As we rode in the back of Sally's car blowing through the sprawl that ringed the Patchwork District I couldn't help but notice how dirty everything was. Trash littered the ground. Haphazard structures made of discarded shipping boxes filled the alleys. Drunks lay on the sidewalk passed out, looking very much like the frozen corpses they would become once winter arrived.

We were passing through a limbo world between the thriving chaos of the human run Patchwork District and the neat but decaying order of the Möhin. And as we did I found myself wondering about the nature of social structures.

The Bone Syndicate for all their flaws contributed to the overall function of the city, if not necessary its wellbeing. Looking at them objectively it was clear to me that the reason that they had thrived was because they provided services that were in demand.

The cops allowed them to operate not just because they enjoyed the bribes, but because the Bone Syndicate also imposed rules on the criminal population. While the Syndicate did extort and murder, public acts of random violence like drive-by shootings that might cause an outcry were becoming fairly uncommon.

The average citizen understood that when someone was executed by the Bone Syndicate it was for a reason. That meant it could be avoided if they played by the rules. So to the average citizen the Bone Syndicate was not just a source of forbidden goods and services, but also order and stability. Even if they didn't recognize it they were relying on the Syndicate to maintain the status quo.

The politicians also needed the Bone Syndicate because they provided ways to get things done when the proper channels might not work. And of course the bribes were nice.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

That meant that even if we managed to kill every member of the Bone Syndicate it wouldn't last. The people would welcome, or at least tolerate, anyone willing to feed their hungers. There would be a new Ruhern within the week and life would continue on as it had before.

Sacher had simple attainable goals. All he wanted to do was kill Ruhern for murdering Kasha. "Fuck." I swore, realizing the mistake that we had made. "Sally, find someplace safe and pull over."

Gershwin looked over to me with mild concern as Sally parked the car. "What's wrong?" He asked.

"Sacher." I growled, feeling the rage rise within me. "He's going to use us to draw out Ruhern then make the kill and slip away. He doesn't give a shit what happens after as long as he gets revenge. We're heading into a fucking ambush."

Sally and Gershwin shared a look I couldn't decipher. "It's the only thing that makes sense." I continued. "That's why we met at the brothel instead of a safe house, he wanted someone to see us together and tell Ruhern." Another piece clicked into place. "And that's why he wasn't shy about saying where we were going, he wanted someone to overhear."

There was a quiet pause as my revelation hung in the air. Finally Gershwin spoke. "We aren't going to fight the Bone Syndicate, my son. We're going to take them over. Killing them, even if we could, solves nothing."

That was when I understood what was really happening. The higher ranking members of the Bone Syndicate used wetware, even the lower level grunts like the bruisers were packbound. Since it was based on the same tech as my Warhund augmentation that meant it could be hacked. Gershwin could copy himself into their wetware and use them as puppets. It would take a while for the personality to fully assert itself but in the meantime he would be lurking behind their eyes, pulling the strings.

The worst part was that it really could work. In fact it was the only thing that would work. But once Gershwin had control of the Bone Syndicate there would be nothing stopping him from taking over Möhi. He would replicate freely like a virus controlling anyone with compatible wetware. It would be one nation, one planet, under Gershwin.

"Fuck." I said softly. "You're going to try and take over the world, aren't you