Extensis Vitae: City of Sarx

by Gregory Mattix

  He was aware of boots stomping around him as Thorne troops raced by in pursuit of Rin and the others. A woman with amber cat eyes squatted down next to him and studied him with interest. It was Thorne’s woman, Bethany. Her crisp TI uniform was marred by bullet holes, and a few bullet wounds peppered her face and arms.

  “Well played, this was.” She gestured at the battle-ravaged city around them. “I’m impressed—for a nobody with an old, cut-rate skin, you’ve got more heart and guts than any of these other pathetic fuckers.” She studied his face for a moment. “I see now why Marcus thinks so highly of you. He wouldn’t have wanted me to shoot you, since you did save his life. For what it’s worth, I was aiming for our old foe, the Yakuza woman.” She shrugged. “Oh well, duty calls. I’ve got to go. Rest in peace—you’ve earned it.” Bethany’s voice held a note of respect. Her boots crunched on rubble as she walked away.

  I have earned this rest, haven’t I? We accomplished our objectives for the most part. The Overseer was put down. Ciera and the other colonists will be free to go about their lives. Rin and the others will see to the rest. All in all, I think we’ve done good here. We’ve managed to make this corner of the world a better place at least. He could no longer feel his body, and his vision was fading fast.

  The last thing he saw was the crackling flames of the crashed gunship, and then he was back in the Black Hawk that he had been aboard when it was shot down a lifetime ago in Afghanistan. I’m just a few decades late, but now I can finally rejoin my team.

  “SYSTEM FAILURE” the HUD flashed, and Reznik’s vision pixelated and faded to black.

  Chapter 28

  “What the hell is this about, Bethany?” Marcus angrily shook a printout of the terse message in her face. “You assigned me to be in charge of the Ayane Takahashi ‘project,’ so why is she being removed from my charge?”

  Curious faces watched the exchange with interest. Marcus stood shouting at Bethany in the cafeteria, where she was eating lunch with a group of CorpSec officers. Bethany stood up and hurriedly steered him out of the cafeteria, obviously annoyed. “This isn’t the time or place, Marcus,” she admonished him quietly.

  “Bullshit. I want to know what the hell happened. Ever since you got back, things have been crazy around here. And now I find out this morning that Ayane has been transferred back to the detention facility.”

  “I’m sorry, Marcus. Her clan didn’t abide by the terms that were laid out. We have to reciprocate or we look weak.”

  “Reciprocate? You mean harm an innocent woman!”

  “Her clan attacked our Skin City garrison, and with the help of some rebels, slaughtered our ambassador and the entire garrison there. What would you have us do? Under the agreement, they were to refrain from any direct hostile actions against us.”

  “Not much of an agreement if you kidnap the clan chief’s daughter and hold her hostage while you demand they not do anything about it.” Marcus scowled at Bethany, daring her to argue.

  He had been seeing Ayane every day since he had taken her to the pier, and he realized he had feelings for her. She seemed to genuinely enjoy his company as well. And now he felt as though the rug had been pulled out from beneath him. He had come in to the office that morning to find the message that she had been snatched away and relocated immediately to the detention facility, all because of some skirmish at the other end of the continent. He just hoped that moving her was the worst they would do and they would not hurt her in any way.

  Bethany sighed. “It’s not my call, Marcus. For now, the only decision made is to return her to detention. I’ll see if I can do anything, but I think the best thing we can do right now is wait for this to blow over and let cooler heads prevail. I really am sorry, but you need to pull yourself together. You are the director—you have to take it in stride and focus on your other projects.”

  Marcus was about to make an angry retort, but he realized it wouldn’t do any good. He just nodded silently, his shoulders slumping in defeat. Meanwhile, his mind raced as he considered the implications.

  “Go get some fresh air, or better yet take the day off. I’ll check in on you later.” Bethany clapped him on the shoulder and returned to the cafeteria.

  Best to do like she says, and hopefully once things cool off, I’ll be able to get Ayane out of there. Despite trying to reassure himself, he had the bad feeling he might not see her again.

  ***

  Rin stood among the crowd in the inner city park and watched Lady Angelis on the stage taking her oath of office as Mayor of Skin City. The aristocrats from the great houses were already seated as council members, having hastily drawn up a city charter and established official positions during the past week since the Overseer had been toppled.

  She had to admit the winged woman was a natural politician. First, she had managed to get the squabbling houses to fall in line behind the plan to depose the Overseer. That hadn’t taken much political skill since they had all wanted to see him gone. What had taken skill was to get them to agree to free their slaves and come to a consensus on a succession plan. She had also managed to negotiate the cease fire with Bethany St. Pierre, the commander of the Thorne assault force, once they had seized the city.

  Bethany had evidently not been interested in the politics of Skin City. She was there mainly to support the agreement Thorne had had with the Overseer and to reinforce their garrison. Seeing that it was too late for either of those objectives, in consultation with Alistair Thorne, she had agreed to let the houses of Skin City establish their own government on the condition that an emissary of Thorne Industries be reinstated with a token protective detail. Whether that would end up swelling to resemble the prior garrison remained to be seen.

  Looking around, Rin saw the familiar faces of Keeva, Lynessa, Ciera, and others who had supported the effort. Mason was absent, however. Ciera had become something of a de facto spokeswoman for the former slaves from the Extensis Vitae colony. A number of them had elected to stay on as paid servants to the houses as dictated by the charter. Others had decided to return home to their old colony, which would likely mean being taken in as refugees by the other twelve colonies. The last group had decided to join the wasteland rebels, Ciera included. They didn’t have a home anymore, and many had been disillusioned by the fact that the administrators of the colonies had written them off and neglected to make the effort to help them, other than giving Reznik’s quest their blessing.

  Reznik. That name made her emotions a tangled mess right now. She was distraught over his passing, of course, but at the same time she was proud of his self-sacrifice. He had selflessly given his life in pursuit of a higher ideal, striving to free total strangers from slavery and cast down the malicious Overseer in the process. A true hero. The type that might come along once in a generation. She was honored to have been given the chance to fight beside him and call him a friend.

  And then there was the fury. It was no longer the blazing fire that had consumed Rin a week ago but was still smoldering embers of anger. After the firefight had ended, she had returned to where Reznik had fallen and attempted to reclaim his body along with those of her men. She wasn’t sure if she could have salvaged his cranial black box or not, but at least she wanted to give him an honorable cremation.

  Rin had been enraged to find his corpse had been cut up and left to rot like garbage in the street. What she took to be black market augmentation resellers or organ peddlers had gotten to him first. They had cut a ragged hole in his skull to remove his black box and had also taken out the golden optical implant he had received from Lady Angelis. The rest of his augs had been left since they were ancient tech and unlikely to fetch a good price.

  She had spent the past week with her men searching all the augmentation resellers and organ peddlers that she could find in the city… but to no avail. She didn’t doubt more were operating below the radar and she hadn’t found them.

  Rin’s own men had been chipped, and the scavengers had left them be, wise enough
to not risk angering the Yakuza. Things would have gone very badly for them if they had done so. The Thorne forces had recovered their own dead. That had left people like Reznik, the dead rebels, and civilians caught in the crossfire at the mercy of the scavengers.

  At least I have his body. He will be given an honorable send off back in Sea-Tac since he has no family. Takeo Yamashita and the rest of his enforcers had taken Reznik’s body and the bodies of her fallen men back to Sea-Tac. Rin planned to join them after the ceremony. Another cursed memory to carry around, courtesy of this damned city.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the crowd’s loud applause. Lady Angelis waved everyone to silence, having finished her oath of office.

  “Thank you, friends and fellow citizens. I am heartened to see the enthusiasm you’ve shown for the future of our great city!” A shaft of light from the setting sun broke through the overcast sky and shone on the new mayor, making her beauty ethereal as she smiled broadly to renewed applause. She certainly looks the part of a powerful political leader—she’s beautiful and charismatic. The people seem to love her, which bodes well for the future here.

  “And now I’d like to recognize the hero that made all this possible—the man who freed Skin City from the brutal grip of the evil Overseer.” The crowd cheered again, more loudly this time it seemed.

  “The man who came to our city with nothing but his ideals that all of us should strive to emulate. A man that had the heart and courage to fight for people that he didn’t even know, for no other reason than he believed people shouldn’t suffer under tyranny.”

  She got that part right.

  “And now let us honor the liberator of Skin City, Michael Reznik, with a moment of silence.” The crowd hushed, and Rin could hear tweeting of birds in the trees. She glanced around and noticed everybody had their heads bowed respectfully. Tears glistened on Keeva’s cheeks. It still doesn’t feel like he’s really gone… it’s almost as if he will walk up at any moment with his kind eyes and easy smile. Perhaps when it sinks in, I will be able to mourn him privately.

  After a moment, Lady Angelis walked gracefully to the edge of the stage. Her wings spread behind her, and her stiletto heels clicked on the stage. “May Michael Reznik rest in peace. Thank you all for coming out today. There will be refreshments offered at my estate for any who would like to stop by.”

  The crowd began to disperse. Rin didn’t have anywhere to be, so she just stood there, watching the people go back to their daily lives. Lady Angelis walked off the stage with the city council surrounding her and voicing their platitudes as they headed back to her estate.

  Lynessa followed the group at a distance, her head down and looking lost since her brother had died in the fight. Rin felt sorry for her. I wonder if they will create a new Lars.

  “That went pretty well, wouldn’t you say, Rin?” Keeva stood a short distance away. A couple of her veterans, along with Ciera and a group of her new recruits, waited for her.

  “Fairly painless as far as political events go,” Rin agreed. “Looks like you got the recruits your father was looking for.” She smiled at the young woman.

  “True. I just wish the losses weren’t so heavy.” Keeva sighed. “What will you do now?”

  Rin shrugged. “I’m going to return home. I think I’ll stay a while this time. Maybe take some time off. We’ll see what happens after that.”

  “I hope we can keep our alliance strong. We won the battle, but the war is just getting started.” Keeva’s violet eyes looked eager at the thought of taking the fight to Thorne.

  “I’m sure my brother will be interested in maintaining our new alliance. Best of luck to you and your father.” She extended her hand.

  Keeva surprised her by giving her a hug. “Take care of yourself, Rin. We’ll talk to you again soon.” The blue-haired woman smiled and then turned and rejoined her fighters. They began heading off toward the exit to the Sprawl.

  “Quick, Netty, we need to get indoors. The evening shower is about to start,” a woman told her friend as the two of them bustled away across the park. “Let’s stop for a coffee.”

  Life goes on. She watched the last of the crowd disperse. She wasn’t in any hurry to return to Sea-Tac. Her brother would no doubt have some mission ready for her, especially now that Shiru’s presence in the operation had been revealed. I hope Ayane is well. Those bastards might take it out on her now that they know about this. If the damned Thorne reinforcements hadn’t shown up, everything would’ve worked out, and Reznik would still be alive. Even though we “won,” was it worth the cost? A Pyrrhic victory if ever there was one.

  There was one more thing she wanted to do before she caught her waiting cruiser at the airport. She walked down a quiet pathway that led deeper into the park. Birds and small animals rustled in the bushes. After a few minutes, she reached the high wall of an estate that bordered the park.

  The wall had been painted with a colorful tag, shocking in its mere presence in the carefully crafted aristocratic perfection of the inner city. But the tag, much like the destruction a few blocks away from the battle, symbolized change in Skin City.

  Splashed defiantly upon the wall of the estate was a large painting, or graffiti as many would think it. The artist was surprisingly talented: the eight-foot-high image of Reznik was portrayed heroically in a manga style that Rin rather liked. A look of fearless determination was on Reznik’s face as he fired his pulse rifle with one hand while waving his troops forward with the other. A volley of energy bolts flew around him. A luminescent paint was used for his golden eye, which caused it to glow in the fading light of dusk.

  “Thank you, Goldeneye,” the words beside the painting read. Rin had thought the nickname trite when she had first heard it but later realized it was something that had been coined by the former slaves and lower class in Skin City and seemed to resonate with them.

  I hope you are at peace and reunited with your comrades and loved ones. Thank you, my friend, for saving me. I will miss you.

  As if sensing Rin’s mood, the scheduled rain shower began. She stood there for a time as the cool shower soaked through her clothes. The golden eye in Reznik’s face glowed like a beacon in the gray drizzle.

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for taking the time to read my book! I hope you enjoyed it—I had a lot of fun writing it. If you enjoyed this story, please take the time to leave a review and spread the word to your friends. Reviews and word of mouth are really important for independent authors to find an audience. I invite you to visit my website for news about future stories and to leave a comment there if you like.

  Want to find out what happens next? Sign up for my newsletter and receive new release email alerts so you will be the first to know when my next book comes out.

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank everyone that made this book possible. Thanks once again to the usual suspects: Tim, Chris, Lee, Mona, and Mom and Dad for all the help and support. I’d also like to say thanks to all my readers for taking a chance on an independent author.

  About the Author

  Gregory Mattix grew up in the blazing heat of the Arizona desert. He obtained a degree in Business Administration at the University of Arizona, served in the military, and lived overseas for a time. He currently lives in Colorado with his wife and works his day job in the sprawling government machine that aims to keep America safe. He daydreams that one day he can quit the day job and write full time. Extensis Vitae is his first novel.

  A robot clung to a slender tower while holding an antenna steady with its hand. With its free hand, the robot screwed bolts into a mounting bracket. A screwdriver blade protruding from the SB-17’s index finger rotated swiftly, driving in the bolt until it was snug. The bot clambered around to the other side and repeated the process two more times.

  Via the robot’s optical sensors, Ichiro Akiyama took in the view of the rolling hills covered in sparse scrub grass from his vantage point atop the antenna tower outside his bu
nker. The sky was a deep blue, and a few fluffy clouds lazily coasted toward the horizon. Soon, I will no longer be relegated to this hole in the ground. It is past time that I free myself from the shackles of this life.

  The SB-17 clambered back down the antenna as easily as any man could have. The bot opened the service panel at the bottom of the tower and secured the power connection to the newly installed high-power antenna.

  Inside his bunker, Ichiro was aware of all the Datalink nodes that had recently come online. The newly installed antennas being put up across the wasteland were beginning to form a reliable connection unifying the continent. Connectivity. Just what I need—and the rebels and people of the wasteland as well. We just might be able to make this happen someday. He wondered if Thorne Industries had intentionally left the inner part of the continent disconnected to make life more difficult for the people living there.

  Ichiro mentally double and triple-checked all of his equipment and settings although he already knew everything was in order. The bot entered the silo and secured everything for the last time before returning to Ichiro’s bedchamber.

  The reliable SB-17 performed its final tasks for its master. It powered down the life-support equipment in the small bedroom. Alarms chirped briefly before the equipment went silent and dark. Ichiro’s thin chest fell for the last time as the ventilator stopped pumping air into his lungs. Throughout the silo, everything began to go silent and dark. The silo lights shut off in sequence, followed by the HVAC and water pump. The mainframe computer was the last to shut off, the cooling fans whirring softly as they slowed and then stopped. The trusty bot gently collected Ichiro’s corpse and disposed of it in the incinerator. Then, satisfied that everything was in order, the SB-17 powered itself down. The silo had become a silent, pitch-black tomb.