Laredo Torre

Hideous.

The Block. Sprawling. Filthy. Shabby constructions clung to old concrete monoliths like mold. A few skyscrapers thrust grimly upward, one half-constructed, tarps and blankets trailing in the wind, the others dark in patches. Wind howled through their abandoned floors, an eerie keen that grated on his ears even from here. Narrow roads were choked with tents. Tacked-on tunnels snaked from one building to the next, obscuring the wider streets. Cobwebs of soot and electric cables left the entire Block grungy. No matter where he looked, dirt, dust, grime.

Laredo Torre hated filth.

In his mind’s eye, he swept the mess away. Down to the bare earth. Over the rubble, he poured smooth concrete, beautiful, fresh concrete. New buildings rose from the base. Glass glistened in the sun. Gold streaked down the sides or capped the skyscrapers, a tasteful addition. Low buildings sloped around the higher ones, white concrete and gold glass. Miniature gardens of manicured trees and shaped shrubs dotted the roofs. Broad roads in sparkling clean concrete cut swathes between the buildings, lanes and lanes of open traffic bustling with vehicles as the rich came to their new playground.

The keen grew louder. Snapped back to the present, he scowled at the dirty Block far below. To make new, I must first destroy.

“Mr. Torre, sir. A messenger from the fifth branch,” his bodyguard murmured, deferent.

He nodded slightly. Good news, I hope. Seirios could be a tricky bunch to deal with, but their deal wasn’t bad. A few brats from the slums in return for high-class muscle. He could steamroll the Block without them, but Seirios’ muscle had a reputation for a subtle hand and unquestionable success.

Masen had been behind timeline on gathering the kids, last he’d heard. He frowned. Useless. Can’t even snatch a handful of brats no one cares about. Seirios had a way of dealing with those who disappointed them, and this time, Laredo couldn’t fault them. If they didn’t punish Masen for this embarrassment, he’d do it himself.

The door opened behind him. Labored breathing and a limp. Laredo didn’t turn, but his brows furrowed, and he pressed his lips together.

“The only survivor of the fifth branch,” the bodyguard demurred.

In the reflection on the window’s glass, he made out the man’s shape at last. One leg struggled to hold his weight. Blood leaked from his gut and thigh and dirtied the white suit.

The vein on Laredo’s forehead twitched. “You failed.”

“The…there was a kid. Masen… didn’t gather the, uh, ‘subjects’ in time, so Seirios… sent an assassin. He murdered us all. One kid.” Wide-eyed, the man shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe his own words as he spoke them.

“How many kids remain?” Laredo asked evenly.

The man shook his head. “None. None. She… she took them all away.”

“She? A girl did this to you?”

He shook his head again. “No, there…”

The bodyguard moved to Laredo’s side and whispered. “When reinforcements arrived, they caught sight of a woman. Tall. Blonde ponytail. She led the kids out. Took the boy who killed us all with her.”

Laredo scowled. He spun, drawing a gun from under his jacket. His brow furrowed, and he pulled the trigger.

The man screamed and went down, blood spurting from his other leg. It soaked into the immaculate white carpet. The vein on Laredo’s forehead throbbed harder. It would have to be replaced, all of it.

“Useless. All of you.” He slid his gun back in his jacket and nodded at the bodyguard. “Terminate him.”

The bodyguard lifted the man and retreated. Blood smeared over the carpet. The vein in his forehead throbbed harder.

“No! Please, stop! I can still help! I promise! I know, I know—I, please, sir! Plea—”

The door shut, cutting off his voice.

Laredo sighed and lifted his tablet. “Daya, contact Seirios. See if they’re still willing to negotiate after this failure.”

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“Sir,” the woman responded from the other end of the comms.

Most companies employed bots for their receptionists. Cheaper. Simpler. Less insubordinate. Laredo Torre didn’t agree. Nothing could replace flesh. Not completely. A bot could be hacked or gimmicked. A bot would blindly accept identification and believe any lie, as long as there was evidence, even crude, obviously faked evidence. A human had common sense. A human could second guess.

Harness was the worst of all. Exo-harness was one thing, but partial or full harness… to take metal instead of his born flesh, to embed a weak, hackable piece of silicon into his hallowed mind so he could move that clunky, inflexible metal. He couldn’t understand it. How could anyone consider harness superior to the natural order of things? Metal should remain metal, biology should remain biology. To mix the two, especially as Seirios did… it made him shudder.

Even for a man like him, a deal with Seirios was the same as a deal with the devil.

His thoughts turned back to the assassins. A woman and a child. He pressed his lips together in a grim grin. Seirios has the same terrible taste as ever. They were disgusting, scum of the earth, but nothing could compare to having a few of their tools at hand. Distasteful though they might be, a tool was only a tool in the end. Easily borrowed, easily used, easily forgotten. If he disagreed with their ideals, all the better, because the tools they loaned were meant to be disposed of.

He only had to hope that they hadn’t been turned away by the mess Masen had made.

The bodyguard’s voice sounded in his earpiece. “Sir, incoming.”

“I’m not in the mood for visitors,” Laredo said.

He stared at the sky. A blinking blue light stood high in the atmosphere. Serene. Clean. Perfect. He wasn’t one for religion, but if he had to choose gods, there were worse choices.

The door slid open. The vein started to throb again. “I said—”

Two shapes appeared in the window’s reflection. A broad-shouldered bald man, face almost entirely replaced with metal, body hidden under a heavy coat. Two cameras regarded him darkly from the eye sockets, and a speaker hung where the man’s jaw should be. The second had a thin frame that could’ve belonged to a boy in his upper teens, slender, tall, and narrow. Shaggy hair hung in the teen’s face, leaving only one flat, mirrored lens visible, embedded directly into his eye socket. He wore ripped layers and tastefully torn jeans, and, unlike the man, wouldn’t have looked out of place on the streets below.

Except for his arms, that was. One overly long arm snaked nearly to his ankles. The other looped back on itself, thumb hooked into his belt. Each of the dozen or more whitish segments of his arms connected to the next with a half-dozen thin, flexible cables. The result reminded Laredo more of whips than arms.

Disgusting.

Grudgingly, Laredo turned. “Seirios.”

The teen regarded him silently. Laredo’s own face reflected in the lens, a man in his forties, wrinkled brow, dark hair carefully coiffed, white suit impeccable. After a second, the teen scoffed and turned away, taking in the room instead.

He resisted the urge to scowl. Fucking Seirios tool. Subhuman scum.

The bulky man stepped forward. The speaker replacing his mouth throbbed. “Laredo Torre.”

The voice that emerged was elegant, intelligent, an ill match for the man who stood before him. He raised his eyebrows. “Afraid to meet in person?”

Laughter emerged from the speaker. “Found me out so soon? I’m afraid I have a busy schedule.”

“And I do not?” Laredo asked scathingly.

“Ah, I’ve put my foot in it again. See, this is why I never go in person. You’d have shot me.”

Laredo took a deep breath through his nose. The vein on his forehead throbbed harder than ever. Even if he works directly for the Asteri who run that shithole, he’s still the same as the rest of these Seirios scum. And he dares to look down on me?

He closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell once, a heavy breath. When he opened his eyes again, his voice was measured, if not calm. “Masen, I understand. The man was utterly incompetent. But an entire branch for a single missed deadline?”

A sharp intake of breath echoed over the speaker. “That was… a mistake. Our tool went rogue.”

Laredo cocked a single brow.

“In compensation, I’ve sent two of our best tools. I’ll send a candidate as well, once he’s fully calibrated. Not only will we cooperate fully in your plans, but we will also assist you in taking revenge on the rogue tool.”

“You mean you’ll clean up your own mess,” Laredo said flatly.

The voice hesitated. When it spoke again, there was a note of embarrassment in the man’s voice. “Caught me again, haha. Well, it is true. But you have our full cooperation. A valuable pledge, as you know.”

He turned back to the window, to the mess outside. All the dotted, distant lights. People crawling like ants over a dunghill of ancient construction. “By the end of the week, I want bulldozers on the streets.”

Laughter. The man’s face remained deadpan, disconnected from the voice speaking through it. “Then I suppose we’ll be busy.”

The door flew open again. “Father, can I—”

Cold eyes cut in her direction. Laredo’s lip twitched in disgust. “Leave.”

Laredo’s bodyguard grabbed the girl’s hand. Her silvery, horrible hand. His own flesh and blood, corrupted, taken in by the siren song of the harness. She stared openly at the tools, but didn’t resist as she was dragged out.

The bulky man turned. A dry chuckle came from the speaker. “Your daughter?”

Laredo sighed. If only I could start over. A fresh slate, a clean daughter without any chips or metal. “Unfortunately.”

“We could improve her.”

His eyes narrowed.

Another laugh, deeper this time. “It was a joke. Then, until next time?”

Metal squealed, and the bulky man turned. The teen followed him, silently.

Laredo watched them go. Only when they were gone did he take a deep breath and allow a shudder to run down his spine. Horrifying. They were an abomination, a blight upon humanity that pushed harness technology further than it was ever meant to be pushed, a lab that dared to truly merge human and machine into one. When he’d reformed the Block and money flowed like water, when he had so much capital even the Asteri behind the lab couldn’t stand against him, he’d destroy Seirios Labs.

But for now, he needed their tools.