A torrent of liquid poured down from hundreds of different points above, flooding the street in a veritable toxic stew. Above ground rain was just a minor inconvenience, but all the garbage and toxins that built up at ground level of a megacity always ended up getting flushed into the undercity. Thankfully someone had apparently planned for flooding, so it only ran down the middle of the streets and we didn’t have to walk through ankle deep sewage everywhere we went.

Despite the deluge, the main thoroughfare was bustling. Unlike most of the streets, the buildings in this area were covered in an excess of neon lights, and advertising holograms lined the sidewalks; It was so well lit that many street vendors felt relatively safe setting up stalls and hocking their wares. Normally I’d take my time to browse the goods, and chat with the regulars, but I just didn’t have the time today. Instead I wove swiftly through the crowd, heading towards one of the biggest eyesores in the entire district, the shelter. Or what’s left of it.

About six months ago Indico Automation, one of the megacorps in the city, decided they needed good publicity, and that meant charity work. Building a shelter for the less fortunate? Best publicity there is. They spent a couple weeks putting up the foundations, brought in media to cover everything, and once they had what they needed the entire project stopped. No one was ever going to follow up on its progress, and the corp had what it needed.

Not that it was a complete loss. Once the corp left the gangs and scavengers descended on the site like vultures. Anything that could be taken away WAS taken away, even the wiring in the walls. They spent a couple weeks setting up the site, we spent less than three days stripping the place, leaving nothing but the concrete pillars and rubble behind.

Just another reminder that we couldn’t count on those above ground for anything. Fuck them.

As I was jogging up to the site I finally caught sight of my contact, Dante; he was actually hard to miss. Dante was a big guy, well over six feet tall and built like a tank, but that’s not what attracted attention. Both he, and the two boys standing with him, were dressed in gang colours, and since they were members of the Neon Scorpions, the gang colours were a garish mix of neon blue and orange. That being said, as far as gangs in the area go the Scorpions were relatively benign. They took taxes from the locals, but actually enforced some semblance of order, unlike some of the bottom feeders around. It was the reason I was willing to work with them occasionally.

“Teddy!” The big man waved at me energetically as I approached. “For a minute I thought you might have stood us up”

“I got caught up in the crowds around the market… and please stop calling me Teddy, you know my name is Evelyn”

“Yeah, I know” he smirked. “But you run around everywhere in that bloody hoodie with fucking bear ears. Everyone calls you that now days.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not everyday I find something made of Synthweave around here. I still can’t believe someone threw it out.” I paused. “Plus, it’s cute”

Dante chuckled, “As long as you admit it”

I glanced over at the two gangers. The Scorpions were usually pretty casual, loafing around and joking with one another. These two were alert, and in addition they were both armed with old, pre Incursion, SMGs. Antiques by today’s standard, but fairly heavy firepower by undercity standards. Definitely not something you pull out for a minor scavenging job.

My eyes flicked back to Dante “What’s going on? Your message said you wanted help with a little scavenge work. Your boys look like they’re going to war.”

Dante’s smile faded, he turned away and signalled for me to follow. “It is a minor job, probably.” He stuck his thumb at one of the gangers over his shoulder. “Marco there found something, and we need someone to check it out”

“So you needed me because of my Salvaging expertise?” I asked, confused.

He stopped at a pile of rubble, as far as I could tell it was no different than the rest of this mess. “No, it’s because you’re tiny.”

I couldn’t keep the scowl off my face. “Four foot five is not tiny, I’m just a little petite for my age”

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Whatever you say." He crouched down and gestured towards a hole I hadn’t noticed before, “There aren’t that many people that are small enough to fit in there, but mature enough not to try and screw us over. Not that 16 is super fucking mature, but it’s better than our other options.”

I crouched down, the hole was dark but after about a foot it looked like it intersected an intact duct which angled down. A tight squeeze even for me.

“I don’t get it, what am I looking at”

Dante stood up and lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag before answering. “Probably nothing.”

I narrowed my eyes, trying to pick out some detail that I missed “but…”

“Remember when Indico pulled out there was talk about them leaving a bunch of tools behind? Too lazy to take the fucking things when they left, but after all the gangs fought to get a hold of the juiciest shit, no one could find em?”

I finally put two and two together. “You think they were buried in the fighting? That’s nuts”

“Maybe. Probably. But a room full of construction equipment would be worth a tidy sum, around here it’s more than enough for the bottom feeders to kill for. That’s why the boys are here, insurance." He crushed the cigarette butt under his heel and crouched down again “If it’s down there you bring it up and we’ll sell it. You’ll get ten percent. If there’s nothing we’ll pay you for your time, deal?”

The corner of my lip curled up “What if I find it and try to salvage it myself?"

“You’re not that stupid. Which is why you’re here, and not someone else.”

I couldn’t help but let out a laugh, eyes never leaving the darkness before me. “It’s true. Damn my reliability.” There was a moment of silence. “Gimme fifteen percent and it’s a deal.”

I nearly smashed my head when Dante patted me on the back. Fucking gorilla. “Then it’s a deal.”

**********

I only took a few minutes to prepare. My tools were sufficient for salvaging, but not spelunking, so Dante had prepared a flashlight, a rope, and some radios to communicate with. My Augs were about eight gens old at this point, and I was lucky that I could even receive messages at the best of times, so it was important to have a backup.

Suddenly a message filled my vision.

Incursion Detected

Remain Calm, Proceed to the nearest shelter.

There was a moment of silence, before Dante burst out laughing. “Well missy, we going to do this or you gonna run from the big bad Antithesis.”

“And do what? It’s rare for the Antithesis to get down this far, and if they do, where could we go? I don’t think the shelter’s going to protect shit. No-one pays attention to the warnings anymore, there’s no point in starting now.” I tied the rope around one ankle, I didn’t want to risk it getting caught up if it was around my waist. “Let’s do this.”

The hole was narrow, luckily I wasn’t claustrophobic. The flashlight was feeble, barely managing to illuminate a couple feet ahead of me, yet it was enough to tell the duct was clear. I crawled ahead, straining my ears, listening for signs of the duct shifting, eyes slowly shifting back and forth, looking for signs of damage. The last thing I wanted was for this thing to collapse on me, plenty of scavengers lost their lives while rubble shifted, I wasn’t going to be one of them.

Inch by inch, foot by foot, I made my way forward until I finally came upon a vent set in the bottom of the duct, with a darkened room below.

“Dante, I found something. Looks like a room, I can’t make anything out from here. Need to pop off the vent, I’ll update you when I’m inside.”

There was a moment of silence. “I hear you. Be aware Dwayne heard some movement up here, we may have company, so move quickly.”

“Got it.” I let go of the radio, I couldn’t help but swear, “Shit.” If someone spotted us working out here it would only be a matter of time until the vultures arrived. There was no time for subtly, so instead of looking for the bolts or screw I pulled out my pry bar. The vent groaned, there was a series of pops, and then the casing came loose, falling to the floor below with a loud clang. Grabbing the edge of the vent I pulled myself forward, after slipping my legs out I hung there for a moment before dropping into the space below.

I flicked the light around the area, it was disappointing. Mostly empty shelves, a couple hand tools, ladders and various fittings. Not the payday we wanted. I was reaching for the radio, when my light illuminated the back of the room, and I stopped. The machine was about the same size as a dumpster, dull metal with a touch display mounted front and center. There was no way this should be here, no one with half a brain would leave it behind.

My hands were shaking. “Dante, are you there? Call your entire gang here right now. They left a fucking fabricator here. You hear me?”

I waited a few seconds. “Dante?”

A series of cracks echoed down the vents, I knew that sound. Burst fire. SMGs. That fight was happening right in front of my only exit.

There were a couple more bursts then silence.