Corroded Cells, page 20
part #2 of Cyberpunk Saga Series
They stopped after only a meter.
“Counter hackers,” Patchwork said, “I’ll focus on opening the roof.”
Judy looked around. “No.”
Sandra gripped Judy by the shoulders. “Stanley went out a hero, and we need you right now.”
“No!” Judy wailed again, pushing and thrashing against the old woman who pulled them in tight, whispering something Moss could not hear.
He had met a lot of tough people since leaving the Burb and counted Judy among the toughest, but now they cried soft tears into Sandra’s shoulder. Moss had to look away, unable to watch the misery.
Anders ran into the ship, his boots clanging up the gangway.
Moss looked around. “Where’s Mr. Greene?” he asked frantically.
Ynna, looking exhausted with a bullet wound in her thigh, said, “I thought he was right behind us.”
Moss dropped Twelve’s pistol and snatched the rifle from her hands and started to squeeze through the giant door.
“I’ll come,” Gibbs offered, but Moss waved him off.
“No, get Patch onboard and be ready for us,” Moss ordered, “Ynna, watch my back.”
She slung another rifle from her back and nodded as Moss ran out into the gray haze. He couldn’t see much and moved in the direction from which they had come. He was accustomed to the constant fog which sat heavy on BA City, but this was entirely different. His mask hissed as he breathed heavily, trying to find his way.
Vague shapes of trucks were everywhere, and he passed prisoners huddling for safety, thick layers of dust covering their forms. Beams of light cut through as the wardens moved in his direction. One turned slightly and saw him, Moss popping off shots at the head. Glass and metal cracked and dinged until he saw red from the inside of the metal casing and the machine ground to a halt.
He heard his heartbeat through the ringing in his ears after all the explosions and nearby gunfire. The ground shook once more as the topside garage door began to open. Moss was grateful for the skill of young Patchwork.
He heard a cough and rushed in that direction, seeing Mr. Greene in the ground with his back against a truck. Coated in ash and debris, he looked like some surreal living statue. He was holding on to his side as Moss knelt beside him.
“Got shot,” Mr. Greene said.
Moss moved his hands to reveal the wound. It was only a slight graze of his ribs but bleeding enough to terrify a man who had spent his life behind a desk.
“You’ll be all right,” Moss assured him, putting an arm around his waist and hoisting him up. He winced as Moss brought him to his feet.
“Thank you for coming back,” Mr. Greene wheezed.
Moss smiled. “Of course.”
They moved back toward the ship, the lights from the wardens shifting around, looking for them. They were closing in on them, and Moss knew he had little time to get Mr. Greene to safety.
His robotic legs carried him quickly, but his old mentor couldn’t keep up, his steps dragging as he moved. He saw the shape in the doorway, Ynna waving them on, but the door was opening. Patchwork couldn’t keep Carcer from taking control back. He breathed slightly easier since he could still hear the rooftop door opening.
Moss saw the shape of his head silhouetted in the dust as a warden’s light found him. He sent them both crashing to the ground as bullets cut overhead. The dust swirled and danced as Moss heard Ynna return fire. The warden crashed down just behind them, and he heaved Mr. Greene up and moved him to the door. Six more lights were following him toward the depot as Ynna rushed and helped carry Mr. Greene to the ramp of the ship.
It was already hovering off the ground, ready to move skyward as Ynna was shot from behind. It glanced off her hip and caused her to fall, bringing the other two with her. Gibbs rushed to help her onboard as Moss helped Mr. Greene to his feet once more. They were so close to the ship, but the wardens began laying down fire blind.
Two of the guns mounted on the side of the ship returned fire, causing the lights to shift as the wardens moved for cover.
Gibbs returned as the ship began to lift toward the open roof, the direct sunlight blinding. Gibbs helped to pull Mr. Greene aboard as the gunfire renewed from both directions.
Moss’s vision went white with pain as he felt several bullets pierce his body. As if in slow motion, he felt his body fall to the earth as Mr. Greene’s foot disappeared into the ship. With a grunt, he lifted himself up and put a hand on the ascending ramp. As the side of the ship vibrated and tore, Moss felt a hand on his wrist.
Gibbs looked over, terrified as the ship continued to rise. He felt his feet lift from the ground.
“I got you!” Gibbs screamed, trying to get a good grip on Moss’s arm. Moss threw his other hand onto the ramp, trying to get a grip. He began to lift himself as he felt it.
A bullet passed right through his forearm. He lost his grip and slid. Gibbs held his other hand as the ship lifted.
“Hold on!” Gibbs cried, holding on to Moss with one hand and the ship with the other. Moss lifted his arm, but he could not use his fingers. He felt another shot pass through him, and he lost his grip, his hand sliding into Gibbs’s.
The ship continued to lift slowly as Moss felt the fabric of his glove begin to rip.
“Stop the ship!” Gibbs shouted into the ship, but Moss knew he wasn’t heard. The fabric ripped a little more. “It can’t happen like this!”
“Fly, you idiot,” Moss said as Gibbs looked back at him, tears streaking through the dirt on his face.
“That’s not the line,” Gibbs wailed in misery and confusion.
The fabric tore again.
Moss had gotten what he came for. He had saved his grandmother and freed his friends. He was proud of what he had done. If the fall didn’t kill him, the wardens certainly would. He made his peace with it. He had accomplished a lot and had set his friends up for future success.
The last piece ripped, and he felt his body begin to fall to the ground.
Gibbs shouted something, one loose glove in his hand.
Moss’s legs telescoped and took most of the impact as he hit the ground, watching as the ship blotted out the sun. He knew Gibbs was going to try and turn the ship around but also knew Anders was too smart for that. What looked like hundreds of lines of machine gun fire followed the ship as it moved. It shifted wildly to avoid a rocket launched from the ground before disappearing behind the lip of the roof.
Moss smiled.
He knew that Burn would be proud that he got Sandra out. He knew that Mr. Greene’s husband would be elated to see him freed. His heart broke for Judy and Gibbs. Above all, he hoped his friends wouldn’t be foolish enough to try to come for him.
He sputtered blood as the imposing figures of the wardens surrounded him.
The head of one of the chassis hissed open, blowing smoke and dirt in a plume, and he saw the unmistakable face of Warden Ninety-Nine revealed from within.
Moss laughed. Of all the wardens, here was this asshole was again.
He smirked under his mustache. “I knew you’d come,” he snarled with pride.
“Of course, I did,” Moss said in nearly a whisper, “we are the good guys.”
THE END
Epilogue
“Stanley Wu was killed in a riot in Carcer City One earlier this week when the guests became violent against the hardworking employees. This marks a sad day for BA City Miners fans who remember Wu’s game clinching goal against Jerusalem in the ND Cup four years ago. After being injured on the pitch, sources tell us that Wu became troubled and fell in with undesirable characters, even being linked to the terrorist attack on ThutoCo this year,” said the blonde broadcaster whose hologram was being projected into the room. She raised a hand, indicating for the viewer to look to her left as Ndeke Miller, the Miner’s current star striker appeared next to her.
“It’s sad,” He said, eyes downcast before looking into the camera. “It really goes to show what happens when you turn your back on your fans, sponsors and teammates.”
He continued to speak as the door to the conference room opened and Arthur Smith, President of ThutoCo, entered. He was angry and Alice Carcer did not stand for him when he stepped in.
He turned to see the broadcast.
“You see how Derek is covering this?” Alice asked absently. “He has D2E running these stories all day. No one is better at controlling the narrative.”
“No one believes the news anyway,” Arthur said, folding his arms across his chest.
Alice simply smiled. “You’re a fool if you believe he doesn’t control the forums too. That short pants wearing dolt has the public wrapped around his finger.”
Arthur felt his blood boil as she suggested he didn’t understand how the world worked. “That’s not what I’m here to talk about, Alice. You have something that belongs to me.”
She steepled her long fingers. “Your employee was caught inciting a riot in a Carcer facility. He will be returned to you once he has been processed.”
Arthur knew he needed to tread carefully. Since Moss had helped destroy much of ThutoCo’s technology, Arthur had discovered that the young man had immensely valuable programs uploaded to his neural chip. He needed the kid and the information he possessed.
Arthur knew another thing: he couldn’t let Alice know how valuable an asset she had. She would try to tap his chip, use her breakers to extract the intel. If those breakers made a mistake though, a self-destruct sequence would initiate, and everything would be lost.
“We had a significant bounty on him long before you captured him and your own bylaws state that the initial bounty holder has rights to the arrested,” Arthur told her. His lawyers had spent countless sleepless nights coming up with an ironclad argument he could use on her.
Though the Amalgamated Interests Council was Arthur’s brainchild and theoretically supposed to be working toward one common goal, the heads of the plant’s major companies were often at odds. They shook hands and played nice while they employed teams to undermine and sabotage one another.
Alice stared at him, her ever unblinking blue eyes piercing him. “Don’t speak to me of bylaws, I write the bylaws.” She smiled knowingly. “What your lawyers may not have told you is that the arrested belong to the highest bidder.”
She brought up a bounty on the screen, with a value and time stamp. “As you can see, we outbid you just before we took your employee into custody. He is ours.”
Arthur nearly spit as he read the screen. He was outbid by almost nothing, a mere one thousand more than ThutoCo had bid. Even more egregious was the time stamp. The Carcer bounty had been posted a minute before the supposed time of arrest.
He had been outwitted, outplayed by the person who had taken his position on the council.
He hated Alice. He wanted to reach across the desk and throttle her. He wanted to wring the necks of his lawyers for not catching this.
He vowed to make her, and everyone else who stood in his way pay.
“As I said, though, I will do you a courtesy,” Alice smiled. “Once we have what we need, we will return him to you.”
“Unbroken,” Arthur demanded.
“You are in no position to order me around,” she shifted her body slightly and the ceremonial saber at her side rattled against her chair. “But I assure you we have our best people on it.”
Arthur held back a smile. She had said too much. If she had her, “best people on it,” she had no doubt transferred Moss to The Table, Carcer’s main base of international operations.
He smiled as sweetly as he could muster. “Thank you for that.”
He saw Alice’s eye twitch and he wondered if she had figured out his plan. She would no doubt have elite guards watching the facility, but Arthur was confident that his BurbSec Zetas could break in and extract Moss without Carcer being any the wiser.
Alice would have her suspicions but would never be able to prove it.
His team was trained by disgruntled former Carcer operatives and knew all the secrets Alice tried to hide. He would get what was his.
He had his plan, but he still wanted to shame Alice before the meeting was through.
“I hear you traded one valuable asset for another,” he stated, cocking his head with superiority.
Alice scoffed. “That old woman is worth nothing. While she was housed in Carcer City, we beat every last piece of information out of her.”
Arthur let out a laugh. “If you believe that, I’ve got some property on Mars to sell you. That, “old woman,” is one of the greatest warriors BA City has ever seen and her skills turned the tide against Andreas during the war. As long as she breathes, she’s a threat. And now, she hates Carcer more than ever. I’d watch my back if I were you.”
“I have an army to watch my back,” Alice seethed, her normal calm demeanor temporarily cracked. “Who watches yours?”
“The entire AIC watches mine,” Arthur gloated. “You may have a new position, but I am the one who is striking deals with the off-worlders. I am the one who is ensuring the future we are all striving towards.”
Alice grinned and stood. “You continue to tell yourself that.”
As her hologram began to fade, she said, “I’ll say hello to Moss for you.”
NOTE TO THE READER
Thanks for reading Corroded Cells: A Cyberpunk Saga (Book 2). If you enjoyed the book, please leave a review (here), it is incredibly helpful to new authors. Reviews are one of the ways in which people can discover new work and help me to create more of it. Thanks again for reading.
For more information and bonus content, visit ThutoWorld.com
Matthew A Goodwin, Corroded Cells
Thank you for reading books on ReadFrom.Net
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“Counter hackers,” Patchwork said, “I’ll focus on opening the roof.”
Judy looked around. “No.”
Sandra gripped Judy by the shoulders. “Stanley went out a hero, and we need you right now.”
“No!” Judy wailed again, pushing and thrashing against the old woman who pulled them in tight, whispering something Moss could not hear.
He had met a lot of tough people since leaving the Burb and counted Judy among the toughest, but now they cried soft tears into Sandra’s shoulder. Moss had to look away, unable to watch the misery.
Anders ran into the ship, his boots clanging up the gangway.
Moss looked around. “Where’s Mr. Greene?” he asked frantically.
Ynna, looking exhausted with a bullet wound in her thigh, said, “I thought he was right behind us.”
Moss dropped Twelve’s pistol and snatched the rifle from her hands and started to squeeze through the giant door.
“I’ll come,” Gibbs offered, but Moss waved him off.
“No, get Patch onboard and be ready for us,” Moss ordered, “Ynna, watch my back.”
She slung another rifle from her back and nodded as Moss ran out into the gray haze. He couldn’t see much and moved in the direction from which they had come. He was accustomed to the constant fog which sat heavy on BA City, but this was entirely different. His mask hissed as he breathed heavily, trying to find his way.
Vague shapes of trucks were everywhere, and he passed prisoners huddling for safety, thick layers of dust covering their forms. Beams of light cut through as the wardens moved in his direction. One turned slightly and saw him, Moss popping off shots at the head. Glass and metal cracked and dinged until he saw red from the inside of the metal casing and the machine ground to a halt.
He heard his heartbeat through the ringing in his ears after all the explosions and nearby gunfire. The ground shook once more as the topside garage door began to open. Moss was grateful for the skill of young Patchwork.
He heard a cough and rushed in that direction, seeing Mr. Greene in the ground with his back against a truck. Coated in ash and debris, he looked like some surreal living statue. He was holding on to his side as Moss knelt beside him.
“Got shot,” Mr. Greene said.
Moss moved his hands to reveal the wound. It was only a slight graze of his ribs but bleeding enough to terrify a man who had spent his life behind a desk.
“You’ll be all right,” Moss assured him, putting an arm around his waist and hoisting him up. He winced as Moss brought him to his feet.
“Thank you for coming back,” Mr. Greene wheezed.
Moss smiled. “Of course.”
They moved back toward the ship, the lights from the wardens shifting around, looking for them. They were closing in on them, and Moss knew he had little time to get Mr. Greene to safety.
His robotic legs carried him quickly, but his old mentor couldn’t keep up, his steps dragging as he moved. He saw the shape in the doorway, Ynna waving them on, but the door was opening. Patchwork couldn’t keep Carcer from taking control back. He breathed slightly easier since he could still hear the rooftop door opening.
Moss saw the shape of his head silhouetted in the dust as a warden’s light found him. He sent them both crashing to the ground as bullets cut overhead. The dust swirled and danced as Moss heard Ynna return fire. The warden crashed down just behind them, and he heaved Mr. Greene up and moved him to the door. Six more lights were following him toward the depot as Ynna rushed and helped carry Mr. Greene to the ramp of the ship.
It was already hovering off the ground, ready to move skyward as Ynna was shot from behind. It glanced off her hip and caused her to fall, bringing the other two with her. Gibbs rushed to help her onboard as Moss helped Mr. Greene to his feet once more. They were so close to the ship, but the wardens began laying down fire blind.
Two of the guns mounted on the side of the ship returned fire, causing the lights to shift as the wardens moved for cover.
Gibbs returned as the ship began to lift toward the open roof, the direct sunlight blinding. Gibbs helped to pull Mr. Greene aboard as the gunfire renewed from both directions.
Moss’s vision went white with pain as he felt several bullets pierce his body. As if in slow motion, he felt his body fall to the earth as Mr. Greene’s foot disappeared into the ship. With a grunt, he lifted himself up and put a hand on the ascending ramp. As the side of the ship vibrated and tore, Moss felt a hand on his wrist.
Gibbs looked over, terrified as the ship continued to rise. He felt his feet lift from the ground.
“I got you!” Gibbs screamed, trying to get a good grip on Moss’s arm. Moss threw his other hand onto the ramp, trying to get a grip. He began to lift himself as he felt it.
A bullet passed right through his forearm. He lost his grip and slid. Gibbs held his other hand as the ship lifted.
“Hold on!” Gibbs cried, holding on to Moss with one hand and the ship with the other. Moss lifted his arm, but he could not use his fingers. He felt another shot pass through him, and he lost his grip, his hand sliding into Gibbs’s.
The ship continued to lift slowly as Moss felt the fabric of his glove begin to rip.
“Stop the ship!” Gibbs shouted into the ship, but Moss knew he wasn’t heard. The fabric ripped a little more. “It can’t happen like this!”
“Fly, you idiot,” Moss said as Gibbs looked back at him, tears streaking through the dirt on his face.
“That’s not the line,” Gibbs wailed in misery and confusion.
The fabric tore again.
Moss had gotten what he came for. He had saved his grandmother and freed his friends. He was proud of what he had done. If the fall didn’t kill him, the wardens certainly would. He made his peace with it. He had accomplished a lot and had set his friends up for future success.
The last piece ripped, and he felt his body begin to fall to the ground.
Gibbs shouted something, one loose glove in his hand.
Moss’s legs telescoped and took most of the impact as he hit the ground, watching as the ship blotted out the sun. He knew Gibbs was going to try and turn the ship around but also knew Anders was too smart for that. What looked like hundreds of lines of machine gun fire followed the ship as it moved. It shifted wildly to avoid a rocket launched from the ground before disappearing behind the lip of the roof.
Moss smiled.
He knew that Burn would be proud that he got Sandra out. He knew that Mr. Greene’s husband would be elated to see him freed. His heart broke for Judy and Gibbs. Above all, he hoped his friends wouldn’t be foolish enough to try to come for him.
He sputtered blood as the imposing figures of the wardens surrounded him.
The head of one of the chassis hissed open, blowing smoke and dirt in a plume, and he saw the unmistakable face of Warden Ninety-Nine revealed from within.
Moss laughed. Of all the wardens, here was this asshole was again.
He smirked under his mustache. “I knew you’d come,” he snarled with pride.
“Of course, I did,” Moss said in nearly a whisper, “we are the good guys.”
THE END
Epilogue
“Stanley Wu was killed in a riot in Carcer City One earlier this week when the guests became violent against the hardworking employees. This marks a sad day for BA City Miners fans who remember Wu’s game clinching goal against Jerusalem in the ND Cup four years ago. After being injured on the pitch, sources tell us that Wu became troubled and fell in with undesirable characters, even being linked to the terrorist attack on ThutoCo this year,” said the blonde broadcaster whose hologram was being projected into the room. She raised a hand, indicating for the viewer to look to her left as Ndeke Miller, the Miner’s current star striker appeared next to her.
“It’s sad,” He said, eyes downcast before looking into the camera. “It really goes to show what happens when you turn your back on your fans, sponsors and teammates.”
He continued to speak as the door to the conference room opened and Arthur Smith, President of ThutoCo, entered. He was angry and Alice Carcer did not stand for him when he stepped in.
He turned to see the broadcast.
“You see how Derek is covering this?” Alice asked absently. “He has D2E running these stories all day. No one is better at controlling the narrative.”
“No one believes the news anyway,” Arthur said, folding his arms across his chest.
Alice simply smiled. “You’re a fool if you believe he doesn’t control the forums too. That short pants wearing dolt has the public wrapped around his finger.”
Arthur felt his blood boil as she suggested he didn’t understand how the world worked. “That’s not what I’m here to talk about, Alice. You have something that belongs to me.”
She steepled her long fingers. “Your employee was caught inciting a riot in a Carcer facility. He will be returned to you once he has been processed.”
Arthur knew he needed to tread carefully. Since Moss had helped destroy much of ThutoCo’s technology, Arthur had discovered that the young man had immensely valuable programs uploaded to his neural chip. He needed the kid and the information he possessed.
Arthur knew another thing: he couldn’t let Alice know how valuable an asset she had. She would try to tap his chip, use her breakers to extract the intel. If those breakers made a mistake though, a self-destruct sequence would initiate, and everything would be lost.
“We had a significant bounty on him long before you captured him and your own bylaws state that the initial bounty holder has rights to the arrested,” Arthur told her. His lawyers had spent countless sleepless nights coming up with an ironclad argument he could use on her.
Though the Amalgamated Interests Council was Arthur’s brainchild and theoretically supposed to be working toward one common goal, the heads of the plant’s major companies were often at odds. They shook hands and played nice while they employed teams to undermine and sabotage one another.
Alice stared at him, her ever unblinking blue eyes piercing him. “Don’t speak to me of bylaws, I write the bylaws.” She smiled knowingly. “What your lawyers may not have told you is that the arrested belong to the highest bidder.”
She brought up a bounty on the screen, with a value and time stamp. “As you can see, we outbid you just before we took your employee into custody. He is ours.”
Arthur nearly spit as he read the screen. He was outbid by almost nothing, a mere one thousand more than ThutoCo had bid. Even more egregious was the time stamp. The Carcer bounty had been posted a minute before the supposed time of arrest.
He had been outwitted, outplayed by the person who had taken his position on the council.
He hated Alice. He wanted to reach across the desk and throttle her. He wanted to wring the necks of his lawyers for not catching this.
He vowed to make her, and everyone else who stood in his way pay.
“As I said, though, I will do you a courtesy,” Alice smiled. “Once we have what we need, we will return him to you.”
“Unbroken,” Arthur demanded.
“You are in no position to order me around,” she shifted her body slightly and the ceremonial saber at her side rattled against her chair. “But I assure you we have our best people on it.”
Arthur held back a smile. She had said too much. If she had her, “best people on it,” she had no doubt transferred Moss to The Table, Carcer’s main base of international operations.
He smiled as sweetly as he could muster. “Thank you for that.”
He saw Alice’s eye twitch and he wondered if she had figured out his plan. She would no doubt have elite guards watching the facility, but Arthur was confident that his BurbSec Zetas could break in and extract Moss without Carcer being any the wiser.
Alice would have her suspicions but would never be able to prove it.
His team was trained by disgruntled former Carcer operatives and knew all the secrets Alice tried to hide. He would get what was his.
He had his plan, but he still wanted to shame Alice before the meeting was through.
“I hear you traded one valuable asset for another,” he stated, cocking his head with superiority.
Alice scoffed. “That old woman is worth nothing. While she was housed in Carcer City, we beat every last piece of information out of her.”
Arthur let out a laugh. “If you believe that, I’ve got some property on Mars to sell you. That, “old woman,” is one of the greatest warriors BA City has ever seen and her skills turned the tide against Andreas during the war. As long as she breathes, she’s a threat. And now, she hates Carcer more than ever. I’d watch my back if I were you.”
“I have an army to watch my back,” Alice seethed, her normal calm demeanor temporarily cracked. “Who watches yours?”
“The entire AIC watches mine,” Arthur gloated. “You may have a new position, but I am the one who is striking deals with the off-worlders. I am the one who is ensuring the future we are all striving towards.”
Alice grinned and stood. “You continue to tell yourself that.”
As her hologram began to fade, she said, “I’ll say hello to Moss for you.”
NOTE TO THE READER
Thanks for reading Corroded Cells: A Cyberpunk Saga (Book 2). If you enjoyed the book, please leave a review (here), it is incredibly helpful to new authors. Reviews are one of the ways in which people can discover new work and help me to create more of it. Thanks again for reading.
For more information and bonus content, visit ThutoWorld.com
Matthew A Goodwin, Corroded Cells
