CHAPTER THREE—MAX AND STAXX STYLE

“Wow,” Kyle said as he glanced through the intel package May had sent over on their secure connection. “They really do have all their bases covered.”

“How is it,” John asked as he flew them to the space port, “that they have guys in the computer mainframe that can just rewrite the metadata to cover our tracks? We’ll basically be invisible after all this is over. It’s like they had this set up far in advance.”

“Yeah,” Kyle said, glancing down at his feet on the floorboard. Their sweet Corvo he had purchased just two days after the Yates job. After stealing that douche’s car and almost getting shot down by missiles, Kyle had no choice but to buy them one.

For old times’ sake, of course.

“Do you think this thing could be about corporate espionage?” John asked.

“Who knows.”

He had got theirs in neon yellow with a black stripe running across the sides in horizontal alignment with the doors. The interior was black leather with yellow accents. John thought it was totally tacky, just like Yate’s car, but Kyle was digging this ride and the color scheme he had chosen.

“Damn I love this car,” he added.

“Stay on target, Kyle,” John said.

“I am on target,” he said. “This car was destined for our hangar. It’s too bad Max and Staxx can’t use it.”

“Would you pay attention and read the package material,” John said. “We’re going to land at the space port in ten minutes.”

“It’s no big deal,” Kyle said. “We walk in there, we buy primo tickets for the Chylaxium cruise and we take care of that tramp Hess and then spent a week at Ela Luna Keys. Easy.”

“You know, for the guy that usually plans things out a little more, you sure are lackadaisical and indifferent.”

“Hells, yeah!” he said with a laugh. “Like you said, John, we laugh in the face of the overlords and enjoy ourselves.”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“There’s a line between reckless and stupid.”

“Well we haven’t crossed over into stupid yet, trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

John smiled slightly but said nothing.

“Just roll with it, man.”

“I am,” John said as he lifted his fingers from, the steering wheel.

“You know,” Kyle said, glancing out the window at air traffic flying through the city skyscraper lanes, “Even if May and her people are up to no good—this whole world sucks.”

“Oh no…” John began. “Not with that morose stuff again.”

“No, hear me out,” Kyle said, feeling good. Life City was brightly lit—what could be called “brightly lit” after those corpo-douche overlords dampened the sun and stole all the life from the world. “This world is fucked up, and even if May is a piece of work like nine tenths of the rest of ‘em, working with her and her people still allows us to pull off some pretty crazy shit.”

John shrugged. “You have a point,” he said. “A necessary evil.”

“Exactly!”

“Something to consider next time you decide to go off on our benefactors.”

Kyle laughed.

“We’re there,” John said, changing lanes and turning into the space port lane.

The space port, of course, was huge. It was the main port for Life City, the capital of Ororis Prime. Ships were in dock around the main hub, a massive dome-shaped structure with public maglevs leading to and from the port on the ground. The port was littered with lots and pads for public ground and air vehicles.

The computer pinged, assigning them a specific pad to land on.

“Shit,” Kyle said as he glanced at the display between them. “Do they always have to send us way out to nowhere? What’s the point of owning a Corvo if you have to walk or take a freakin’ rail line?”

“We’re just not VIP enough,” John said. “A few hundred billion short of that.”

Kyle as the heir to a fortune of billions was incredibly rich. John was less rich, but still a billionaire. His private holo-net security firm raked in piles of money serving the ultra-rich and privileged.

More necessary evils.

The super-rich got to have privacy, while the commoners had somebody in some dark office logging how many times a day they went to the bathroom. “I think being billionaires to begin with should afford us some extra conveniences.”

“We probably just don’t support the space port initiative with enough donations,” John said. “Maybe we can do a job related to this sector next.”

“Hells yeah.”

As they cruised in toward their assigned destination, ships ascended into the atmosphere. The clouds were actually distinguishable today because of how bright it was. Usually the skies were an overcast grey as a matter of normalcy.

“Beautiful day,” John said as the Corvo whined to a stop.

“We should move to a planet where they don’t block the sun,” Kyle said. “Then you could rightly call it a ‘beautiful day.’”

“Come on,” John said. “If we don’t move it, we’re going to be late.

“We didn’t even come up with a plan yet.”

“We’ll figure it out on the way. That does tend to be Max and Staxx’s style,” John said as he hit the doors and got out.