Chapter 4

Yun-Seong Kaneda

The next day, I woke up bright and early. Always did, though Layla beat me to it every time.

Today, I stared up at the ceiling. When a knock came at the door, I ignored it. He came in after a moment.

“I didn’t answer.”

“Yeah, but I know you. You were up.”

I leaned up and looked over at my dad. He was shorter than me. That was the first thought that came to me. I hated it. All my life, he’d been taller than me. A giant, in so many ways. Then, one day I stood up and I just… towered over him.

He was still in pretty good shape though. His black hair was thinning but his black eyes were still sharp as he looked around my room for a moment.

“Hmm. You haven’t added any posters?”

“Not much point. We’ll move out soon.”

We shared a look. Neither of us smile, but I think he saw the same amusement in my eyes that I saw in his. I reached for my watch on the old wooden table next to me and tapped it. A projection popped out of it, flashing a light across the room as the clock appeared in small holographic font. It was early. I had time.

“Going out again?” he asked idly. I saw right through it.

“I know you want to say more than that.”

“Not going to allow an old man to beat around the bush?” he said in Korean.

The old game. I responded in Japanese. “I never saw any need to do something like that.”

He smiled. It was something we’d done when we first tried getting to know each other. Trading our first languages and practicing English. One of the ways to try and break the ice.

Then he hardened. “You and Layla. You’ve been out later and later. Coming back bruised. And unless I’ve been told differently, you dropped boxing and rugby at school and she dropped gymnastics and trick dancing, so I know you both aren’t practicing with the teams over the summer.”

I said nothing.

He moved to sit in front of my desk. I rose and sat on my bed. “Yun, I know this wasn’t what you wanted when you first moved in with us.”

Dad put his hands together. “Your mom and I. When we first wanted to get you two, we promised to protect you. Give you better lives. And I’m sorry to say we failed.”

A little rush of pain filled me. “Dad, you know we don’t think that.”

“You don’t need to. I feel that way,” he rubbed his forehead. “I can complain about how things ended up this way. About Tengan matches and overconfident bosses. Fucking baka,” he winced, realizing what he said. “Um…”

“I’ve heard curse words before.”

Dad still looked regretful but continued. “Point is, ever since the first time you gave us money for rent, I didn’t want to ask too many questions. But you can’t just expect me to overlook this. If the social workers find out-”

“They won’t find out anything.”

“-if they find out, the social workers will take you away. Maybe they put you back into the system, but I’m guessing it’ll be juvie,” he snapped. He leaned forward. “I know you want to help. But I’d rather we live a hard life, than risk losing you. You don’t have to take risks. Just go to school. Train. You and your sister can have a future—a wonderful one. So, please. For our sake.”

I rubbed my neck. “I… yeah. I’ll be careful. I promise.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“No,” I lied again.

My dad’s foot was tapping slowly on the carpeted floor. Outside, the sound of fighting in the courtyard could be heard. Thin cement walls. Everything could be heard.

“Yun, come back home on time tonight, okay?”

“I will,” this time I was telling the truth. The job today was taking place in daylight.

Must have been enough for my dad either way. He got up, rubbing his arms. Then he shook brief. His arms stiffened. His jaw slackened. I wanted to get up and help when I watched his eyes roll upward. But the free clinic guy said this was normal. So I just waited, trying to keep calm, as my father lost control of his body. When he came back to himself, he looked horrified.

“Sorry. The shakes, sometimes I-”

“It’s okay, dad.”

“I-I’ll see you later,” his fist shook. He clenched it tight.

He looked tired. Same as mom. Both exhausted.

I wanted to ask him questions. If he had luck finding a new job. If mom was able to get the promotion she’d asked for. More, even more.

My eyes caught the hole in his skull as he turned away. It shone silver in the light, under his hair—a space as big around as two thumbs, with metal inside. I knew if I looked deeper inside, I’d see the logo for his old company just above an open port.

I closed my eyes. Today. Today we could fix everything. Just needed to get the job done.

Locking the door, I opened up my closet. I tended to keep anything important in a plastic bin in the back. Which included my ‘weapons’. Really just a few things I didn’t want to carry around if I could afford not to. Until I got shot at yesterday. Between that and the importance of today's job, it was worth the risk of looking suspicious in return for safety.

First, my jacket, a thick dark red plastic-carbon thing. Cheap, but durable. I’d slapped some scrap into the elbows and forearms, sewing them in. It wasn’t much, but it let my elbows hit people with chrome without hurting me. I put it on, grunting at the tightness of it. I've gained some muscle recently. Still, it would protect me.

Then my pants. Old military ones, something from the Cyborg Rebellions. Big thick fake kangaroo leather, with enough room for me to add more scrap metal to the knees.

After that were my gloves. Red as well, they had thick padding on the knuckles and reached up to my forearms.

For my shirt, I wore a black compression shirt with a hole in the side. Light enough to offset the weight of the rest of my gear while still being durable.

Finally, I grabbed a metal stick. It was a piece of steel about three feet long. Nothing special about it. But as an old teacher taught me, a metal stick is as good as a sword in the right hands. Every weapon is a stick with extra steps. Better than nunchucks at least…

When I caught myself in the mirror I wanted to sigh. I looked ridiculous. I’d need to stay out of sight of the cops since my elbows and knees were clearly armored. But hey, at least they were armored. Best I could do on a budget.

When I left my room, Layla was waiting. She was geared up as well. Her white pants were baggy up to the knee to hide the armored pads on her shins and knees, the material going from baggy white to skin-tight purple at the hips to increase her range of motion. Her boots were a thick pair of violet leather with some padding on the top. Her white jacket was zipped up, hiding the plastic plate meant to protect her heart. Like me, her hands were protected by gloves, though hers were purple and thinner.

Our ‘armor’ was pathetic. If we ended up depending on it, it wouldn’t last long. But it was the best we could do. And if all went well, our fighting skills would carry us through where our gear failed.

“Mom talked to me,” Layla said.

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“They still here?”

“Had to leave for work,” she looked uncomfortable.

“Second thoughts?”

“More like fifth ones,” Layla sighed. “You think Sam is going to cheap out on us again?”

“No, Cherie is going with us. She’ll make sure we get paid. And even if he cheaps out, we’ll still be making enough cash to help mom and dad.”

She perked up at that. I eyed her again. “Not taking a weapon with you?”

“I’ll just depend on my line,” she patted it with a smile. She’d painted it. Violet, like a large portion of the rest of her clothes. Guess she was going for a theme. The magnet line hummed briefly at her touch.

“Then let's go pick mine up.”

She grinned and pulled out her earphones from her pocket. “Music?”

“Always,” with a tap of my watch, a song began to play, something old school from the 2020’s. I put in my own earphones and connected both sets of them to my smartwatch. Just like that, we were vibing.

We walked out together. I bounced my head as we walked, listening to the music. The morning was still cold, so the walk was brisk. We passed by our tarp neighbor. He gave us a wave while his dog rubbed his head against my knee. I petted him and moved on.

Downstairs, blood was getting cleaned off the courtyards. As we passed the yakitori stand, where one of the workers was wiping down.

“Any winners?” Layla asked him, nodding towards the blood.

“Just the cops,” he grunted. “Think one guy died.”

We moved on.

After a long walk, we ended up at Jane's. He wasn’t working tonight, but my magnet line was resting on his back counter, along with other people's stuff. Other repairs at a guess.

I put it on and sighed at the feeling of the familiar weight of it back on my back and arm. I may not have loved lining as much as Layla, but I didn’t enjoy being unable to go where I wanted when I wanted.

Being stuck in Sam's car reminded me of that. Knowing he could just toss me out and I’d fall to my death.

From there, it was off to meet Sam. Back into the air, feeling the chill of the morning rush past us, humidity leaving us soaked.

I watched Layla fly overhead, zipping right through an advertisement hologram made to look like a gorilla roaring in rage while holding a tube of adhesive. Moving through the brilliant neon and rusted steel of the slums.

It didn’t take us long to reach our destination. The top of a building near the Industrial District. Not the official name of the area, but everyone called it that, what with the dozens of businesses that had built facilities there.

The building in question was among the taller ones. We had to hop-skip our way to the top, using our magnet lines to attach, pull up, detach, then re-attach and pull up. By the time we got to the top my arm was a bit sore even with my harness taking most of the weight.

Still, we got there. Sam, Cherie, and Poy were there, looking over the edge across from us. Along with one other person.

Layla landed next to me, her line reeling back into her harness, and the two of us started walking up to the group. Sam turned and smirked.

“Well well. You’re early.”

“And you’re earlier,” I noted.

Sam chuckled. “Well, the client wanted me to meet someone,” his eyes panned over to the man standing with them.

I say man, but he looked around my age. He was around my height, maybe a bit taller. He was also wearing goddamn armor.

As he walked up, my eyes panned across it. I’d never seen real power armor outside of media. It was a deep blue in color, with black sections across it in triangle-style patterns. It was formed to his body, sleek rather than bulky.

The man inside the armor was Hispanic, with dark brooding eyes and a smirk over his sparse beard.

He looked between Layla and I for a moment. “Really? I thought you hired the best, Sam. Not random scrap like this… Good lord, that one has a stick. A stick.”

I shifted my back, feeling said stick move in its makeshift sheath, taking comfort in its weight.

Sam chuckled. “I hired the people who would work for the job our mutual client hired us for. No more, no less.”

“For the money you’re being paid, I’d have expected more,” he watched me cross my arms as I looked him in the eyes, his own green ones flashing just a bit. “Of course, I could test them a bit, see if they’re more than they appear.”

“No time,” Cherie stepped in between him and us. The leather-armored woman put a thumb in her belt. “I can vouch that they can do the job. Sam?”

“One’s a barmy musclehead and the other is a softie, but they’ll do,” Sam said cheerily.

The man scoffed. “Ringing endorsement… All right. Here on out, you’ll know me as Ramirez. I’m your muscle.”

“Indeed he is,” Sam looked out over the rooftop. “You’ll also be following his lead on this.”

“That wasn’t the plan,” Cherie said calmly.

“Plan changed. We might be running into mechs in there. He’s the answer.”

Mechs. I felt nervous at the thought. I could fight people with chrome in them. Cybernetics didn’t stop people from acting human, from responding to the basic physics and impulses of humanity. But robots were a lot better at taking punches, historically speaking. Still…

“We weren’t told another person was joining us,” I said slowly. “Except for the person on the inside.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “And what does that matter? The money I’ll pay you will stay the same, if you’re worried about your share.”

“I’m simply stating the facts. What else will change in our plans?”

“Nothing,” Sam sounded annoyed. “He’s leading because he can handle the big problems. Otherwise, everyone keeps to their same jobs. Understood?”

Understood.

“Everyone, link up,” Sam nodded towards Poy. The rodent-faced man swallowed and pulled out a tablet. He tapped at it. Moments later, a call came in on my smartwatch, with the others getting similar reactions. I answered it and listened as the others joined in on it.

“I won’t speak unless necessary,” Sam said. “That said, I’ll oversee everything. Ramirez.”

The Hispanic man smirked. Then he turned and leapt over the edge. There was a ‘snap-hiss’ sound, and then he had a pair of insectoid wings coming out of his back, attaching to his arms. He dived down into the buildings below.

Cherie raised a hand. With a growling sound that vibrated the air a bit, a bike approached us from the skies, landing beside her. A dark black hoverbike, a fairly quiet example of the type, with a symbol on the side in the shape of a pegasus in flight. She hopped onto it, nodding to Poy. The man nervously got on behind her, and the two took off after Ramirez.

“Woop!” Layla leapt off the roof, swinging out and soon outpacing Cherie’s bike.

I took my time to look over at Sam. His eyes shone a bit as he met my gaze.

“Got something to say?”

Hmm. A few things, really. But I had a job to do. I stood on the edge and fell backward. Even as he left my field of view, I could see Sam keeping his gaze on me. For a moment, just before I lost sight, he looked nervous.

Then I snapped out my line and went to join the others.