Music is blasting all around and it is some bullshit chronosynth-pop garbage Wynn has been unable to tune out. Although the sound is muffled a bit now that she is throwing up in the bathroom. She thinks this is the third bar she has visited after being kicked out of the previous two. Well she vaguely remembers being kicked out of one and thrown out of the second. Her mind is swimming for a few seconds as she looks at the time in the corner of her vision. It is 1832 hours and Aycock should be on his way home by this point. She stands up to leave when she keels back over throwing up even more.
She barely has any recollection of the past few hours. A few drinks led to more and more then many more. One moment was dancing on a table the next hanging out of a window, making out with some guy. Then throwing that guy out of the window. She faintly remembers an encounter with some woman that got a little too touchy. Her mood rises a small bit when she recalls that there was a guy selling dreamsalt that she bought she feels around her pockets for the pills. Everything else is a haze including how she got in the bathroom and who the person she just noticed passed out next to her was, he was some guy and looks like her type.
It takes a few tries but she manages to make it to the sink and mirror. Looking at herself for the first time today. Her brown eyes bore into her with sadness and anger. Her sandy brown hair frazzled a mess of knots and twists and now a small amount of vomit. She washes her hands then runs some water through her hair washing as much as she could before pulling it back and tying it into a knot to keep it out of the way.
She takes two pills from her pocket and downs them both eagerly anticipating the effects of the dreamsalt. She then puts back on her filter mask as she stumbles out of the bar. She sits on the ground outside as she orders a ride with her sensory augmentation. She later comes to her senses outside of the Vermilian Megablock apartment with no recollection of the driver or drive. She is a stumbling mess as the drugs she took before leaving the bar finally kick in. Sending her deeper into a trip and blocking any reason she had left.
She makes it to the apartment with little issue or at least she doesn’t remember anything going wrong. She bangs on the door barely able to stay on her feet. Wynn says something in a long unintelligible slur. People in the megablock minding their own business not even looking in her direction. They wouldn't because Aycock is an auti they don’t have any respect for him here and at the same time they want to stay far away from police business.
When the door opens the two of them lock eyes for a split second. He looks looks like he was in the middle of saying something when he realized who she was and reached behind himself for something out of sight. Wynn reacted at the same time and pulled her gun from its holster with blinding speed. Regardless of her mental state she still has a combat augmentation and as soon as she wants to pull her gun the reaction is as crisp and quick as when she is sober.
Bang!
The sound of the X1 rail-pistol's electromagnetic plates discharge accompanied by the high speed projectile isn’t as loud as one might think. On the lowest setting a well placed shot to the eye is enough to kill a man or in Aycock’s case stop all motor function in his arms and legs. All and all the man fell backwards the doorway and none of his neighbors are any the wiser that a gunshot just happened as Wynn shuffles into the room.
She pulls the heavy man away from the door so she can close it. The drunk woman jauntily hums the same chronosynth-pop song she hated from the bar, but for some ungodly reason has been stuck in her head. While she pulled the quickly dying man into the middle of the room she calls Caz. They need him to be alive just long enough for Caz to hack and unlock his the sensory augmentation which will prevent any alerts from going out and shutting down the device.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Caz, Caz Cazzzy.” She laughs as she falls back on her butt. “I have him here. Do your thing. Do your thing.” Wynn says with a slur.
“Are you blazed right now?” Caz says their voice is robotic. “Okay, I will be using your aug to connect sending you data packet now just accept it.”
“Stel. Got’em.” Wynn says as she accepts the file.
A connection between her and Caz is established. Caz then hijacks Aycock signal and connects into his network augmentation network. Normally doing this would activate security protocols but most of those from generation three sensory augmentation requires an active prompt, something Aycock can’t do at the moment.
“This was really reckless, Wynn. If he would have died before I connected an alert to every auti in the city would have gone out. Regardless, I got the files and a bunch of other things before I got kicked out.” Caz says he then pauses for a minute. “I assume you are going to finish up with him so I will be emptying all of his accounts. Once I get the credits and files authorized I will call you for a drop. See you later, amizé.”
Wynn wakes up on the floor of an unfamiliar apartment, her head throbbing as she struggles to focus. Next to her is a very dead Aycock which somewhat surprises her. She looks through her messages and sees that she had one from Caz telling her that they got the files and are currently authenticating them. She sits up finding little space in the apartment not taken up by junk, piles of actual garbage and old tech. She walks to the couch, throws everything on it to the ground and lays down. It is a little past 000 hours so she calls Yolanda.
“Wynn, there you are.” Yolanda says as cheery as always. “Are you ready?”
“Agh… uhuh, yeah.” Wynn says in pained response. “You wouldn’t happen to have any painkillers would you?”
“Oh no, did something happen?” Yolanda says. “Don’t worry I will be right there to make you feel all better.”
Wynn looks at the dead man on the ground then at the stuff she threw from the couch. The mound is composed of surprising amount of liquor, condoms and unwashed clothing. She reaches into the pile and pulls out the first liquor bottle she can reach. It is some brand she has never seen before, cheap stuff probably better used as window cleaner. She doesn’t care.
Aycock is dead and she feels terrible, not even a little better after getting her way. Tears start streaming down her face again as the emotions she has been trying to suppress resurface. She looks at the bottle and downs it before throwing the empty container across the room. She lets her mind swim as she again passes out just as she hears the door to the apartment open and a woman scream.
Wynn feels a sharp pain in her neck when she comes to in the back of a service truck. A woman pulls a syringe from her neck. The first thing Wynn notices is that the woman is wearing a cat mask that covers most of her face except her eyes; it even has cat ears poking from her hair. Her mind clears quickly and there isn’t any pain. After a few more minutes she is finally able to take in more details. She is in Yolanda’s cleaning van. The interior of which is full of cleaning supplies, body parts in cases along with a smattering of menter racks and various augmentations. The woman lovingly stroking Wynn’s hair and whose lap her head was in is Yolanda.
Yolanda is a droid, the slang term for a person that has more cybernetics augmentations than flesh. From what Wynn knows she is about 84 years old although you would never guess since she looks about the same age as Wynn. Yolanda’s body is her idealized amalgam of augmentations, synth-flesh and beauty. To any onlooker she would appear to be an alabaster enchantress of asian descent. Her eyes are the most unusual thing about her. Instead of pupils she has glowing pink X’s matching the pink highlights in her long blond hair.