Chapter Eleven - Nobodies

“Pre-2020 Russia was a military powerhouse with some economic issues and a growing sense of discontent in its lower classes.

Russia post 2030 is a military powerhouse with some economic issues and a growing sense of discontent in its lower classes.

Interestingly enough, despite being hit with the most incursions of any single country, Russia has changed few of its policies and methodology over the years. Its Samurai are generally worshipped and idolized as national heroes, and are given a fair amount of leniency and power in the nation as long as they don’t cross certain lines.

Its government is as corrupt and bribable as it has ever been, and a host of narcotics have joined alcohol in poisoning the downtrodden.

It can’t be said that the nation has prospered, but it has grown far more populous and despite some repeated disasters, has managed to cling onto its power through turbulent times. Its borders are the same, but the population has become hyper-concentrated around a few massive cities. Its military still uses machinery and equipment dating back to the last century, but they outnumber any other nation’s man-for-man.”

--A History After the Drop, Online Lecture by Professor Sterne

***

Myalis, being the awesome AI that she was, tracked the movement of our men in black through the entire building. They had a pair of hover vans parked up on the same level I had parked at. Just a couple of small unmarked vehicles that slid in and waited while the other hovercar owners rushed out of the building in a hurry.

We were able to spot them moving down a few floors, always using the stairs, always ducking out of people’s way without ever actually saying anything.

They had arrived within forty-five minutes of the incursion starting, and had reached Kattallina by the one hour mark.

Five minutes later they were back in their vans and taking off to parts unknown.

I looked at the images Myalis had picked out on the screens, one of each of the guys in black. There were two teams of four. Kattalina had run into one of them, the other had retreated right after. I could tell that some of them were women under the armour, but other than distinguishing superficial genders I couldn’t tell anything about them.

No skin showed, no hair, they wore darkened visors that hid their eyes, masks over their lower faces, and each camera they passed fizzed out and died soon after they appeared.

Both teams had one member that wasn’t as well armed as the others, a person with a large backpack with antenna sticking out of the top, along with obvious vents cut into the fabric. Judging by the glow behind their visors, and the stuttery way they moved, they were jacked into something. The team’s tech specialist, maybe?

“I can’t see any logos,” I said after eyeing the still a bit more.

None are present. I’m running their equipment through a list of manufactured goods. Most of it is standard issue for a few different paramilitary organizations, but none have their entire setup.

I shook my head. “Can you go over that again?”

Their boots, for example, are used by six paramilitary organizations in North America. Their guns are used by eight. Their helmets by four. None of them are all used by the same group. Their equipment borrows pieces from many companies, but not from one single organization.

Were they doing like the orphanage and raising some second hand mercenary store? “What about their vans?”

Rentals, from what I cane tell. From a local distributor, under a false name. All tags were removed, but one of the cameras by the entrance was able to see the serial printed on the corner of a windshield.

Images moved around until I could make out a zoomed-in image of a window reflecting a finger-width serial code. “Nice,” I said. “Does it point us in any useful direction?”

Unfortunately, no. I can’t trace the credit information used. The bank they used to pay is secure enough that it would require more than a mere internet connection for me to slip past.

I put ‘calling the bank to ask nice-like’ on my list of things to do. I leaned back into my seat, eyes idly following the motions of the group caught from odd angles as they made their way up while carrying a knocked-out girl and a dog with them.

“Why’d they save the dog?” I asked.

It was too much to imagine that they just didn’t like the idea of hurting a dog. Not that people going around armed to the teeth, with no doubt legally dubious intentions during a crisis couldn’t have a conscience. Something told me that I should probably assume that they weren’t saints under those masks.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Maybe they’re just not cat people.

“Was that a joke?” I waved it off. “No, nevermind, I don’t want to know. We... fuck, I don’t know what to do from here.”

Following them would be difficult. We don’t have the resources on hand to see from every camera across this part of the city.

I hummed as I thought. I didn’t have that kind of power. Myalis was pretty good at tracking things, obviously, but she had her limits.

My open palm smacked the desk. “Longbow!” I said.

The Vanguard?

“Remember? He had control of the cameras across the street from where we were yesterday. He said something about hacking into them.”

I could likely do the same. Though it would be a rather big investment of points to obtain the equipment to crack every security system in the area. Perhaps drones to physically connect to each closed network?

“Can you call him?” I asked.

One moment.

I spun on the chair, letting it squeak left and right while I sipped at my drink and let the sugar do horrible things to me.

My augs filled with a screen, one that filled up with an image of Longbow... wearing some sort of medieval archer cosplay? “The fuck are you wearing?” I asked.

The man grinned. “Hey! It’s my newest little sis! How are you doing Stray Cat?”

I snorted. “I’m fine, big bro Longbow,” I said. “But seriously, what’s with the getup, and is that a codpiece?”

“Might be,” he said with far too much confidence for a guy wearing tights. “I was in a game. What’s up?”

“Like... LARPing?” I asked.

“What? No, I’m in a game now. This is an avatar.” As if to prove the point he poked his own finger through his opposite hand. “Just setting up for a raid.”

“Right,” I said. Longbow was a nerd. Duly noted. “I was wondering if you could help me out. I’m tracking down this girl, she’s probably a Samurai. Really new. As in, like me, new. And she got kidnapped by some mercs.”

Longbow frowned. “That’s fucky. What have you got on them?”

“Myalis?”

Sending.

I saw Longbow looking off to the side, little screens opening in the air before him then winking out. “Nope, don’t recognize them. Which is probably what they’re going for.”

“Yeah. I need help tracking them down.”

“Using the city’s cameras?” he asked. “I could probably do that, but there might be a faster way. You ever hear of Dial-up?”

“You mean, like before fiber internet?” I asked. “The one with the noises?”

Longbow barked a laugh. “Your age is showing. Right, so Dial-Up and Lag are this pair of Samurai that basically live online, they’re jacked in at all times. No sleeping, nothing.”

“That sounds healthy,” I said.

“They invested a load of points into getting their brains jarred,” he said.

I imagined that for a second. “Why? And how would they fight off an incursion while in a jar?”

“They have tanks,” Longbow said. “The jars are in them. It’s pretty cool.”

“If... you say so,” I said.

“They’re pretty much the end-all be-all of information brokerage online. Go give them a visit. They’ll probably not charge you if it’s for helping another little sister. Probably won’t help you IRL, but what can you do? I’m sending your Myalis the links to get to their place in Meshspace. If you need, like, a drone strike later, give me a call. I’ve got a dragon to kill.”

He waved me off, and I found myself staring at a wall with a poster of some woman wearing very little slapped over a server rack. “O-kay,” I said.

I’ve received the coordinates to Dial-up and Lag.

“Can you call them?”

One moment.... No.

“Uh, no?”

From what I can tell at a glance, there aren’t any direct traces of them online. All links end with a packet entering your cyber warfare system that politely informs you to stop looking. This includes Google searches. It’s actually impressive.

“That doesn’t sound subtle.”

I don’t think it’s meant to be.

“So, we need to go see them in Meshspace. This is starting to feel like a shitty fetch quest,” I said.

You might have to get off your no-doubt comfortable seat and actually do some amount of work. How unfortunate.

I let out a sigh, chugged the last of my energy drink, then left it on the desk. Someone could cash it in for a chit they’d be able to exchange for another drink... if they collected a hundred. “Let’s go back to the hotel,” I said. “If we’re going to dive online, it’ll be at home. Maybe I can use Lucy as a body pillow while I dive.”

Your mind is a bizarre and terrifying place.