’re from Pac-Rim. Do you miss the coast?” Marcus smiled as their eyes met. She looks so much happier out here—it makes her beauty radiant.

  “This is such a nice surprise. I do miss the sea—I’ve lived near it my whole life. I love the fresh air and the smell of the salt water. What about you—where are you from, Marcus?”

  “Around here. I was born in the District. My family lived an hour or so outside. After the Cataclysm, I grew up in the Thorne Industries compound.”

  “You did? Did they take your family inside? This area was hit pretty hard, wasn’t it?”

  “It was devastated by the tsunami. I, uh… grew up by myself in the compound.” He felt embarrassed as she studied his face. “My family didn’t make it through the Cataclysm. The company took me in.” And my father was a damn traitor that abandoned us. Or that’s what they say. The man I remember never seemed like that, but what do I know? I was just a young kid at the time.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Ayane squeezed his hand sympathetically. “That must have been really lonely.”

  “It wasn’t that bad. Bethany was like a big sister to me. And Liu’s family were like my foster family.” At Ayane’s questioning look, he continued. “Liu didn’t make it, unfortunately. He was killed by slavers after we crashed in the wasteland. It’s a long story. I’ll have to tell you about it another time.”

  “Sorry about your friend. I never had much of a family growing up, either. I never knew my mother. The clan took me away from her when I was a baby. ‘She wasn’t fit to be a mother,’ they said. More likely she was just some prostitute that my father screwed around with and would have brought shame on the family had her relation to me become widely known. My father raised me instead. Well, I suppose it would be more accurate to say the family’s servants raised me. He inherited the clan from Grandfather a few years after my birth, so he was too busy for the mundane tasks of raising a child.” Bitterness was evident in her voice. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t go on like that. I’m sure you don’t really care.”

  “No, I do,” he said hurriedly. “It’s kind of nice to talk to someone that isn’t afraid to express their opinion, if you know what I mean.” His eyes darted to his bodyguards.

  “I do. Some of the servants were nice to me, but most of my family and father’s enforcers were cold and aloof. My Aunt Reiko, who helped look after me, was the only one in my family that treated me like an equal.” Ayane stopped to stare out to sea, as if reminiscing. The wind tousled her hair, and she absently swept it back out of her face. “I wonder if my aunt is okay. When those thugs burst into my room and seized me, they said she would be given to some wasteland marauder. Like a possession.” Ayane shuddered and pulled Marcus’s coat tighter around her.

  Marcus looked around nervously to make sure the bodyguards were out of earshot. He lowered his voice. “That reminds me—I ran into a woman by the name of Rin in the wasteland who was asking about you. Do you know her?”

  Ayane’s face lit up. “Of course I do! She’s alive?”

  “I just talked to her a couple days ago,” Marcus whispered. “Don’t say anything. I’m sure I could get in big trouble for that.”

  Ayane looked around conspiratorially and nodded. “That’s great news! Rin is the name Aunt Reiko took when she was reskinned after the Cataclysm. She said she changed her name because her old life was finished when she returned to the clan grievously injured. She cast aside her broken body and made a new life for herself. Father and Grandfather call her Reiko still, so I do as well. I’m glad to hear she’s okay.”

  A commotion broke out a block away. A couple of the CorpSec enforcers were shouting and had their pulse rifles trained on a frightened group of young people. One of the grunts was barking at them to get facedown on the ground. Three other enforcers swooped in and threw the people to the ground with well-placed rifle butts and hard shoves. The grunts quickly searched the group for weapons.

  “Oh, my.” Ayane watched, wide eyed at the show of force.

  “We should wrap this up soon, Director,” Beefy grunted, having suddenly appeared next to Marcus, his SMG held in front of him as if expecting trouble. “There seem to be some subversive elements in the area.” Taciturn had moved up close behind them and kept casting looks over his shoulder.

  “‘Subversive elements?’ You mean civilians? Is the harassment really necessary?” Marcus shot Beefy a dirty look, but the bodyguard ignored him.

  “That’s all right, Marcus. We can head back. I enjoyed this time out here so much—it means a lot to me that you took the chance to get me out of there for a while.” Ayane’s warm smile made the trouble of arranging the trip all worthwhile to Marcus.

  I wonder what it would take to get her out of here for good and back to her family. This is no kind of life for her. It will probably mean prison or death for me, but I’ve got to try to do something.

  Chapter 23

  “How could he just disappear?” The Overseer was pacing back and forth in his chambers, hands clasped behind his back as he was prone to do. The Moirai lounged on the sectional sofa, watching the exchange with interest. “The motherfucker jumped off a sixty-story roof, and you’re telling me he just disappeared after that?” He stopped and glared at Kolb.

  “I’m sorry, boss. He’s not turning up anywhere. There’s no way he could have made it all the way through the checkpoint and back to the Sprawl in his condition. One of the houses must be sheltering him.” Kolb looked apologetic.

  “That bat-winged bitch is protecting him. I’d almost guarantee it.” The Overseer took his glass of vodka from Atropos and downed it in one swallow. He turned and hurled the glass against the wall. Kolb flinched as the glass shattered. “Get some drones over that painted whore’s property. The first sighting of this Reznik, I want you to get an assault team to raid the premises.”

  “Raid?” Kolb’s jaw sagged open. “Won’t the houses rebel if we do that? I thought their properties are considered sovereign—”

  “You aren’t paid to think, asshole,” the Overseer snarled. Fear registered in the big man’s eyes as he got up in Kolb’s face. That’s good. You better not forget who’s boss around here. “Get me my evidence, and then we will worry about what happens next.” This Reznik character presented a serious threat. The man was obviously very dangerous, having killed Haze and his gang, as well as wiping out a slaver caravan almost singlehandedly. Berenger would have to wait. The Overseer could tell Reznik was going to be a giant pain in his ass.

  “Boss, the EM field over the estate, remember?”

  The Overseer did remember. “Use the long-range scanners, idiot. Check with our spies—find out if he’s been seen there. Do your fucking job. Is that too much to ask? Now get the hell outta here.”

  Kolb retreated with a hasty “Yes, Boss” over his shoulder.

  “Get me another drink,” the Overseer snapped at the Moirai. “Straight up this time.” He flopped down on the couch, and Clotho sauntered over to the bar and poured him a stiff drink. As the alcohol burned its way down his throat, his mood simmered. Yes, first things first: deal with this Reznik before Berenger catches wind of it. Then I’ll take care of Berenger.

  “Daddy, will you let us have Lady Angelis?” Lachesis’s eyes shone as she licked her lips. The tawny-skinned beauty glanced at her sisters. “The lovely winged woman will be fun to play with. I want to tear her wings to shreds and sink my teeth into her lovely skin.”

  “Hmmm… maybe, my sweet. Daddy has a lot to think about right now.”

  “Does Daddy need help relaxing?” Clotho knelt down between his legs. Her slender, strong fingers slipped inside his pants. Lachesis and Atropos cuddled up on either side of him, their fingers kneading at his tense muscles.

  “How could I ever resist such lovely creatures?” The Overseer lay back and relaxed as the Moirai took turns pleasuring him and trying to get him hard.

  He closed
his eyes and pictured Lady Angelis between his legs. In his mind, her soft hair caressed his belly, and as she looked up at him with those stunning, shifting eyes, he drove a knife through one and then the other with quick, neat stabs. Then he pictured the knife sliding across her throat, blood beginning to pour out slowly, like water spilling from an overfilled bathtub.

  “Good work, Atropos, Daddy is enjoying this now,” Lachesis whispered.

  The Overseer didn’t pay attention, caught up in his fantasy. That bitch needs to die. Eventually. First Reznik, then Berenger, then Angelis. He smiled and then groaned in ecstasy as his release came.

  ***

  Reznik drummed his fingers on the table. The past couple days had seemed to drag as they made plans and prepared for the arrival of the rebel unit. He considered another drink but decided he’d wait. Keeva and her crew were supposed to show up anytime. Rin sat quietly across from him, and Yamashita had excused himself earlier, deciding to join his men for dinner.

  “How does this thing work?” Reznik examined the silver circlet that Yamashita had given him to use. He had stuck it in a pocket of his pack and forgotten about it after receiving it a couple days before. “Do I choose what the image looks like?”

  “Just unclasp it and place it around your neck like a collar. It has a motion sensor, so when you make a circular motion across your face, it activates and deactivates. Custom images can be loaded onto the chip if you don’t like what it’s set at now.”

  Reznik snapped it around his neck. He made a circular motion, and the room blurred around him momentarily. The far corners of the room softened as if he was seeing it through a light mist. “Is it working?”

  The corner of Rin’s mouth twitched into a half smile. “Look at yourself in the mirror. Not the image I would have chosen, but it will work.”

  An older Japanese man looked back at him in the mirror on the wall. Shoulder length salt-and-pepper hair and serious dark eyes stared back at him from a lined face. Reznik’s fit build was even reduced to a slighter figure, but his clothes remained the same: button-up shirt worn untucked over jeans.