Things are a bit weird between Niko and I the next morning. By usual unspoken agreement, we don’t discuss how either of us acted last night- neither of us would come out of that conversation looking particularly good. But it hangs over us like a cloud, as we creep through the Citadel’s streets, early enough that the sun is barely beginning to crest over the horizon by the time we reach the Ivory Tower.
Neither of us has had cause to visit the imposing, pure-white monolith that sits in the center of the Citadel. It’s the hub around which everything here turns, ostensibly, but students don’t actually spend much time there under normal circumstances. The administrative staff is located within, as well as the Dean, who occupies the uppermost office. And at the very bottom lies the staff’s private teleportal hub.
Thanks to Professor Kore’s unexpected generosity, we’ve not only got the access codes for the portal network itself, but for the security system surrounding it, which would have been quite the challenge to bypass otherwise. A challenge I was more than willing to undertake, with Sofie’s help, but it’s probably a good thing we don’t have to do all that. Kore also agreed to give Sofie the updated codes so she can help us get back after our trip, since it would be a weeks-long trip by conventional space travel otherwise, not to mention the fact that we’d have to be dropped into the jungle on the other side of the planet and fight our way back, to avoid the unauthorized presence of a spacecraft in the moon’s atmosphere from being detected.
Still, I can’t help but feel a little frustrated by the way the professor just handed us the codes without a fight. It contradicts my every instinct and impulse, which say that expecting good things and relying on generosity or luck is the stupidest thing you can do in life. Yet here we are.
Rather than enter through the front door, we head in via a side entrance, which slides open without issue as we approach, thanks to the codes Niko now carries. Beyond is a maintenance corridor, surfaces all polished steel, empty now, but not for long. We’ve got about twenty minutes before the first shift of the janitorial staff arrives for the day. That ought to be plenty of time, but neither of us is inclined to push our luck right now.
So, I ask silently, as we head down the hall, our shoes clacking against the metal floors. What does your Regalia actually do?
The information is publicly available, there’s a registry out there somewhere on the brainband. I could have just downloaded it the moment I got curious, and Niko knows that. Which means he’s probably- hopefully -aware that I’m trying to make conversation, and ease some of the tension between us.
Shoots lightning, he responds tersely.
Like, electrified rounds? Or…?
Actual lightning.
After that, he doesn’t cut the connection, but neither of us speaks. If he doesn’t wanna talk, that’s fine by me. Except it’s not, really. I don’t want him to be upset with me- I don’t even want to be upset with him. But I don’t feel like I actually did anything wrong last night, and a significant part of me still thinks that he’s just upset because I mouthed off at his teacher-crush, which I only said before as a joke, but now seems like it might actually be true. And that means I’m probably just mad because I’m jealous, even though that feels absurd, because obviously I’m far too clever and smart to be ruled by such a petty, base emotion.
Dating is terrible, apparently.
The worst part is, despite all of this, I still couldn’t stop my heart from skipping a beat when I first saw Niko this morning, decked out in black camouflage, all stuff he bought at that little tactical clothing stall in the market we went to the other week, a few days before the War Games. Shoulder holsters, a utility belt, and all of it paired with that jacket he wears like a cape, sleeves hanging loose and empty. Somehow, he manages to make it work.
Neither of us brought luggage for this trip- it’s only a couple of days, and his contacts will apparently be providing our basic necessities while we’re there. I considered wearing a crop-top, but those are probably off the menu for me until I get a new body, thanks to the nasty scar I’m now sporting from where Anand stabbed me. Thankfully, my ears have fully healed- the days where I could barely hear anybody without them having to shout at me were exceedingly frustrating. Instead, I’m wearing a double-breasted black coat, with the collar turned up. More conservative, more guarded, than how I usually dress, but it feels appropriate.
The Citadel is the only place besides Demeter VII that I’ve been in my entire life- in person, at least. And I’d like to think I’ve adapted pretty well. But it’s not a real city, it’s a miniature replica, a fantasy camp for the Nobility. Where we’re headed is decidedly… not that.
Niko’s Regalia, which a quick search tells me is called the Hurricane Howl, is in the private collection of one Anselm Salzwedel, on the planet Liese. That’s not where we’re headed, though. Not yet. Liese is a largely uninhabited world, with most of its surface area serving as a massive nature preserve, owing to its unique wildlife and fragile ecosystem. For the ultra-wealthy, however, it’s their private paradise. Salzwedel has a mountainside estate on one of the planet’s highest peaks, with an unparalleled view of the savannahs surrounding it. When he’s not busy buying up rare, priceless artifacts and items like a lost Regalia, he’ll get together with his rich friends and go on illegal hunts in the planet’s wilderness, hoping to snag a trophy from one of Liese’s more exotic animals.
Naturally, Niko doesn’t have any contacts on a planet like that. In fact, he doesn’t have very many contacts at all. Noble or no, he was pretty small-time back before he came to the Citadel. So we’re headed to the place he grew up. Limbo City. A massive, grungy metropolis on the planet Viņsaule, ruled by corporations at the highest level, and criminal organizations like the triads, yakuza, bratva, and others. Despite being of Russian heritage from several of his parents, Niko ended up falling in with the triads, specifically the Red Sun Syndicate, a relatively small organization that’s yet to spread beyond this planet. Of course, relatively is the operative word- they’ve got about fifty thousand members across Viņsaule, mainly concentrated in its major population centers.
Limbo City is a megalopolis, spanning some hundred and sixty thousand kilometers, with multiple distinct urban core, where you’ll find the gigantic, towering buildings that house interplanetary corporations, not just their offices, but the homes of many of their employees, whose lives are tied so deeply to their employers that everything they eat, drink, and quite literally breathe- filtered air being a hot commodity in a city like this -comes from them.
In addition, there are the housing blocks, tall but compact in order to take up as little surface area as possible, gigantic, rigid, brutalist rectangles where thousands of people live in apartments little bigger than prison cells.
That’s not where Niko grew up. He was born in the Kerberos Cluster, a small collection of asteroids literally tied together to form a free-floating community in the depths of Imperium space. About a year after he was born- by which I mean, after his consciousness was instantiated, years before he’d get his first body -his family moved to Viņsaule. Exactly why, he’s never shared, but I get the sense that it wasn’t by choice, because they ended up becoming indentured employees of the Polemarch Conglomerate, a massive interplanetary arms manufacturer. According to Niko, most of his parents haven’t stepped foot outside the Conglomerate’s headquarters in years. And under the terms of their contracts, he would have been forced into that same situation, were he not a Noble.
Obviously, nobody wants to have kids in a situation like that. Some corporations make their employees sign contracts saying they’ll have a certain number of kids who will go straight to work for the corp, but Niko’s parents weren’t in a situation quite as bad as that. Still, since he was already a part of the family, he would have had to abide by the terms of their contract, if he wasn’t a Noble. That status supersedes even the authority of a massive corporation like Polemarch, meaning they couldn’t force him to live within their facility. So he didn’t.
As soon as he was able, Niko fled, leaving behind his family and the Conglomerate to live on the streets of Limbo City. Without a Noble’s instincts, he wouldn’t have lasted a day. But unlike most of the other unfortunates who end up on those streets, he survived. Thrived, even- by becoming an enforcer for the triad.
Niko doesn’t like talking about his past. It’s taken a long time for Sofie and I to pry even this much out of him. And right now, he doesn’t seem inclined to answer any idle questions. But I still have to ask, because heading into a place like Limbo City blind seems like a good way to get killed.
Rounding a corner, we follow wall-mounted signs to the teleportal hub, which doesn’t seem to be far now. Tentatively, I prod at our brainband connection, the psychic equivalent of tapping him on the shoulder.
Yeah?
…what’s it like there? I ask gingerly, not wanting to set him off again.
What do you mean? he asks back, still a little bit of an edge to his voice, but not as sharp as before.
In the city, I mean.
Initially, he doesn’t answer, remaining silent for an uncomfortably long stretch while creeping down the hall, both of us careful not to make any sounds that might alert anybody who could be down here.
It’s big. Noisy. Smells bad. You know.
Frustrated, I flick my tail back and forth, but accidentally smack the barb against the wall, making a surprisingly loud sound. Freezing in place, mortified, I pull the prehensile appendage back under my shirt, wrapping it around my upper body. Niko doesn’t say anything, but glances over his shoulder, and I look away, trying not to meet his eyes.
I really don’t know, I retort, less firmly than I might have if I hadn’t just embarrassed myself like that. Usually he’d just have made a joke about it, but the fact that he didn’t suggests we’re still not entirely cool. Up until, like, a month and a half ago, I lived on a fucking farm. Give me something to work with here.
Out loud, Niko sighs. We turn another corner, and at the end of the hall, I can see a large, reinforced metal door, which is pretty obviously the one protecting the hub. Or, more accurately, protecting us for anybody who might come out of it. Hijacking a teleportal is, while difficult, not impossible, and they’ve been used before to insert kill-teams, and even entire armies, into the heart of enemy territory without warning.
It really is big. There’s buildings there with more people in them than some entire cities. I’d look out at them at night and feel like an ant. That was before I left.
Left the Conglomerate’s towering headquarters, he must mean.
Down on the street, it’s different. The neighborhood became my entire world. I knew people, and they knew me. Most of the people in the LC are anonymous. Either they live in a corporate building, where they’re just a number, or they live in a block, and they’re just a face in the crowd to everybody that sees them. But the triads, they’ve got an actual community.
Another pause. We’re almost to the door now.
I mean, they aren’t… good people, I guess. They do bad things. I did bad things. But they made me feel like a person for the first time in my life.
That… might be the most vulnerable he’s ever gotten with me. Before I can respond, though, he stops right in front of the heavy metal door, secured with some giant mechanical lock that, as he transmits the codes, begins to shift and move.
While we watch, the door basically unfolds before us, not swinging on any hinges, but retracting into the surrounding walls. After several seconds, it stops moving, and Niko walks straight through. I follow close after, not lingering in the doorway for fear of what might happen to my body if it suddenly closed up around me.
“Okay, this is it,” he says, with a relieved sigh. The teleportal just looks like an empty doorframe standing in the middle of a large, circular room, with a control panel nearby. Niko walks over to it and transmits the code, causing the screen to light up.
Tapping a set of coordinates into the control panel, Niko sets our destination, and pauses for a moment before pressing his finger against the button to confirm. The teleportal hums to life, a shimmering white veil appearing inside of the doorframe.
Rather than walking through, I lean against the side of the teleportal, feeling it vibrate slightly, and gesture to it with a dramatic flourish.
“After you, my prince.”
Niko cracks a smile, for the first time since last night, and I do my best not to start celebrating. Still, after he steps through the veil, I do allow myself a sigh of relief. We’ll probably have to unpack that whole thing with Professor Kore eventually, but for now, it feels like things between us might be okay.
----------------------------------------
The first thing that hits me is the smell. It’s not raw sewage like I was half expecting, but it’s still strong. Smog, sweat, urine, and the acrid scent of nuclear fuel intermingle in the air, invading my lungs. Before I can take two steps, I start coughing, and Niko turns, puts an arm around my shoulder, and helps me move away from the teleportal.
Any city of this size has hundreds of public teleportals, more than enough to accommodate all daily traffic without becoming clogged. As a result, they aren’t really monitored or guarded, aside from a few security cameras. The traffic isn’t logged either, thankfully, else the two of us transiting in from the Citadel would probably have raised some red flags.
This particular public portal hub is in what seems to pass for a public park in Limbo City- a tiny scrap of greenery with a lone swing set, the swings themselves long since removed, no doubt for the chairs to be used as weapons or to restrain somebody. With Niko’s arm still around my shoulder, I let him guide me away, out onto the streets.
“C’mon, we gotta get out of here.”
We’re not even on the actual streets of ‘the LC,’ as Niko called it. Looking around, I realize we’re on a massive walkway between two huge megabuildings. On both sides of the walkway are structures that look like they started as temporary street stalls, but grew and expanded over the years, large and more successful ones muscling out their competitors until they’ve grown into permanent installations. One of them seems to be a pub, with a semitransparent curtain ringing around the bar to give the illusion of privacy. Another looks like it’s a gun store, with assault weapons on racks behind the counter, and a grizzled guy with a cheap prosthetic arm hawking his wares in six different languages. ‘The streets aren’t safe,’ he says. ‘Protect yourself.’
The ‘park’ we’re stepping out of is the only hint of greenery in sight. Nobody pays us any mind, and not a minute after we’ve emerged from the portal, somebody else comes out, a harried-looking woman in a sari who rushes off in the opposite direction of us.
“It reeks,” I complain quietly, before going into another coughing fit from having to breathe in to speak.
“You’ll get used to it,” Niko assures me, with a pat on the back for good measure. “Now get moving, we’re meeting Saffi nearby.”
That name isn’t one I recognize- he’s only referred to the people who’ll be helping us with this as ‘my contacts’ before now.
Quickly blending into the crowd of people crossing the walkway, we head towards the nearer of the two massive buildings it spans between. As promised, I begin to adjust to the air quality, but as soon as that starts, the sound begins to bother me. So many voices surround me, I feel like I’m lost at sea. Vendors promoting their merchandise in so many languages that I can’t tell what’s even being sold, people haggling, arguing, chatting, or just rambling out loud to nobody. Niko takes his arm from my shoulder as I stand up straight and start breathing normally, but I grab his hand and hold tight, suddenly afraid we’ll be separated. There are more people. around us than I’ve ever seen in one place in my entire life. Seeing crowd shots in movies doesn’t do it justice, at all.
You doing okay? Niko asks, seeming to sense my discomfort. All of his earlier standoffishness seems to have dissipated upon seeing me acting vulnerable. Some shitty, cynical part of me files that information away for later use.
Getting by. It’s not too far?
Nah. She should be in the atrium of this mega. Eighty-third floor.
Not long after that, we reach the end of the walkway, which leads directly into the megabuilding, no doors, just a hangar-like opening that we pass through. The buildings interior is a huge atrium with a triangular design, ringed by walkways that are connected by staircases, stretching up and down to such distances that it looks practically infinite.
The walkways inside of the building are vast, to the point where I guess that’s what each floor of the building consists of, a bunch of apartments and suites with a tiny community consisting of stalls, shops, and even restaurants right outside your door. All designed so you don’t ever have to leave if you don’t want to. These aren’t like the ‘blocks,’ housing designed for those who can barely afford to sleep indoors at all. Nor is it luxury apartments, either. This is housing for the semi-comfortable middle class, the kind of people who, on another world, might actually be able to afford a home, even if they wouldn’t own it outright. Here, the idea of owning property at all is a joke- but if you can afford a reasonably nice apartment in a building like this, you’re doing pretty good for yourself.
Thanks to the bridges connecting many of Limbo City’s largest buildings, like this one, you could probably go your entire life without setting foot on the planet’s surface. Walk- or take a hovercab -from your apartment to where you work, then back again. Maybe visit another megabuilding to see a friend on the one day off you get every week. That’s all there is to life for a lot of these people. And they don’t even seem that unhappy about it. Certainly, there are worse fates to meet in a city like this.
Whoever this ‘Saffi’ is, I’m sure she doesn’t live here. Depending on how high up she is in the ranks of the Red Sun Syndicate, it’s conceivable she could afford one of these apartments, but the triad would never allow that. They like to keep their people close, and they primarily operate on the ground, not up here in these buildings. Protection from the gangs is a big selling point for buildings like this, so they take security seriously. I see turrets hanging from the ceiling, inactive but undisguised, as a clear warning to anybody looking to start extorting the stall owners and restaurateurs around here- more than the megabuilding already is, at least.
“Three floors up,” Niko says, pointing to a boldface yellow sign painted onto a nearby wall, reading ‘80.’ Makes sense that the floors connected to the skybridges would be at even intervals. Easier to coordinate construction that way.
We head for the nearest stairwell, passing by a stall where somebody’s selling knockoff fieldball jerseys for players I’m pretty sure don’t exist. Though part of me would like to hang around and explore for a few hours, I keep pace with Niko, who moves with purpose through the building, weaving his way in and out of the crowds. According to my internal clock, it’s about midday here, and there are probably a few hundred people on every floor, based on what I see from glances across the center of the atrium to the other side. The building is big enough that it doesn’t feel too crowded, which makes me feel a little less claustrophobic.
Though we’re moving fast, I try to take in as many of the people we pass as possible. Almost everybody here seems to be sporting some kind of visible body modification, from a woman with fractal, insectoid compound eyes, each facet a different color, to a man with a six-legged lower body. Many of those modifications are pushing up against Imperium law, but in Limbo City, the corporations are the real law, and they don’t care much what you look like, so long as you do what they pay you to do. That doesn’t extend to their executives, of course, who are expected to maintain properly human appearances at all times- but creative types and rule-breakers don’t end up as corporate executives, for the most part.
It’s not long before we reach the eighty-third floor, which seems to be even more active than the three we’ve already passed through to get here. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out why- all I have to do is look for the source of the pulse-pounding music. A hypno-electric dance number is reverberating throughout the area, emanating from the open doors of Endless, a nightclub that doesn’t seem to put much emphasis on the ‘night’ part of the name. Why anybody would be willing to pay to live next to a club that never closes its doors, I have no idea, but I suppose some people have no other options.
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Even outside of the club, people are dancing, entranced by the beat. I can feel the hypnotic sound tugging at my consciousness, and it takes effort to resist. Obviously, it’s not powerful enough to actually hijack anybody’s mind, but overwhelmed as I am, my mental defenses are weaker than usual. To ground myself, I grip Niko’s hand a little tighter.
“Who should I be looking for?” I ask, leaning close to whisper in his ear, so he can hear me over the music.
“Friend of mine,” he replies, while scanning the atrium for any sign of her. “Safiyyah, but she goes by Sapphire. I call her Saffi. Changes her look every so often, so I can’t promise any description would be totally accurate, but she’s always wearing something pink.”
“Pink, huh?” I muse, doing my best to tune out the music while I look around for her. Together, we wander ‘round the atrium, and I breathe a sigh of relief when we get far enough away from the club that the noise fades to a dull, tolerable hum.
Though the multitude of modified bodies is rather distracting, I do my best to stay on-task. Eventually, my eyes fall upon a dark-skinned woman with braided blonde hair, wearing a pair of pink-tinted sunglasses, leaning against the railing of the atrium, looking bored. Her outfit is eclectic yet practical, consisting of a shoulders-and-sleeves-only jacket and tactical harness over a black t-shirt emblazoned with a stylistically defaced corporate logo, and tight dark-blue jeans with a holster strapped to her hip.
“Think I got your girl.”
Niko turns to look where I’m pointing, and when he sees the woman, his face lights up. Releasing my hand, he starts toward her, and I follow close behind.
“Saffi!”
Hearing her nickname, she looks in our direction, and gives Niko a nod, looking cool as can be. Guess that’s part of the job description when you work for the triad. She looks to be about our age, maybe a few years older, though obviously appearances don’t mean much if you don’t want them to. But if she was really in her sixties, I feel like Niko would have told me.
“What’s up, pup?” she asks, and I chuckle. It’s a clever nickname- Niko’s founder was called Stormwolf, which makes him a wolf pup. But she doesn’t seem to care that I appreciate the joke, just looks me over once and then turns back to him. “This is your new boss? She doesn’t look like much.”
So that’s how it’s going to be. I’m not gonna let this be a repeat of last night- my only option is to assert dominance right now, or she won’t follow my orders when we’re on the job. Lightning-quick, I whip out my tail and press the tip to her throat, turning my expression cold.
“Looks can be deceiving.”
The two of us lock eyes, and stare each other down in silence for several long seconds. Niko doesn’t say a word, just looks between us, expressionless, but clearly torn. Finally, Saffi laughs.
“I see why Niko likes you now. He always had a thing for girls who could kick his ass.”
Sounds like a peace offering to me. I pull my tail back and offer my hand for her to shake.
“Iza.”
“Sapphire. I watched the match the other week. Your little demolitions trick was clever.”
“I do my best,” I reply, sardonic.
Clearing his throat, Niko steps halfway between the two of us, drawing our attention back to him.
“If the two of you are done with… whatever that was, we should get a move on.”
“Sounds good. Where are we headed?”
“Down,” Saffi replies, jerking her thumb in that direction for emphasis. Somehow I don’t think she’s just talking about a lower floor of this building. She means ground level, the grimy surface of the planet. The streets of Limbo City, where Niko came up. By all accounts, it’s one of the worst places in the Imperium to live, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit excited to see it.
“Great. Let’s hit it.”
----------------------------------------
The streets of Limbo City are… well, nice certainly isn’t the word I’d use. They’re dirty, caked in a layer of filth, trash, blood, and bile that nobody’s bothered to clean up. It smells more like raw fish and urine down here than up there. But it’s nowhere near the nightmare I was expecting.
For the most part, everything looks ordinary. Rundown storefronts with flickering lights, ramshackle apartment buildings with shoddy ventilation systems and clothes drying on lines between buildings, awnings covering tiny balconies with single, rusting lawn chairs. Many of the buildings are built directly underneath the megabuildings, which are so large that they were built stories off the ground, with massive, sturdy pillars holding them up. They look strong enough that if an earthquake ever hit, I’m sure the megabuildings would still be standing, even if everything else completely collapsed.
Most striking are the neon signs that seem to be protruding from every building, in any number of different languages, though Chinese characters seem most common, which stands to reason, if this is the triad’s territory. They may not have much sway up in the clouds where the corps rule, but down here, they’re the only real power.
In the road, I see a couple of hovercars, but for the most part, they seem to be using traditional land-bound vehicles. They still run on nuclear fuel, of course, but they’re much less efficient, and consequently cheaper.
The sky down here on ground level is somehow less clear than up in the megabuildings. Smog casts a grey pall over everything, which only those who can afford to live beyond the surface can escape. Somehow, it feels appropriate- walking around a place like this with a clear blue sky above us would be incongruous, dissonant.
Sapphire’s voice cuts through the ambient sound of the streets, capturing my attention immediately.
“Come on. We’re going to the Bazaar. Mother wants to see you.”
She’s… probably not referring to one of Niko’s actual mothers. More likely a Syndicate higher-up who happens to be an older woman, and adopts a matronly disposition as a cover for her acts of horrific cruelty. Or maybe it really is just some kindly old woman Niko happens to know- but I doubt it. And I’m gonna be on guard either way.
Niko and I fall in behind Saffi, proceeding briskly down the street. I try not to think of what I’m stepping in as I follow them, doing my best to acclimate to the environment without letting our guide tell how out of place I am.
It hasn’t taken long for Niko to get comfortable here again- but I guess he hasn’t been away for that long. The way he navigates these streets with such confidence is impressive. All I can really do is emulate him for now, and hope that my false confidence becomes real sooner rather than later.
A short walk through the streets later, we arrive at a narrow, unassuming alleyway, little more than a gap between two buildings. To pass through, we have to edge by overflowing dumpsters and avoid puddles of what I can only hope is just rainwater. But when we reach the end, all there seems to be is a concrete wall, covered in the tattered remains of some advertisements for a concert that seems to have taken place six years ago.
“You wanna do the honors?” Saffi asks, tilting her head towards the wall.
With a shrug, Niko steps forward, and feels around on the wall for a few moments, until he touches upon whatever he’s searching for. Activating some hidden mechanism I can’t see in the darkness, he steps back, and watches as the wall slides open, revealing to us the Bazaar.
Illuminated by neon signs and paper lanterns alike, the Bazaar is a bustling marketplace that seems to have sprung up in the gaps between buildings down here on the streets of the LC, a little haven of unregulated commerce and community unknown to the corporations and what passes for law enforcement here. Some of the vendors are selling ordinary wares, not too different from what we saw up in the megabuilding, albeit significantly cheaper, but many of them are openly promoting things that would be highly restricted contraband just about anywhere else in the Imperium.
A ‘pharmacy’ stall has everything in stock from prescription medications that many down here likely can’t afford to get legitimately, to the most dangerous narcotics I’ve ever heard of, and plenty that I’ve never heard of at all. They sell guns up there too, but compared to the ones they have down here, those are practically peashooters. This is a black market in the most literal sense.
Though I try not to look like a total tourist, I can’t keep myself from looking every which way as we head through the narrow streets, drinking in the atmosphere like I’m dying of thirst. This place feels real, unlike anywhere I’ve ever been before, and I can’t get enough of it.
“You wanted to see where I grew up?” Niko asks me over his shoulder. “This is it.”
Indeed, as we continue through the Bazaar, several of the vendors take notice of his presence, calling out greetings or asking how he can be here, when he’s supposed to be off at the Citadel. Niko returns the greetings and waves off all questions with an easy smile. Considering what his job with the triad was, he’s probably shaken most of these people down for protection money in the past, if not worse, yet still they love him.
Though it’s probably a component, I can’t attribute that all to Niko’s charisma and good looks. Part of it is probably that the triad, while not exactly nice people, does represent security and stability to these people. If they disappeared one day, they’d be replaced with an even more unpleasant group, who would probably kill half of these people just to make an example. That might sound like an exaggeration, but it’s really not.
Someone from a different, more insulated world, like where Sofie comes from, would probably question how things got this bad here, and why the Imperium allows it to stay that way. Reasonable questions, though obviously not ones with simple answers. Some would chalk it up to the fact that this system doesn’t have a Noble governor, because it’s in territory that was claimed after the War of Conquest, and thus after all of existing Imperial space was divided between various members of the Nobility. Instead, the system governor is selected by a popular vote, albeit from a group of pre-screened candidates vetted by the Imperial bureaucracy. And given the corruption and nearly-unrestrained corporate power at play, it’s more accurate to say the corporations are the ones choosing who makes the rules.
My answer would be a little different. Even if there was a Noble in charge around here, things would probably look much the same. Or if they didn’t, it would be because another planet elsewhere in the Imperium would be just as bad instead. It’s necessary for a place like Viņsaule to exist, because it serves as a deterrent. Something to motivate the citizens of the Imperium to work hard, and never stop working, lest they end up with nowhere else to go, and end up like Niko’s parents did, indentured employees of some megacorporation. You don’t need to coerce someone directly with a gun to their head when you can just as easily threaten them indirectly with a life of miserable poverty.
Needless to say, there are some changes I would make, if I was in charge.
After a few minutes worth of walking through the Bazaar, we finally end up at our destination, which seems to be a storefront built out of the back of one of the buildings surrounding this hidden market. The sign, in half a dozen different languages, reads ‘Mother Hen’s Fried Chicken,’ with a cute little graphic of a plump, matronly chicken sitting on some eggs. A bit macabre, considering the implication is that the mother hen is selling her offspring to be eaten, but that could very well be an accurate representation of what this Mother person does. After all, Niko and Saffi are fairly young, and they would have been much younger when they started working for the triad.
“You ready?” Saffi asks, looking genuinely concerned for Niko. All he does is nod, and head in through the doors. I move to follow him, but Saffi puts a hand on my shoulder and shakes her head.
“You and me, we’re gonna wait outside ‘til they’re finished.” The tone of her voice indicates she’ll brook no dissent, and I’m not inclined to push my luck right now, not on this topic. Worried though I might be for Niko, I’m also in no position to go to war with the Red Sun Syndicate on his behalf. Still, if they hurt him, I fully intend to make destroying them one of my highest priorities.
Arms folded, I take a seat outside of the chicken joint, one space away from Saffi. Neither of us speaks for a long stretch, and I’m content just to take in the slice of the Bazaar I can see from this spot. At a small stall, surrounded by a swirling circular matrix of holo-screens, stands a large man who seems to be selling his services as an information broker. Next to him is an androgynous individual wearing a nearly transparent plastic robe, whose stall seems to contain boutique, illegal mem recordings- ‘Beyond Your Wildest Fantasies.’ The likely contents of those recordings makes me shudder just to think about.
“Neat trick with your tail back there,” Saffi says abruptly, perhaps unsure of how else to start a conversation when we began things with such open hostility. For my part, I’m trying to keep an open mind about her. Unlike Kore, she doesn’t seem to set me off just by existing, and it’s nice to know that I’m not so jealous that I’ll go into a frenzy any time another woman looks in Nikos direction. I’d have thought that was obvious, considering I’m already sharing him with Sofie, but the whole incident last night had me genuinely concerned.
“Thanks. You don’t seem to have any mods- any reason why? Gotta assume it’s not a triad thing, since Niko got away with those cute lil horns of his.”
“More of a chrome girl,” she responds, rolling up her sleeve to expose her forearm, which has a visible seam running down its length. As I watch, it splits down that seam, revealing itself to be a cybernetic replacement limb, concealing a wicked-looking gun beneath the false flesh. I give an impressed whistle.
“Nice piece of hardware you got there. Necessary replacement, or was this a voluntary procedure?”
“Bit of both,” Saffi answers, as the arm closes up and she rolls her sleeve back down. “Took a couple bullets, the docs said my arm was ‘irreparably damaged.’ Up at the Citadel that would probably be grounds for an instant rez, but the wait times down here are absurd, and I figured I’d rather get it cut off and replaced than spend six months waiting to get a whole new body.”
“You’re making me wish we had a cyberclinic up there,” I confess, with another glance at her arm. “Would love to surprise everybody with a built-in gun come the next War Games.”
“Or some organ mesh, keep you from getting stabbed again,” she laughs, and I try not to blush, only now realizing she must have seen what happened between me and Sofie, just like everybody else. Thankfully, she moves on from that pretty quickly. “Could introduce you to our guy while you’re here. Maybe get you a friends-and-family discount, assuming everything goes okay with the pup and Mother.”
When she mentions that, I look over my shoulder, as if expecting some sign from inside the restaurant that things are okay. Nothing reveals itself.
“What’s her deal, if you don’t mind my asking?”
Saffi purses her lips.
“She runs this place, for the Syndicate. If you want to set up shop here, you do it with her blessing or not at all. Gotta pay tribute, too. In exchange for protection, of course.”
“And you’re the ones who provide that protection? You and Niko?”
“Among other things.” Saffi sighs. “They call her Mother because she likes collecting kids. Like him, like me. Nothing… creepy, if that’s what you’re thinking. Or at least not in that sense. We’re just easier to work with. Less likely to be spies, more malleable. You’ve seen how the pup operates. Normal people don’t behave that way, even Nobles. All of that is her influence.”
She’d be surprised how many other Nobles act like Niko, I think. But I don’t argue the point.
“Guessing she wasn’t thrilled about losing him, then.”
“Nope,” she answers, popping the ‘p’ like bubblegum, which I’m kind of surprised she isn’t chewing. It would really complete her whole aesthetic, with the pink and everything. “We all knew it was coming, but it was still a loss. And for him to come back so soon, asking for favors… she could get annoyed. All depends on her mood, really.”
Great- so this entire operation is in the hands of some capricious old triad middle manager. In the back of my head, I start reviewing my memories of how we got here, trying to figure out what the fastest path out of the Bazaar would be, if we needed to leave in a hurry.
After that, the conversation sort of dies, and Saffi and I go back to sitting in silence. Thankfully, the door to the fried chicken restaurant swings open a few minutes later, and Niko walks out. Physically, he seems fine, but I can tell by the look on his face that he’s been through it.
“How’d it go?” Saffi asks, keeping her tone casual, though I can tell she sees the same thing in Niko’s expression that I do.
“Fine,” he replies flatly. “We’re in business. Let’s head to the Den- I need a drink.”
----------------------------------------
Niko barely says a word the entire way to the Den, which I gather is the place he, Saffi, and the rest of Mother’s teenage triad enforcer squad live. Much of Niko’s prior enthusiasm about returning to Limbo City has vanished- I guess his interaction with Mother ripped the rose-tinted goggles right off of his face.
The route we take from the Bazaar is circuitous, almost labyrinthine, passing through back alleys, abandoned buildings, and at one point, even up onto the rooftops and back down. Saffi and Niko navigate it with ease, and I manage to more or less keep pace with them, though it’s a challenge at times.
Limbo City is nothing like the Citadel- while the latter is in so many ways uniform, this place is more of a patchwork, closer to a natural formation than something planned or designed. The heights of the buildings around us vary wildly, as does the quality of their construction materials. One will be halfway to collapsing, while the one next to it looks like it was erected yesterday. And they’re all in the shadow of the gargantuan megabuildings, which look like they were just dropped onto the city by another species altogether, they’re so far removed from anything that’s happening down here.
To be honest, I’m starting to like it here. Limbo City feels real, in a way unlike anywhere else I’ve ever been, short as that list is. But I’ve got no intention of telling Niko or Saffi that, if for no other reason than that I’m a tourist, unlikely to experience any of the real hardships while I’m here. Raving about how ‘authentic’ everything feels, when they’ve had to experience all of that up close for their entire lives, would be pretty insensitive of me.
Without warning, the two of them stop outside of a nondescript door, which shudders open to reveal a cramped, dingy elevator, which all three of us barely fit into. Instead of putting in a single floor, Niko punches in a seemingly random combination of buttons, after which a chime sounds, and the carriage begins to ascend. It rattles and shakes the whole way, which makes me somewhat uncomfortable- I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve ever been in an elevator, and half of those instances happened today.
“This is it,” Niko says, as the elevator slows to a stop, and the door opens jerkily. “Home sweet home.”
The Den doesn’t look much like what I was expecting the hideout of a bunch of teenage triad enforcers to be. No empty takeout boxes or stains of unknown provenance. It’s a bit messy, but aside from that, pretty nice. Hardwood floors, potted plants that seem to be well-tended, a shelf full of physical books, and even a wall-length false window, the hexagonal tiling telling me that from the outside, it looks like solid concrete, but from in here, we can see out into the city, which suddenly looks a lot more squalid from in here. The walls are brick, with a TV set into it on one side, and a handful of paintings hanging opposite it.
“Not bad, huh?” Saffi asks, noticing me looking around in surprise. “Nobody knows this is here but us, else scavengers would already have been by to take everything not bolted down, then back again with crowbars to take everything that is.”
As soon as we cross the threshold, Niko makes a beeline for the liquor cabinet, pulls out a bottle and pours himself a drink. While he slugs it back, Saffi heads for the couch and drops down onto it, putting her feet up on the coffee table.
“Mother must really like you, if she puts you up somewhere like this.”
The both of them laugh, not without some bitterness to it.
“She rewards people who are useful to her. Took us a long time before we earned a place this nice. You remember that rathole we used to squat in, pup?”
“Don’t remind me,” Niko replies, and takes another drink.
“He was pretty big in getting us out of there,” Saffi says to me, gesturing in Niko’s direction. “‘S why it’s named after him.”
Oh, like a wolf’s den. I get it.
“Funny,” I say with a chuckle, kicking off my shoes and ditching my heavy black coat. “So, let’s get down to it. You have intel for me?”
Looking a little annoyed that I want to go straight to business, Saffi clicks a buckle on her tactical harness and lets it drop to the couch behind her, before stretching her arms wide and yawning.
“Yeah. Hold on.” She angles her head towards the loft’s upper floor, which I can only see the underside of from here, and shouts. “Tommy! Get down here!”
“One minute!” shouts back the voice of a younger boy, followed by an intensification of a sound I hadn’t realized I was hearing before- someone typing on an analog keyboard. Legacy tech, made obsolete by the advent of holo-screen tech and the brainband.
About two minutes later, someone comes tearing down the stairs at manic speeds, very nearly colliding with Niko in the process. He stops short, drawing breath as if to chastise the person he almost ran into for not getting out of the way, before he realizes who he’s preparing to tear into.
“Niko! You’re back!”
His arm shoots up, palm open for a high-five, and Niko gives him one, a grin spreading across his face for the first time since his encounter with Mother.
“Toldja, kid. And I brought a friend.”
The kid turns to me, gives me a once-over, then scrambles over to where I’m sitting, still moving so fast I can barely keep up with him.
“Izanami, right?! I saw you on the holo the other day! The way you took out that guy with your knife was totally wicked!”
“Thanks,” I start to say, but he keeps talking, so fast I can’t get a word in edgewise.
“And that girl who was with you after you got stabbed, she’s super pretty. Is she your girlfriend?”
My mouth responds before my brain can censor the words, and I say “Uh, yeah, mine and Niko’s.”
Tommy’s mouth falls open, jaw slack, and he slowly turns back to face Niko. Then he crosses the room in a flash again, once more standing next to Niko, who’s more than a head taller than him.
“My MAN!” he shouts, raising his hand for another high-five, which Niko returns, while shooting me a sheepish look.
Tilting down her pink-tinted sunglasses, Saffi looks at me, expression sympathetic.
“This is Tommy. Our resident digital safecracker. He’s been digging up intel on this Salzwedel guy’s place. Show her what you have, T.”
“Got it!” he chirps, and sends a massive data file my way. It’ll take a while to sift through all of it, and I don’t have my full copyclan available- all but one of them are back at the Citadel, helping maintain the illusion that the real me is still there, and taking care of managing the unit while I’m gone, too. But I left one copy inactive, in case I needed to spin her up while I was on this job, which seems like it was the right decision.
“This looks solid,” I conclude, based on my initial assessment. “Floor plan, security system, guard patrol patterns… shit. You’re the real deal, kid.”
“Thanks! Running cybersec for Mother is boring, so this was real fun. You guys are planning on breaking into this place, right? That’s fuckin’ wicked!”
“Yeah, that’s the idea,” Niko says, and starts pouring another drink. I send him a brainband ping asking for him to do the same for me, and he replies with a silent chuckle.
“It’ll take a bit before I can put together a plan,” I inform the group, as Niko comes over to where we’re sitting, three drinks in his hands. Saffi and I each take ours gratefully, while Tommy heads back upstairs, evidently used to clearing the room when the adults are talking. “Gotta know, though… what are we looking at in terms of resources? Your boss give us a budget or something?”
Niko sighs.
“Mother says we’re allowed to spend as much of her money as we want, so long as we bring enough back from the job to pay for it all afterwards.”
Wonderful. So if I decide retrieving the Regalia is gonna take a six-person team, recouping the cost of hiring all those people is going to be added to our list of objectives. And Niko doesn’t need to say the words for it to be obvious- if we borrow more than we can pay back, we’ll all be in deep shit. I’m not stupid enough to think that being a Noble will protect me from the triad’s wrath.
“Okay. I can work with that.”