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Azure Instance
“Wake up.”
I quickly sat up and rubbed my eyes. Zyla was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, looking pissed.
“What do you want?” I asked her with a yawn.
“We’re leaving,” she said, “So, let’s go already.”
“Wait, we’re going now?”
I turned my head towards the bed stand and noticed my clock:
[8:25 PM]
“Shit, couldn’t you have woken me up earlier?” I groaned, “We’re going to be late!”
“I do what I want,” Zyla said, “Also, don’t get your panties in a bunch - we’re not gonna be late. That car doesn’t drive through until, like, nine-fifteen.”
“But Vincent said-“
“Don’t care,” she cut me off before stepping out of my dorm, “Let’s go.”
I groaned at her before getting out of my bed sluggishly. After that, I turned on my UVR and scrolled down:
Neural Sync Strength: 100%
Thank God it was fully synced. The tingling was gone too. Though, my hand was still twitching a little.
I left the dorm and quickly caught up to Zyla who was race-walking down the hall, adjusting to her pace. We reached the elevator and it began to slowly descend to the level below. Glancing up at Zyla who was to the right of me, I noticed the bags visible under her eyes. She must’ve fallen asleep like I did. I guess we were similar in that regard - I was still half asleep and a little dizzy. I also noticed the red hair tie around her left wrist. The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Zyla resumed walking quickly down the hall as I followed behind. We turned the corner and ended up in what looked like a huge garage. We moved past a black sports car and a silver hovercraft to reach a black-and-cyan, electric motorcycle.
“Have you ever rode on one of these before?” Zyla asked, breaking our mutual silence.
“Um, no,” I answered, “I haven’t. Have you?”
“Three times so far,” she said, “I almost wrecked the first time.”
Gosh, that was reassuring.
Zyla took the hair tie off her wrist and pulled her locks up into a long purple ponytail. She then promptly mounted the bike and started it. The nose of the vehicle started glowing white as the headlight switched on. The motor revved loudly before idling into a low hum. Zyla slipped on a pair of blue goggles and turned towards me, patting the seat behind her.
“Come on, we’re wasting time now,” she beckoned, “Get on.”
I stood there and stared at her dumbly. This would mark the first time I’ve been on a motorcycle, so it was a little awkward for me. I did as she said though, and mounted the seat behind her. She reached back and grasped my hands, moving them around her middle.
“Don’t let go unless you want to fall. If so, be my guest.”
With that, the circular door in front of us dilated, opening into a long dark tunnel. Zyla slammed on the accelerator, immediately speeding into the tunnel. I gripped her middle tightly as we flew through, the walls echoed with the sound of the bike’s motor. The tunnel started to incline, and before I knew it, we were out on the highway riding alongside a truck hauling discontinued automata parts. The cold raindrops stung as they hit my face as we sped down the freeway. The daunting and somewhat beautiful view of the storm-shrouded Altian cityscape panned into view the further we went. My body was soaked and so was Zyla’s.
“Don’t you think that maybe taking a bike into the freaking rain was a bad idea?” I shouted to her, “I mean, we could have at least taken the sports car!”
“It’s just a little water,” she shouted back, “Your suit will warm you up, so stop bitching!”
She had to have been fully awake now considering her attitude returned. She was right however, my body was beginning to feel warmer.
The bike trailed off the highway and we reached a red light at an intersection. Traffic perpendicular to us flew by from right to left as the rainwater from the ground splashed towards us, barely touching the front wheel of the bike. My ears picked up the noise of an angry crowd chanting to the right - A rally was gathered outside a wide building labeled, “South Altai Electric Company.” The protesters were shouting something about the recent blackouts this part of the city had been experiencing. In front of the company’s entrance were a line of decked-out peacekeepers with riot shields protecting the building. I glanced to my left on the other side of the street and noticed two peacekeeper officers idly standing in front of a waterlogged dumpster, ignoring the protesters and speaking with two old men under a large umbrella. One of them looked past the officers almost directly at me, forcing me to turn my head the other way.
“How close are we?” I asked Zyla, hoping I wasn’t annoying her to the point of being thrown to the pavement, “I’m not familiar with Duenba, so…”
“Shut up, please.”
“I’m just curious.”
“Stop talking.”
I took in a deep breath and exhaled a frustrated, “Fine,” before turning my attention back to the officers and the men. Three of them had disappeared, leaving just one of the officers standing with his Zeus-Tek plasma rifle resting in his arms.
The stoplight finally turned green and the bike revved back up. We headed straight, moving into the well-lit street past the intersection. Light emanating from the neon signs painted the road with a multitude of colors. It kind of reminded me how Kueski was with all the advertisements on every corner of the street, albeit with a lot more rain twinkling in neon light - It was honestly rather beautiful. We passed by a building with the words, “AnotherLyfe: Automata hardware company,” stretched across the top of the entrance. Zyla veered the bike to the right suddenly and we ended up in the building’s parking complex. After riding up the lot for a minute or two, we pulled over to a small steel door situated at the end of a row of cars, and stopped.
“Okay, this is the place,” Zyla said as she pried my arms off of her, “I mean, I think this is it. We should call Vince just to be sure. We: meaning you, of course.”
“Huh? Me?” I asked dumbly.
“Yeah, you!” She groaned, “Do you even know how?”
“Not really,” I said as I shook my head.
Zyla groaned again, pulling her goggles off her face and hanging them on the handlebars of the motorcycle. She lifted her right wrist to her face and activated her UVR, muttering something about me being useless under her breath. It beeped and Vincent’s deep voice came through.
“Hey, Vince,” Zyla called, “We’re here, I think. AnotherLyfe, yeah?”
“Uh, yep, that’s right,” He responded slowly, “Head to the roof.”
Without even thanking him, Zyla ended the call as I climbed off the bike and stretched, realizing the ride wasn’t entirely comfortable. She opened up a compartment under the seat of the bike, and pulled out a sizable black bag before moving to the metal door we parked in front of. Her hand gripped the handle and attempted to pull, but it didn't budge. Cursing under her breath, she dropped the bag and unzipped the front pocket before dragging out a device that looks strikingly similar to an old-fashioned clothes iron.
“What is that?” I asked out of curiosity.
“Dunno,” Zyla replied without an attitude to my surprise, “It’s used to break locks - Military tech, I think.”
She placed the device to the left of the handle and pulled the trigger. Two claw-like vices protruded from the top and bottom of the tool, puncturing the hard metal of the door. After a second, a loud metallic pop was heard and the slight scent of burnt glass reached my nose. Zyla jerked the device off the door just as two lines of smoke leaked from the newly poked holes in the metal. She pulled the handle and it opened this time - That thing must’ve fried the lock mechanism.
“Wait,” I stopped her, asking, “Isn’t this technically breaking-and-entering? That’s illegal!”
“Oh, come on,” Zyla said, laughing a bit too loudly, “You seriously care that much about getting in trouble?”
“Well, I’m just worried we might get caught…”
“Ugh, stop being a goody-two-shoes! Even if we are caught, who cares? Wouldn’t be my first time.”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“I would care; I’m a Flawless, remember?”
“Yeah, brag some more, why don’t you?”
“That’s not what I meant-” I complained before stopping short.
I just let out an irritated sigh as Zyla started heading up the stairwell. I followed after her with little hesitation. The stairs, walls, and even railings were made of all the same boring concrete, and the whole place smelled of mold. I noticed a small stream of rainwater running down each step as we climbed, water trailed behind us along the way. I glanced up at my bitchy “supervisor” who was now struggling to climb the stairs. Her footsteps seemed slower and I could barely hear her panting. I wasn’t not doing so hot either - Those stairs totally sucked.
We reached the top finally as we were met with another steel door. Zyla turned the handle and pushed it open with no problem to both of our surprise. We stepped outside onto the roof, once again getting soaked by the downpour. The absolutely stunning scenery of the Altian cityscape met my eyes as it reflected off the wet surface of the rooftop. The plethora of neon colors danced between each drop as the rain bounced off my extended arm. Our Umbra suit’s lights dimmed as we exited the dark stairwell, adding on to the beauty a bit.
I remembered when I was a lot younger standing in my father’s penthouse at the top of the company’s tower. The view of the city from that height was, to put it lightly, utterly breathtaking. I vaguely remembered enjoying the view with my cousin during one of the holiday parties Dad would throw for the company. Kim and I would talk about what we wanted to be when we grew up - She wanted to be a pop star… and I wanted to be a mathematician like my Mom. As I reflected on it, things have turned out a bit different than what we had hoped for: Kim started a big-time industrial metal band with her girlfriends, and I became a fugitive.
Zyla spoke up, “Pretty, isn’t it? I bring Fio to the roof of our apartment sometimes just to take in the view,” and dropped her bag to the wet floor, startling me and causing water to splash in every direction, some of which cascaded into my boots; however, I paid no mind to it. Though, It did snap me back to reality.
“As beautiful as it is, this city is a hell for the common man… or Automata. I’m sure you know what I mean.”
I looked at her and nodded. She was right, too; As much as Altai appears beautiful, it’s no paradise by a long shot.
“They call Altai, ‘The City of Starlight,’ and hold high praise for it,” Zyla mumbled, “But the majority of us NOT living in Central call this piece of trash city a ‘heaven-sent hell,’ or at least that’s what Vince likes to call it.”
I stared out towards the North, where Central would be, rain obscuring my vision slightly. The buildings there were always larger, taller, and shinier than the ones in Kueski. The people there live a life of luxury and without care for the rest of the city.
“Now, we wait,” Zyla said, leaning against the satellite beacon situated on the center of the roof, “The car should show up in, like, an hour or something.”
I slowly moved towards the West end of the roof and glanced over, peeking at the skyway below. It soon became apparent to me exactly how high up we were.
“Binoculars are in the bag,” I heard Zyla say from behind, “Don’t break them though - They were hard to get with all the police running around.”
After giving her a quick nod, I moved to the bag and removed one of the two sets of binoculars. Inspecting it in my hands, I noticed it’s military tech like that lock-breaker Zyla used on the door downstairs. It was simple, sleek, and rectangular in design with a long black bar at the front and two eye holes in the back. I slid the switch at the top of the binoculars into the ‘ON’ position and brought the device up to my eyes, testing it out. How Zyla managed to acquire this hardware was beyond me. Maybe she was a lot better at her job than I gave her credit for.
I peered over the edge again, this time with the binoculars, and scanned the area below. Still no car. All I saw was a bunch of other cars that were just speeding on by. I put the binoculars down and looked back towards Zyla who was now sitting on one of the many industrial-sized cables running across the top of the building. Looking upwards, I noticed the actual satellite was acting like an umbrella for the stuff underneath, effectively sheltering her from the rain. She was looking through her UVR.
“Um, hey,” I called to Zyla as I began to approach her, “What’re you doing - If you don’t mind me asking?”
“Mind your freakin’ business.”
“Just curious,” I said as I took a seat about a few meters away from her position.
“Leave me alone.”
Sighing, my eyes trailed down at my boots. Her attitude towards me just felt out of the blue. It’s like she developed a strong disdain for me as soon as we made eye contact back then.
“Why do you act like this, Zyla?”
“…What?”
“You’ve been rude to me ever since we first met at Mac’s diner, and I still don’t understand why.”
“That’s just how I am, so deal with it.”
“Are you sure?”
Zyla hesitated then finally mumbled, “I’m sure.”
Her mood seemed to have shifted. Before, she was irritated, but now she just looked upset. It could have been fatigue catching up with her, or it could have been something else entirely. I just didn't see what bothered her so much. I studied her face a little more.
“Leave me alone,” She repeated, “You have a job to do, so do it.”
I stared at her blankly for a few more seconds before obligingly returning to the edge of the roof, binoculars in hand.
So much for staying dry… And socializing some more.
----------------------------------------
[9:30]
There was zero sign of the black car. We had been on this roof for quite possibly an hour now, I was hungry, and my boots were soaked from the inside.
“I swear to God,” Zyla spoke, “If this stupid-ass car doesn’t show up in the next five minutes, I’m leaving!”
She had lost her patience, and I was right along with her - If the car didn’t show, then we would have been waiting up here for nothing. I peered through the binoculars one last time and scanned the road below for literally anything suspicious to appear. There was nothing.
“Zyla,” I groaned, “It doesn’t look like they’re going to show up.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” She complained, “I’m, like, seconds away from walking down those stairs and going home!”
Before I could respond, something caught my eye, something moving slower than the traffic below us: It was the black car, and it was about damn time, too! I called Zyla over enthusiastically and she immediately rushed to my side with her own set of binoculars in hand. The car pulled over to the shoulder of the skyway and slowed down to a halt. Two male figures clad in dark blue dress suits exited the vehicle and opened the trunk. The taller of the two pulled out what looks like a large silver briefcase. Definitely sketchy.
“Start taking pictures,” Zyla muttered, “Try to get their faces in frame.”
I did as I was told and began taking the best possible photos I could with the binoculars’ camera feature.
“What do you think they’re doing?” I asked Zyla, “Vincent said they’re smuggling drugs into Kueski, right?”
“Yeah,” She answered, “That briefcase is suspicious as hell, ain’t it?”
I noticed something off about this band of thugs, however and took a closer look at them.
I mumbled, “There’s something familiar about those men, though. Are we sure they’re just dealers?”
She looked at me and raised a brow, asking, “What do you mean? There’s a black sports car, two shady dudes, and a briefcase - That’s like putting a big sign above their heads saying, ‘Hey, look at me, I’m smuggling narcotics into Eastern Altai’!”
“No, I mean, they look familiar, like I’ve seen them before,” I reassured with confidence, “Dark blue suits are usually linked to the terrorist group, Atlantis, in Kueski.”
Zyla shot me a weird look and asked, “Terrorists? You’re confident these guys aren’t the same drug smugglers Umbra has been tracking for the past week?”
“Positive. I read everyone’s file in the cylinder, and not one of us is from Kueski - Well, except for me.”
“And, what? That automatically makes you an expert at tracking terrorists?” She asked with a cocky grin.
“Come on, everyone knows about Atlantis, even those not from the East,” I let out a disgruntled sigh and continued with, “When I was little, one of my dad’s company offices was suddenly taken hostage by a bunch of dudes wearing the same suits those guys have on. They wanted the CEO of Koikuna Industries to pay a four-million Jivit ransom for the employee’s lives. Technically, they’re more or less just gangsters, if you really think about it.”
“Damn,” Zyla muttered under her breath, “So, that means… Vince was wrong about these assholes the whole time?”
I was taken slightly aback upon hearing Zyla believe me so haphazardly. I half expected her to at least attempt to contradict my statements, or shrug off what I told her. It was interesting to say the least.
“It’s very likely,” I replied to the purple-haired woman, “So, what should we do? Do you still think that silver case is full of drugs?”
Zyla rested her binoculars on her thigh before she hesitantly reactivated her wristband, saying, “My UVR is detecting a ton of flux radiation from down there.”
“That’s bad, right?” I asked her dumbly.
“Really bad,” She retorted, “Any old briefcase full of that purple shit would hardly show up on an old Geiger counter! There’s something big inside the briefcase, and whatever it is, we need to contain it.”
I had forgotten Umbra’s whole reason was to recover and contain that Fuxinite stuff. Maybe it was me who didn’t pay attention at the briefing, or did I forget during my nap? To be honest, it feels like I've been going into this job completely blind. On the other hand, it’s interesting to see how a person like Zyla can be so serious about her job.
“We need to follow them.” She said bluntly.
“What!? But, they could kill us!” I whined, “Vince wouldn’t even let us go after those guys, I bet.”
Without another word to me, Zyla opened her UVR’s interface and called Vincent. Let’s just say, my heart sank from anxiety.
“Yo, Vince,” She started, “Car showed up and it’s about to leave. We’re gonna follow it. Is that cool with you?”
“Go for it, Dutchess,” Our supervisor’s voice buzzed out of Zyla’s Wrist, “Just don’t bust up that bike, okay? Repair fees are a bitch with the steel shortages right now.”
She hung up after simply saying, “Okay, thanks.”
I stared at her with a dumb expression, as if I was suddenly put in my place and embarrassed at a dinner table. She looked back at me with a smug grin on her face and let out a cheeky little giggle at my expense.
“If you want to get paid a little more, then come along,” Zyla laughed, “If not, then stay here - I won’t stop you.”
It was at this point I felt a trickle of freedom of choice enter me. I was so used to letting others make decisions for me my whole life, I thought that going against orders would yield a punishment of some sort. I’ve never felt so… Invited to do my own thing. This felt good.
“Fine,” I mumbled, “I’ll go with you.”
Zyla’s smug expression quickly shifted to one of shock. I supposed she didn’t expect me to actually keep moving forward.
“Um… Wow, okay,” She grumbled in disbelief, “Hope you’re prepared for a little more reconnoiter then.”
With a solemn nod, I reassured Zyla that I was ready. She spun around and began making toward the door to the stairwell, bringing along the duffle bag of military tech she brought with her. I followed her before glancing back at the beauty of the city skyline in the rain one last time - The ‘heaven-sent hell.’