Prolog

Olivia was following him around, again, but even the little tagalong couldn’t ruin Flash’s mood. He had managed the score of a lifetime and he hadn’t even gone through integration yet. He tried to keep the smile off his face but the best he could do was a mean looking smirk.

The tunnels were quiet this early in the cycle. The lights slowly turning up from sleepy time dim but they weren’t yet to full work cycle bright.

“Hey, Flash? Where are we going?” Olivia’s voice sounded oddly loud in the near silent tunnel.

“I am going to get some wetware installed for my new job. I don’t know where you are going Olivia. If you don’t want to follow me to the clinic you could go wherever you like.” Flash’s clear disinterest in the younger teen’s question failed to shut down the conversation.

“Wow, your new job comes with wetware. That’s Ionic! Lady Kara says that only the best of the best of us can expect to get wetwear as part of our signing bonuses. Did you pass some really hard tests?” Olivia bubbled.

“Something like that, ya.” Flash stopped trying to hide his emotions, letting his full smirk out.

It had been so easy. All the adults at the creche constantly preached about the importance of following the straight and narrow. Not just the letter of the law, but the spirit. They claim that at any moment a Justice could find you. A Justice would see through you in an instant, no lie could save you, so better to be right with the Law.

Ha, maybe one Justice came down to the entire lower hive once a deca-cycle. Their rep as all seeing and all knowing, it was likely as exaggerated as their omnipresence. Flash was sure that behind all those Skills and Chrome they were just as fallible as any of the creche teachers. How could the gangs exist if every infraction was caught? How could the Eloi raid the lows if no evil went unpunished. The world wasn’t just, nor fair. So Flash would take everything within reach and hold onto it for as long as he could. Besides, as long as he used the skill boost before his integration there would be no proof. The skills would be part of him, unscannable, unalienable.

Flash flicked his eyes, opening his hub’s notes tab, making a reminder to check that the rest of the Chrome Owls used their skill boosts too. A suitable vague reminder in case a Justice scan really could grab and compile his personal drive. Just because he had played everything so smooth didn’t mean one of the others wouldn’t get sloppy.

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“Wow, you have a real piece of wetwear? What does it look like? Is it all neon and chrome like in the vids? Can I see it?” Olivia said as she pulled on Flash’s sleeve.

“No!” Flash reacted instantly and loudly, pulling away from the grasping hand. More quietly “No Olivia, this is my whole future on the line. Maybe when I get to the clinic you can look at the packaging but I’m not taking any chances.”

“Ok, I understand.” The hurt look on Olivia’s face belied her agreeable response.

Flash caressed the case in his pocket holding the skill boost. He was almost there. The case made it look like a standard primer any well to do kid might take before integration day. Or the kind of primer an indenture included in their contract to make sure the new hire had the minimal skills needed. Flash knew what it really was of course.

The Chrome Owls had lifted a black market shipment of illegal skill boosts on behalf of the Cleaners and this one boost was more than half of Flash’s payment from the job.

Everyone knew that shady deals happened in the Lows. The network was patchy this far down so even a full sector going static for a few seconds wouldn’t draw any unusual attention, let alone a small maintenance tunnel off a branch passage.

It wasn’t what Flash had expected from a gang sponsored job. It had been so easy. No violence, no running his guts out trying to avoid security drones. Activate the spoofer provided by the Cleaners, swap the shipment with a dummy that was good enough to fool the drones, put the real shipment in the shielded courier pouch and calmly walk away. The whole thing still felt unreal, but the case in his pocket was proof.

This wasn’t a general primer, or even the basic training of a job skill with a few sub skills most indentures included. This was three, combat related, skill groups worth of boost. Not skills you could buy on the open market. They were Flash’s ticket to Uppers, maybe even the Mids one day.

Anyone could learn combat skills, no law against that, but you couldn’t buy them without a license or sell to anyone without one. Licenses that required connections, money and more. If the wildest rumors were believed, inexplicably proof that the license holder already had a basic mastery of combat skills was also a requirement. Only the people from the Middle Hive could bring all of that together. Good thing for Flash that they weren’t the only people that needed protection.

Most people with the right mentality for combat learned the basics in the militia, the Mid’s budget solution to Eloi raids. Flash didn’t think much of that. Joining the militia was for chumps. Maybe you lived long enough to master some valuable skills but probably you died and your body was dragged into the Underhive and eaten. Besides, who wants to train pain resistance by getting stabbed? Hard Pass.

The augmented reality neon lights above the clinic formed in his vision just before Flash rounded the bend in the tunnel that brought the actual storefront into view.

A Stitch in Time

“Is that where we’re going Flash? To the clinic? I thought you said you wanted to install some wetware, what does stitching have to do with getting augments?” Olivia asks

“Nothing,” Flash responded, the annoying questions finally dampening his mood. “It’s just a name, Olivia. Names don’t have to mean anything. It’s just what Papa Doc decided to call his clinic.”

He was going to make it. No last minute run in with a Justice, no retribution from whichever faction had been smuggling skill boosts through the lower, no last minute backstab from the Cleaners. Just pay the doc to administer the skill boost and keep a low profile until integration in a few months. What could go wrong?